#what I would not give to watch their relationship unfold for the first time again

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader

GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.

Warnings: little detail of smut

Wc:

Coriolanus Snow Masterlist

Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.

“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.

He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.

His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.

Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.

Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.

~

Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.

And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.

He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.

You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.

He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.

“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.

“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.

“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.

“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.

~

“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.

The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.

Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.

He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.

The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.

You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.

He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.

He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.

You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.

You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.

Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.

“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.

“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.

But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.

You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.

“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.

"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.

"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.

"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.

"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.

You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.

He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.

Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.

More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.

Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.

[the0doreslover]

Hey, I wanted to ask if you take requests!! If you do would you do Theodore x Reader angst to fluff

where like Theo gets jealous because of a rumor and paranoid thinking Reader will leave him for someone else (you choose who) but In reality it was all just made up from some girl that has a crush on Theo

And at the end he apologises multiple times to Reader because he didn’t let her explain

If not just ignore this! Have a great day.

shadowed trust

Theodore had always been a bit of a paranoid guy, but he had never been this jealous before. He sat in the Slytherin common room, his brow furrowed as he read the newsletter. The rumor had spread like wildfire, and now it had even made it to the papers.

Theodore couldn't believe what he was reading. The words were etching into his mind, The rumor suggested that you, his girl, his darling was growing close to someone else. Someone he knew all too well, someone he had considered a friend – Adrien pucey.

It was as if a wand had been plunged into his heart, and he couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. Theodore had never been one to easily trust others, but he had allowed you to breach the walls he had built around his heart. You were the one person who had made him believe in love again, especially after his mother, and now it felt like that love was slipping through his fingers.

That night Theodore couldn’t put himself to sleep his mind kept going back to the possibility that the whole time he was thinking of you with nothing less that love and adoration you were thinking of adrien, the supposed rival. He couldn't fathom the idea of losing you, of waking up one day to find that you were no longer a part of his life. The anxiety clawed at him, making it hard to breathe. He had to talk to you, had to know the truth, even if it meant facing his worst fears head-on.

That evening, he found you standing in the astronomy tower, a place were the two of you shared the most fond memories. You looked up and saw him approaching, a smile lighting up your face, but it quickly faded as you noticed the turmoil in his eyes.

"Teddy, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Is it true, what they're saying about you and adrien?" He couldn't bring himself to utter adriens name, the bitterness seeping into his words.

Your eyes widened in realization, and you quickly understood the source of his distress. "Theo, that rumor is false," you said earnestly. "I can’t believe you would even believe that, i don’t have feelings for anyone else. You're the one I love."

He stared at you, he wanted to believe you when he saw the sincerity in your eyes. But his insecurities quickly replaced that sight as he unfolded the paper that he pulled from his hoodie pocket and showed you the page that had a picture of two people in a heated situation.

“are you being serious? theodore you can’t even see their face!”

“when did you start thinking about him?”

“theodore what is wrong with you?”

“was it when we were on our first date?” he continued

“theo stop-“

“was it when i first said i love you?”

you stared at him in shock as he continued listing scenarios while walking closer to you.

“was it when i first made love-“

you didn’t want to listen anymore, your hand came and swiftly slapped across his face.

“don’t speak to me till you come to your senses” you scoffed with glossy eyes.

theodore seethed as he watched your figure walk away

The next day at breakfast was rough, you were sitting with luna while theodore sat with his friends

Draco crossed his arms, looking at Theodore with concern. " So you're letting baseless rumors ruin your relationship? You should trust her. i don’t know why i even have to tell you that"

Blaise nodded in agreement. "We all know how much you care about her. Don’t let something as stupid as rumours break a good relationship mate"

Pansy chimed in, "Theodore, i’ll give this to you bluntly, Y/n is my best friend and you really fucked up, i heard about everything last night she came back to our dorm in pieces and if you actually believe these rumours... Honestly you’ve made a right mess of this one"

Theodore sighed before noticing the familiar face of adrien on his way out the hall

It was him he should be angry with.

“You’re right” he started

“i know” pansy smiled

“i should be mad at adrien!”

before anyone could react theodore had gotten up and stormed out the hall where he had saw adrien.

“Oi Pucey”

“hm?”

Before adrien even registered who called him theodore’s fist had connected with his cheek.

Adrien was flung back and theodore didn’t even blink before jumping on top of the boy and beating him.

Ignoring the cheering crowd that had now formed the fight seemed to be getting worse as blaise and draco had now come to intervene.

you watched next to pansy in disgust as the boy you loved was beating a poor boy who hadn’t done anything.

adrien got a good few punches in near the end before finally they had been separated.

Theodore couldn’t hear anything as he felt himself getting more angrier by the minute. He stared back at the crowd and for a second his eyes met with yours before you turned away in disgust and dragged pansy along with you.

theo and adrien had both been taken to the infirmary with a strict warning from mcgonagall that if they do much as touched each other again there would be serious trouble.

they sat in silence for a few minutes before theo broke it.

“just tell me if they’re true”

Adrien looked taken aback by the sudden conversation. "I don't know what you're talking about, mate."

"Don't play dumb," Theodore snapped. "These rumors about Y/N and you. Tell me the truth."

Adrien hesitated,"I didn't start the rumors, but I heard people talking about it. I thought it was just gossip, nothing serious."

Theodore's anger shifted into frustration. "You should have put an end to it, not let it spread like wildfire."

Adrien looked remorseful. "I know. I'm sorry, when marissa asked me if there was anything going on i should have been more stern."

Theodore clenched his jaw, his anger dissipating as he realized what had happened "Marissa? Slytherin Marissa?”

“yeah”

“the one who has had a crush on me since second year!” he raised his voice a little bit

“oh shit! mate you need to apologise to y/n”

Just then, you entered the infirmary, carrying a tray with ice packs and ointments. You didn't say a word but walked over to then handing them an ice pack.

“madame pomfrey wanted me to give them to you” you said bluntly before making a move to walk away.

Theo wasn’t stupid he knew that madame pomfrey could of given it to them herself but he wasn’t about to question anything, he was just happy you had come to see him even if it was just to make sure they were still alive. He grabbed your hand quickly stopping you from leaving.

"Y/N, i’m sorry”

you didn’t say anything, instead you turned around and took the ice pack from him and placed it on his new forming bruise

“i should of trusted you”

You continued to apply the ice pack without meeting his gaze.

“i was being irrational and i know you would never cheat on me. I don’t deserve you, even now you’re here helping me”

you finally met his eyes

“i love you y/n”

“i love you too”

“i promise i won’t ever let a stupid rumour by stupid marissa get to me ever again”

“wait… marissa started this rumour? i’m going to bloody kill her” you spoke for the first time making theodore laugh

“it seems we’re both the jealous type no?” he grinned

a smile finally broke out on both your faces as he leaned into you, his lips meeting yours for a short sweet moment before adrien cleared his throat.

“piss off” theodore groaned before yanking the curtain around his bed and pulling you back into him.

[demonpiratehuntress]

laugh till you cry

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

Summary - this is based off the song Laugh Till You Cry by Faydee. One of his exes returns to wreak havoc on your relationship and win him back, but he's already too obsessed with you to even look her way.

Warnings - my first time writing for Ace but I absolutely adore him ❤❤

"Did anybody tell you you look better with your makeup on?

Did anybody tell you you don't matter to me anymore?

I was your joke, you were my heart

You played me well like a deck of cards

I see the tears run down your face

What, you think my mind is gonna change?

And I'm like"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no

You're gonna have to let this go

Didn't wanna say I told you so oh oh

But someone had to let you know

And if you think your tears are gonna change my mind

I'm not gonna waste your time

I'll remind you what I told you

You'd be laughing until you cry

I told ya

You'd be laughing 'til you cry, cry back to me

You'd be laughing 'til you cry, cry back to me"

**********

You didn't know much about Ace's past relationships. He preferred to keep you in the dark about that, thinking you were better off not knowing about his ex-girlfriends. You were inclined to agree, but that just meant you weren't prepared for what would take place at this new island you stopped by.

When Ace recognised it, he froze and his eyes widened.

"Ace?" You touched his arm gently, "Is something wrong?"

He snapped out of it, turning to you with a goofy smile, "Forget about exploring, let's go back to the room and cuddle."

"I don't usually have objections to that, but I kind of wanted to look around," you pouted.

And he was sold. There were a lot of things Ace could fight and win against, but you were not one of them. He was a sucker for you, and when you pouted like that he couldn't help but give in to whatever demand you were making.

"Fine, but I'm holding you responsible for whatever happens to me," he teased, sliding his arm around your waist. If there's one thing you loved the most about him, it was his constant need to be touching you in some way.

"Fine by me," you laughed and trudged off with him.

The downside to dating Ace was that he got sidetracked VERY easily, and you only noticed he had left your side when you were trying to show him a cute necklace inside one of the stores. You panicked, but you knew where to look. Ace would only dare let you for one thing.

Food.

You went around looking through all the little restaurants and bars that the island had to offer, finding him in the third one you visited. He was practically inhaling what looked like spaghetti, but you couldn't be sure since it was disappearing into his mouth so quickly.

"Ace!"

You had just been about to call out to him when someone beat you to it, and you turned to see a young woman making her way towards him. She was beautiful. It almost intimidated you, but then you remembered who your boyfriend was, and you were fine. That is, until she sat next to him and touched his arm, leaning in close.

"What do you want?" You heard him grumble with his mouth full, something you had told him many times not to do - because it was rude. You smiled and watched the scene unfold from afar, trusting your goofy boyfriend.

Before she could even speak, though, he was fast asleep. You giggled, being used to this, as the woman stared in shock with her jaw dropped. He jerked awake minutes later, resuming his frantic spaghetti consumption.

"As I was saying," she purred, running her hand along his bicep, "You look good."

"Can't say the same about you," was his instant reply, and you had to stifle your laugh so you wouldn't be spotted. "Look (Random Name), just let it it go. You don't matter to me at all anymore."

She frowned, apparently hurt, "But what we had was so good, you can't tell me-"

"If you think I'll take you back, you must be dreaming," the dark haired 2nd Division Commander cut her off, again with a mouthful. "You're not going to change my mind."

She suddenly burst into tears, begging and pleading with him and trying to convince him she was sorry. Ace ignored her for the most part, only saying one thing to her.

"You treated me like a joke, so don't come crying back to me. Besides, I already have an awesome girlfriend."

You smiled at his words, choosing that moment to walk over and stand behind him, rubbing his bare shoulders, "There you are."

He visibly lit up at your touch, like your fingers had jolted some energy into him. Within seconds, he had you on his lap with his arms tightly wound around your waist, nuzzling his face against your neck. Completely forgetting about his ex that sat there and stared in horror.

"I think I need to get you a leash," you said teasingly, running your fingers through his hair.

He shot you a devious grin, "That wouldn't be the worst thing."

Your eyes widened, immediately picking up on the dirty thoughts behind those words, "Ace!"

He laughed and kissed your cheek, staining it with sauce from his meal. But he was smiling at you so lovingly, absolutely dazed with love and adoration for you, that you found it incredibly difficult to get mad at him.

"I love you," he kissed your cheek again, making you giggle at the sensation of the sauce coupled with his lips.

"I love you too, but at least clean up first!"

He suddenly licked your cheek clean, "Done."

Your face was so red, your cheeks burning so much that you thought you might explode. Ace was not one to shy away from PDA, even the PG18+ kind. His ex was long gone, having seen for herself that he was only interested in one person, and that was you. Anyone could see how obsessed and in love Ace was with you, and it warmed your heart to know he would unashamedly express his love no matter where you were.

"Can we go back to the ship now?" He asked, twirling a bit of your hair around his index finger.

"Fine," you gave in, smiling. "I think I've explored enough."

With that, he happily lifted you up and despite your protests that you could walk, carried you all the way back to the ship just so he could lay you on his bed and spoon you.

You decided to do it differently this time, and repositioned you both so that you were spooning him. He was about to protest, but you cut him off.

"I want to sleep like this, babe. Besides, you look cute like this." You kissed the top of his head, and he melted into your embrace. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm, you're so comfortable," was his response.

"No, I mean...after today," you spoke carefully.

He shifted his weight so he could turn to look at you, "Of course." Then he feigned confusion, "Wait...what are you talking about?"

You shook your head with a smile, "I just want to make sure you're okay. Emotionally. You know I love you more than anything, and I want to make sure you feel nothing but happiness."

His heart swelled at your words. He was truly lucky to have someone who loved him so much. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, slowly, letting his kiss convey how much your words meant to him - how much YOU meant to him.

"Are you okay?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Me? I'm fine. I trust you, you know."

He offered you a lopsided grin, "Good cause you're the only one I want."

Then he smothered you with a hug, peppering your face with kisses before you could say anything else. You sighed contentedly, knowing there was no way you could ever feel jealous or insecure with this lovebug around.

[revehae]

OMG i completely forgot about incel!jisung repost it pleasepleasepleaseplspls 🙏🏻🙏🏻

tw // thoughts of noncon, incel ideology

jisung thought about your sounds when he was jerking off, fisting his own cock roughly into his clenched fist, only tightening when he imagined you with somebody else. sometimes, he didn’t even need to pry them out of his vivid vault of memories, able to hear his roommate strumming you to ecstasy through the thin wall that acted as one of many boundaries separating you from him.

upon many other distinct noises, but he’d rather ignore those. they made his jaw clench and his rage heighten, which to be fair, so did the sound of you taking pleasure in getting dicked down by another man, but at least you sounded sweet enough for him to ignore that part. temporarily.

he thought about those high-pitched, squeaky noises that his roommate never failed to pluck out of you when he was doing mundane things like shopping and folding laundry, boring things like sitting in class when he should’ve been jotting down notes for his professor’s lecture.

but more importantly, more ceaselessly than the way you tantalize him every waking minute, jisung thought of turning your shrill, delicate moans into mangled, blood-curdling screams. especially when there was a crude, twisted porno draped over his computer screen. she deserves it, he thought crassly, for being so arrogant.

it was naturally so much less complicated for you, getting sex whenever you wanted. sometimes haechan boasted about it, how your relationship was so convenient because both of you dropped everything whenever the other called, and jisung resented his roommate too. haechan didn’t know what it was like to be lonely and he always had to rub it in jisung’s face.

but at the end of the day, that was why jisung didn’t feel bad picturing himself holding you down while you thrashed along his mattress. cock bulky and tall against his stomach, he mused about bullying himself inside velvety, taut walls, gripping him so fiercely there was no way he would be able to pull out.

it wouldn’t be his fault anyways. whenever jisung saw you, you were never not dressed like the whore he saw you for. so painfully easy. a simple tug and your breasts would be face-to-face with him. one wrong move and your miniskirt would ride upwards. if you didn’t want it, you would at least make it harder. what would it take for jisung to slip your panties to the side and force his cock between your folds?

he thought explicitly about how it would happen, how every moment would unfold the second he got his big hands on you. he wondered if he would want to go quickly, sheathing himself impatiently because he’d already waited long enough and give you no time to adjust, or if he’d take it slow, prolong his ecstasy and your agony.

too many different variants of heat wafted over jisung, an insatiable, white-hot anger, accompanied by the longing that burned through him and quickened his pulse, and he started to stroke his cock again, another video playing in front of him.

he pictured you choking on your own sobs identically to the girl in the video, so laboriously that you struggled to breathe. if he went deep enough, rough enough, would you bleed?

paramountly, he wanted to know what he’d have to do to tear the most devastating screams from the very back of your throat. he would rip your clothes off first. force you onto your stomach and hold you down by your throat, maybe your hair. he would watch you squirm uncomfortably, but to no avail, because he was stronger than you.

he had that feeling that you were a little fighter, just because of your attitude, a feeling that you would reach back and attempt to attack him when you sensed him lining himself up at your entrance, but he knew an untamed scream would come from your throat when he stuffed his cock inside your unprepared pussy.

he wouldn’t want to muffle it, he’d prefer to let you scream and cry out for help, but he would if he had to. slam your head against the bed and whisper menacing little threats into your ear. in that case, he started to think about somewhere secluded that he could take you, just so that nobody would be privy to your encounter, for lack of a better word.

maybe one day, he would turn these thoughts vicious, degenerate into a reality, but until then, while you were at your own apartment probably choking on his absent roommate’s dick, his hips rutted desperately into his fists as he imagined your weak, gasping figure, begging him for mercy.

[maiko-san]

The Chain + TP! Reader (3/?)

< Part 2

Plot : You are Twilight's childhood best friend, who like Twilight can turn into an animal, that is a crow. You just happen to follow Twilight into the portal in your crow form and meet the Chain.

( Fem Reader )

Note : (Y/n) and Twilight are a couple in this fic. Also, apologise that I couldn't include all Links in the conversation but they're there listening.

-----------

"(Y/n)?!" you stand there awkwardly, Link or Twilight stated in shock. "Did you follow me all the way here?!" he asks, you give him a nod as you avert your gaze 'Sorry....' you said. "Oh Hylia...." Twilight sighs as he rubs his temple. The other Links witness the scene unfold as they watch their brother talk to a crow.

"Is it yours, Rancher?" questioned Legend. Twilight takes a deep breath, "Yeah, she's mine" he said as he walks over to you and holds out his hand for you to perch on. You step up his hand as he caresses your head and giving a little scratch on your cheek.

You let out a small coo as you lean into his touch. "You and...." Sky trail as Twilight turns to him, "(Y/n), that's her name" he said. "(Y/n), that's a pretty name. Aw, looking at this reminds me of Crimson and I" Sky said as he smiles at the thought of his own bird companion.

"She has been with me for the longest time" Twilight said, his lips curls up into a smile. "She's my friend" he said, 'and my lover...' he thought lovingly.

"So, it seems we got a new addition in the team huh" chirps Wind, Four and Hyrule smiles. "Well, a friend of Twilight is a friend of ours" Hyrule said. "I wonder how Wolfie will react to this" grin Wild. "I heard that Wolves and Crows have symbiotic relationships! I think they will get along well!" Four chimed.

'Too well...' you and Twilight thought at the same time. "Can't wait for Wolfie to come back" Wind said. A wind blows to your face which causes you to squawk in surprise. You turn your head around to see Epona close to you, 'Epona, you scared me!' you said. Epona snorts and neighs, licking you gently to apologise.

Guess she's happy to see you here. You climb on to Epona's head as you crows, 'It's okay, just don't do that again' you said. "You're happy too huh, girl" Twilight said as he rubs Epona's neck.

.

.

Later that night, Twilight got the first shift. You're still perched on his shoulder as Twilight sits at the edge of the camp so he can talk to you.

"So is this why you didn't want me to come along. They're good people, why didn't you introduce them sooner?" you questioned him, Twilight sigh. "It's not like that..." he said. "It's just, our mission is....much more dangerous and I... don't want you to get hurt...." he said. Twilight was disappointed when you followed him to the portal, but he can't really blame you for it since he wasn't truthful. It would be different if he was honest with you and you would have stayed back in Ordon. He can't really do anything now and has to keep you close to him.

Once the portal to his world opens up, he will send you back home where you are safe from danger, away from evil. Away from Shadow....

"I have a question, Link" you speak up gaining his attention, "What is it, pumpkin?". "Did they really call you Wolfie when you were a wolf?" you asked with a smug look on your face. Twilight raises an eyebrow before letting out a chuckle, "Haha, ah yes they did. They didn't even come up with a better name for me. Dumb isn't?" he said.

"I like Wolfie. It sounds cute" you chirped. Twilight smiles as he pecks at your beak, "Hmm, you're cuter than me, love" he said which causes you to blush. You couldn't help but cover your face with your wing, god why he so romantic?

"Anyways, (N/n). Did you told dad before leaving?" Link questioned, which makes you gasp. "Oh, no! I forgot!" you said, you forgot to tell your parents about leaving to join Link. You didn't even leave a note! They're going to be worried. "Calm down, love. I'm sure your dad understands. I'm sure he knows where you are right now" Twilight said. "Besides, he trusts me to take care of you. He's my teacher after all" he continues.

Twilight notices that his shift is almost over and Four will take over the next shift. He stands up and stretches his limbs, "Time to go to bed" he said. He walks over to the campfire and Four is already awake, ready to take the next shift. "See anything?" Four questioned the rancher, Twilight shakes his head "There's nothing unusual as for now" he said, Four nods as he stands up "Well, I'm gonna stretch my limbs for a bit" he said. "Good night, Twi, (Y/n)" he waves as he takes a few steps away from the camp. He lets you down on the log as he takes off some of his equipment and leaves him only in his tunic.

He doesn't really want to risk taking it all since everyone is out in the wilderness and enemies could attack at any moment, so it's better to leave some on. Twilight lies down on his bed roll as you snuggle yourself on his chest, his hand gently set on your back.

"Goodnight...." he whispers as you reply back, "Hm....goodnight...." you mumbled before dozing off.

.

Click!

Click!

.

You hear a clicking sound, which wakes you up. You open your eyes groggily and let's put a yawn, your feathers puff up doing so as you cuddle deeper in the warmth of Twilight's tunic. It was so warm that it made you doze off again....

Click!

Click!

There it is again.

You snap your eyes open to see Wild holding a slate in his hands, he's smiling and giggling to himself. 'What's up with him?' you thought

Click!

The slate lets out a clicking sound, what is that thing?

"Good morning, (Y/n)" Wild said with a smile, the sun is rising and the first one to wake up was Wild, Legend and Time. You stretch your wings and look down on Twilight, he is still sleeping. He usually wakes up before the sun is up. You were slightly surprised that he hasn't woken up yet, "Rancher went back to sleep since he doesn't want to wake you up" Wild said.

You notice that Wild is cooking breakfast, what is he making? You hop onto the log to see what he's cooking. Seems like scrambled eggs and toast?

"Curious are we? I'm making scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, want a taste?" he said holding out a small portion for you to taste. "It tastes a little bland since I'm running out of herbs" he said.

You smile, 'Heh, herbs you say? Well, I got you covered!' you thought. You spread your wings and fly away, carrying your bag with you. It makes Wild sadden a little bit when you fly away. This causes Legend snorts, "Oh wow, seems the crow hates it" he said as Wild sends a glare at the veteran.

Finding herbs wasn't that hard for you, you managed to pick a beak full of fresh herbs like basil, rosemary, thyme, chives— you name it. You also found a couple of rupees along the way and stuff them in your bag.

When you return to the camp, everyone is already awake and ready to have their breakfast. You land on the log and crows at Wild, the man turns around to see you're back with something in your beak.

"Are those herbs? Did you pick them for me?" he pointed out. You nod, puffing out your chest in pride, Wild smiles "Thank you, (Y/n)" he said, taking the herbs from you. He looks through them and Hyrule leans in, "Oh hey, there's medicinal herbs here too" he said, picking up a herb.

"Did you teach her, Twilight?" Questioned Hyrule to Twilight, the blonde blinks "Ah, not really. She learned it by herself—" he said. "By herself? That's amazing!" Hyrule smiles, he was impressed that a crow learned about herbs all by itself when you were actually taught by your dad, Rusl. "Yeah, it's amazing that a crow learns about herbs. Is it possible for me to teach it to Crimson?" Sky hummed.

Receiving praises makes you feel pleased and happy, slightly bashful. Maybe you should do this more often?

"I wonder what else she can do?" Legend smirks, putting a hand on his hips. "Does she bring back shiny stuff? Like gold?" he questioned. 'Gold?! Where?!' you squawked, looking left and right. This causes Twilight to look away and scratch his cheek, "I think it's better not to mention gold around her" he chuckles nervously.

[ End of Part ]

[frvnkcastles]

THE BEAST INSIDE OF ME ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank doesn’t think he deserves you.

Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, reader is kidnapped, reader has unspecified trauma, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: This is 1000% inspired by Type O Negative’s ”Love You to Death” which is one of my fave songs and in my opinion very Frank-coded (maybe that’s why I love it so much). Hope you enjoy!

Frank didn’t deserve you. That was what he firmly believed — that you were too good and he was too fucked up to be worthy of you, that everything he touched fell apart and he didn’t want that to happen to you. He wanted nothing but the best for you, and he just couldn’t believe that he could be that.

But when you were tiptoeing the line between friendship and dating, he allowed himself to be selfish. He tried to let go of his fears and give himself a chance to be happy. You were the first person after Maria he thought could actually make that come true, the first person after her that gave him hope and a glimpse of what it was like to care for someone again. Getting to know you was exhilarating, the thrill of falling in love caught him by surprise but for the time being, he didn’t resist the feeling.

Then the fateful night of you opening up to him came, and he realized that he’d just end up hurting you.

”So, yeah, I don’t really have a great track record with loved ones. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I really like you, Frank”, you shared with him, having explained your family history and past relationships that had all ended up poorly — you seemed to be a magnet for bad people, but Frank had made you believe there was someone for you, too. He made you feel special, in a way that no one ever had before, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gazed at him from your end of the couch.

He shifted uncomfortably on the cushions, casting an ashamed look down at his calloused hands. He had let himself get close to you, and the regret was starting to seep in. Not because he saw you any differently now, no, you were still beautiful and strong to him, and he adored that. But he feared he’d only hurt you further, that he’d break what you had worked so hard to put back together, and he refused to watch it all unfold.

So, he began to pull away. Slowly, at first, in a way that you didn’t really even notice. But eventually it became too obvious, from the way he dodged your calls to his blatant absence in your life. He no longer knocked on your door in the middle of the night nor did he stumble through your window, and when you tried to meet him halfway, you couldn’t find him at any of your usual spots. You sent him countless texts, and he… he just stopped responding.

You felt so stupid. You cried for days but it didn’t soften the ache in your heart in the slightest. You had let your guard down and fallen for the one man you had deemed worth your trust, and you had opened up to him, only for him to leave you in the dust. You connected the dots — clearly, what you had told him about your traumatic past had been too much for him and your baggage too heavy to carry. It was a fault in you.

Maybe it would have made you feel better to know that he was suffering, too. He hadn’t expected severing ties with you to be so difficult, but every night, his finger hovered over the call button, and every morning he woke up to the thought of you. He had fallen for you hard, but he was convinced that contacting you would only be selfish. He brought death and destruction wherever he went, and he didn’t want the violence surrounding him to touch you.

Turns out, even if he distanced himself from you, the chaos in his life could still reach you. That was confirmed for him when he got a message from you and he, against his better judgment, opened it, only to see a video of you tied up to a chair and gagged, tears running down your face. With the message came an address — an obvious trap, but Frank didn’t hesitate to pack his guns and hop behind the wheel.

Your captor snatched the rag in your mouth and loomed over you menacingly, a sick grin twisting his lips. ”You’re making our job easy for us. Castle made a mistake getting attached to a girl”, he taunted, and bitterly, you barked a laugh at him.

”He’s not coming, asshole. He doesn’t care about me”, you spat at him, your heart breaking all over again as you processed your situation. One second you’re getting into your car, the next you’re in the back of a van. And these men were counting on Frank to come and rescue you. Well, you weren’t holding your breath.

To Frank, it was a no-brainer. This whole time, his one objective had been to keep you safe — of course, he was coming to get you. In no time, he was kicking down the door, guns blazing, and your captors left you alone to duel with the man. They tried their best, but Frank was unstoppable when it came to you.

All you could do was watch in shock and amazement as he slaughtered them all, unfazed by the bloodshed but certainly moved by the fact that he was actually there. After weeks of radio silence, you hadn’t expected to see him ever again, but there he was: homicidal and glorious, stained with his enemies’ blood as he gunned all of them down in his path to you.

Tears blurred your vision when he finally reached you, kneeling in front of you with his bruised hands tenderly cupping your face. ”You okay, sweetheart?” he rasped, and with an unbeatable lump in your throat, you managed a nod. With his knife, he cut you free and your tired body keeled forward into his arms, and he quickly wrapped them around you to support you.

He helped you up to your feet and together, you walked back to his truck, past all the dead bodies. You didn’t feel bad for them, but in some weird way, you were anxious about being in Frank’s presence again. You had begun to accept that he didn’t find you worthwhile, yet he had come to your rescue, like it was the most obvious thing. Maybe he was just trying to alleviate his own guilt, not wanting your death on his conscience, but regardless of the reason, he was there.

He was there and he was real. And you wanted nothing more than to cling onto his broad chest and never let him go, to beg him to stay, to cry out all your frustration and slap him and kiss him all at the same time. He had never been more beautiful yet more infuriating, and it drove you crazy.

All you did, though, was climb in his truck and sit in silence as he drove you home. You could feel him stealing glances at you, but you didn’t meet his eye, not sure how you’d react if you gave yourself the chance to get lost in the charming darkness of them. You didn’t want to forgive him but at the same time you felt like you should have been the one to apologize and you didn’t really know what to do about that sickening feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Once home, he helped you inside your apartment and awkwardly watched you wrangle your shoes off and your coat off of your weary shoulders. ”Sure you’re aight?” he asked quietly, and still avoiding his gaze, you nodded to confirm.

”They didn’t really do anything. Just snatched me and tied me up”, you explained while rubbing your irritated wrists. You could handle the burn of a rope — what was harder to stomach was the tension between you and Frank.

He sensed it, too, and supposing he didn’t really have a place in your home anymore, he took a step towards the door. ”So, you’re just gonna leave me again?” you asked, not pulling any punches as you called him out. He turned back to face you, and you finally had the courage to look up at him. ”You know what, I’m not okay! You broke my heart, you asshole”, you proclaimed, throwing your arms around in exasperation.

”I had to”, was all he gave you in return, and it made you laugh in disbelief.

”You had to? Is that how terrible it would have been to just be with me? I opened up to you and the next thing I know, you’re avoiding my calls. I thought I could trust you. I thought you could understand what I’ve been through”, you cried out, burying your face in your hands as the tears broke free. You had to fight back a sob, and not wanting to seem weaker than you already were, you turned your back to Frank.

Your words sank in, and regret immediately flooded his systems. He hadn’t thought of it like that, too caught up in his own anxieties to consider what it would look like to you. ”No, hey, listen to me”, he started, gently grabbing your shoulder to turn you back to him. ”I wasn’t… It wasn’t me rejecting you ’cause of what you told me. Everything you shared was just proof of how strong and amazin’ you are”, he insisted, crouching down to be eye level with you, his hands soft on your shoulders.

”Then why did you leave me?” you sobbed, the pain of his abandonment still aching within you, sore to the touch.

Frowning, Frank came to the painful realization that his attempt to keep you safe had come with a greater cost than he had anticipated. Of course, he hadn’t expected you to be okay with him withdrawing from you, but he hadn’t thought you’d gotten as attached as he had. He was completely in love with you, but the idea of you feeling the same way? Completely foreign to him, right up until now as you cried in front of him, evidently stabbed in the heart by his actions.

”I did it ’cause I’m no good for you, sweetheart. I’m… I’m too damaged, too broken and I can’t be fixed. You deserve someone who won’t drag you down with him. I just wanted to give you that chance”, he attempted to reason with you, his own heart shattering at the sound of your sobs.

”I’m damaged, too, Frank. I thought you’d see we could be equals. I felt—I feel connected to you. I wanted to face all those ugly demons together with you”, you managed to get out, trying to calm your breathing as you frantically wiped your eyes with shaky hands. ”I love you, Frank. And I accept you just the way you are”, you sighed, not able to hold it back any longer. In some sick and twisted way, all the time away from Frank had only cemented in the fact that he had stolen your heart.

Acting on impulse, Frank pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You wrapped your own arms around his strong frame, craving the contact, and buried your face into his shoulder. He placed a kiss on your temple, and it made you melt.

”I never shoulda left you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I—I do want you. So badly, you have no fuckin’ idea”, he confessed, his admission making your heart soar.

Gently, you pulled back so you could lock eyes with him. ”I’m right here, Frank. All you have to do is stay with me”, you whispered, and slowly, he nodded.

He took a careful hold of your jaw and leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a deep kiss, one that took your breath away. You closed your eyes and leaned into it, letting him guide you through it, and he did so with admiration and genuine care. He let go only to kiss you again, passionate and slow as he moved, desperate to feel you and taste you.

”Fuckin’ perfect”, he breathed out when he finally broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. ”Been wantin’ to do that a long time, pretty girl.”

Blushing, you leaned in for one more brief kiss. ”Me too. So… are you gonna stay the night?” you asked cautiously, the anxiety in your chest slowly releasing its hold, even more so when he nodded.

”I’m gonna stay as long as you want me to.”

[woniefull]

we can't be friends

hi guys!! this is my very first piece of writing! constructive criticism is always welcomed. please don't mind any grammatical/spelling errors. i wrote this at 2 in the morning and just wanted to do something fun. i still have a lot of room for improvement but i hope you guys enjoy!

warning: little angsty

song: we can't be friends (wait for your love) - ariana grande

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

he was the sweetest boy to you when you had first met. his puppy eyes, gorgeous smile, and brown fluffy hair were what drew you in. his flirty words towards you, and only you, had you captivated in a heartbeat. 

that’s why you couldn’t believe what was unfolding in front of you right now.

“oh god please don’t start.” jake groaned as you stared at him with angry eyes. or was it hurt? he couldn’t tell. 

“i’m not starting anything! if anything you are! why are you still talking to your ex after the countless times she’s crossed the boundaries in our relationship? i’ve told you how i feel about her!" your voice croaked and you felt helpless.

you had always tried your best to not be that jealous girlfriend everyone hates. but how could you? jake was attractive and every girl tried to get at him. it didn’t help that he was oblivious to the advances the women around him would give. that’s why you would get angry, but never at him. 

“how many times do i have to tell you that she came up to me? i was just being polite by having a conversation with her”.

jake was sitting on the couch now. his hands covering his face, unaware of the tears forming in your eyes.

it always came down to this. you voicing your problem with jake entertaining other girls and him trying to reassure you.

trying.

you both were growing tired of the constant arguing. 

“jake she was pushing herself all up on you and you just stood there! can you imagine how that made me feel? watching my boyfriend have another girl's hands all over him as if she were the girlfriend?” you were hurt. it hurt. all of this hurt. you knew this wasn’t your boyfriend’s fault. he had always been a gentleman, one of the many qualities you loved about him. but his next words made you second-guess yourself.

“that’s just her character, doll. she’s always been like that from the moment i met her. this jealousy thing of yours really needs to stop, it’s not cute anymore”. jake almost immediately regretted his words as he saw your reaction. he knew he was wrong.

“you think i do this to be cute? am i joke to you?” you cried out.

you don’t remember when everything went wrong. you don’t remember the last time you felt secure in your relationship. maybe you weren’t ready for all of this. 

“no, love i’m sorry i didn’t mean that” jake said as he quickly got up and made his way towards you.

“i’m so sorry, i just had a difficult day that’s all”. he slipped his arm around your waist and used the other to wipe your tears away.

“jake”

he looked at your eyes.

no

“whatever you’re about to say please don’t” jake pleaded.

“jake i just think we aren’t ready for this. for us”. you started to sob again. 

“i think we need to let each other go. we need to grow and learn to understand ourselves before we can understand each other".

“please” jake said as he dipped his head into your neck.

you let him stay there for a while before you detached yourself from him. it was hard to because jake wouldn’t let go. he knew it would be a while before he held you again. 

“i’m sorry jake, i really am” you said with a small smile, trying your best not to completely break down again. 

“no i’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

“we both had fault in this jake, don’t blame yourself.”

you both stood there for a moment, observing each other. it was as if you guys were taking in your last moments together. 

“i’m leaving now jake”. you wasted no time in collecting your things in order to head to the front door. 

“thank you for everything, really. i know things didn’t end how we wanted them to but some of my best memories were with you. thank you jake”. 

jake just stood there, still in disbelief at how quickly things had unraveled. 

right as you were about to walk out he calls to you.

“can we still be friends?” a little hope is visible in his eyes. he hopes that you say yes so that he’s able to see you again.

“we can’t be friends”. and just like that you were gone. the only evidence of you ever being there was jake’s broken heart.

i’ll wait for your love jake thinks as he slowly walks over to the sofa and slumps down.

[leviscolwill]

show me how

pairing: mason mount x f1 driver!reader

summary: mason brings you as his plus one to the ballon d'or ceremony and although you're both used to cameras, you still need each other to ease your minds. [wc: 1.4k]

req: i love ur jude x driversss but can we have mason and driver😔😔

contents: angst (reader has a panic attack), but other than that fluff, fluff, fluff ! established relationship, mason is a cutie patootie

note: okay this was supposed to be much shorter but i got carried away rewriting it at 1am 💀 but anyways !! first time writing for my boy (and definitely not the last) !! i hope you'll like it 🫶

now playing: show me how by men i trust (oncle jazz)

the beautiful dress you had on was probably not suited to brave paris' october wind. but your boyfriend and you had planned all of this for months already. you just flew out from the mexican gp as soon as you could and started learning the speech you wrote beforehand the moment you landed in paris.

you knew your presence at the ballon d'or ceremony was important to mason, he had a difficult time adjusting to his new club and you needed to be here for him.

you felt that was the least you could do, mason had been there for you during the whole season, facetiming you even when you were at the opposite end of the world and he needed to sleep.

your car wasn't as fast as your team had planned and all hope of a championship was close to none, the media started questioning your position within the team and whether or not you deserved a seat. safe to say, you went through a rough patch.

you were aware that coming here would give you a headache with all the questions coming your way on the red carpet. 'is your boyfriend a distraction to your career ?', 'do you think you're in f1 solely for diversity reasons ?', 'will we be able to see you on the grid next season ?' no. no. maybe.

actually, you weren't here only for mason. your pr team got you to announce the women's ballon d'or. you were extremely grateful for the opportunity, being a woman in a male-dominated sport like formula one forced you to advocate for equity and recognition of women in sports. and this was a great way to spread your message, a message you knew these players would relate to, they were also victims of sexism and misogyny in their sport after all.

however, you were still nervous, you hated public speaking and your hands were shaking at the sole thought of messing up your speech. for some reason, it was easier for you to talk in front of big cameras during races, even after a dnf, than at such an important event for a whole sport.

when you both finally got inside and were taken to your seats, you didn't even notice your leg starting to bounce on its own.

"are you okay ?" mason took your hands in his as soon as he noticed your stress.

"i'm fine, just a bit nervous" you lied. you were very nervous. you didn't know why, you've experienced worse in terms of stressful situations. hell, your job was a big stressful situation on its own.

you silently rehearsed your speech, while your mind helped you visualise everything that could possibly go wrong, exactly what you needed. falling down on stage, dropping the trophy, breaking it, stuttering during your whole speech, blanking out, passing out... all of this in front of a big audience with threatening eyes, an even bigger audience if you counted people in front of their devices, watching the ceremony.

all of these thoughts became too much for you to handle and you felt the urge to get out. obviously, you couldn't actually get out of here, you wouldn't forgive yourself for doing this to mason.

so you settled on going to the bathroom to clear your head a bit. the 'clear your head' part didn't work well though, as you felt tears well up in your eyes. the thought of your makeup running down your cheeks was enough to make you spiral again. thankfully, no one could see the scene unfold since you were confined in one of the stalls, sitting on a floor that was probably not clean enough for you to do so. you tried focusing on the conversation two girls were having just outside, praising each other's seasons.

you heard the door close, or open, you weren't able to tell.

"y/n ? are you here ?" you didn't expect to hear mason's voice.

"umm, this is the women's bathroom..." one of the two girls said to your boyfriend.

"i know... i'm looking for my girlfriend she's-"

"mase, i'm here." you slightly opened the stall's door for him to get in.

the bathroom stall was clearly too small for the both of you, so you were practically glued to mason.

"y/n... you should have told me how you felt." mason had a serious look on his face, which was quite unusual for him.

"i'm sorry, i didn't want you to worry. it's just... a lot for me, i don't want to mess it up."

mason's hands found your cheeks and made you look up to him.

"you don't need to put pressure on yourself like that y/n. i know you'll do great, you just need to tell this brain of yours to stop working overtime." his arms engulfed you in a big hug.

"no, don't hug me... i'm all snotty." you whined, trying to push him away, in vain.

"i love you even when you're snotty." he said, peppering kisses across your face.

"so cheesy."

"you love it though." he said chuckling. he was right, you loved it when mason was overly cheesy, especially when he did so to comfort you after a bad race or in moments when you simply needed him.

mason cleaned up your makeup after comforting you, and you went back to your seats hand in hand, a smile on both your faces from the intimate moment you both shared.

when you were taken backstage just before the announcement, you felt anxiety creep up again. this time mase wasn't by your side, but his words were. this was all in your head, you just needed to deliver your speech. that's it, nothing would go wrong.

you stepped on the stage with mason's words still ringing in your head when you felt hundreds of eyes on you.

the voice in the back of your head was wrong. everything went perfectly, you even caught mason's sparkly eyes when you were done announcing the women's ballon d'or winner.

getting back to your assigned seat, mason immediately congratulated you, kissing your cheek.

"you did amazing. god, you were amazing."

you were grateful for the room's shitty lightning, because mason didn't need to notice the way your cheeks started to flush at his words.

"thank you mase, i don't think i could have done it without you."

"stop saying nonsense. you did everything yourself." it seemed mason wasn't aware of how much his words, as simple as they might have been, along with his presence, were key factors in you actually pulling up to the stage. but debating with your boyfriend on such subjects was useless, so you let him believe what he wanted to.

the two of you spent the rest of the night chatting with each other in half-whispers, sometimes getting little 'shhhhh's from the audience. even though your anxiety was long forgotten, you still felt relieved when the ceremony ended. but getting home from the packed location was another issue you didn't plan.

you didn't know if you were thankful your hotel room wasn't that far from where the ceremony was held, or if you hated it. your heels were absolutely killing you and you didn't feel like walking in them, even for 200m.

"you look like a baby giraffe right now."

your boyfriend always had the right words to cheer you up, didn't he ?

"shut up. these shoes will actually be the death of me." you looked up at him with glassy eyes, hoping he'd get the message.

"i'm not about to give you my shoes y/n." his words made you sulk immediately.

"i could give you a piggyback ride to the hotel though..." you could hear mason's smirk in his tone, you knew he wouldn't do that for free.

"what do you want ?"

"a kiss." he simply said pointing at his lips.

you quickly pecked his lips, expecting your piggyback ride.

"what was that ?"

"a kiss ?" you answered, stating the obvious.

"surely not. put your heart in it will you ?" his comment made you roll your eyes but you complied anyway. you felt mason's hand sneak to the back of your neck deepening the kiss. after a few seconds, you realised you were kissing in the middle of paris' streets. you pulled away and hit his chest in false annoyance. which quickly dissipated once you were on his back, your aching feet silently thanking you.

"you're a menace." you said, although you were smiling at his antics.

"i'm your menace."

[leelei1980]

Loving Mr. Munson

Part two-

Dilf!Eddie x reader

Your now dating your Ex-boyfriend’s Father, Eddie Munson. Things are going great, and your finding out that Eddie has an insatiable appetite for you…. And pancakes

🛑 smut warning- Mature content- 18+ Minors DNI🛑

Sticky Sweet

It has been a week since that fateful day, the day that you walked through Eddie Munson’s door, heartbroken, sad- sad because you thought that after you caught his cheating Son Robbie,balls deep in the waitress from the diner down the road from your apartment, you wouldn’t ever see Eddie again. You had dated his son for years, developed a friendly relationship with the goofy, sweet, incredibly attractive Metalhead. He made you laugh, made you feel welcome, made you feel special. That day you showed up with his son’s belongings he made you cry with his sweet words, he comforted you, and then he made you cum.

What started out as a warm embrace turned into a passionate kiss that evolved into the most incredibly hot sex you had ever had. You knew you we’re playing with fire, but goddamn, it was worth the burn.

Eddie Munson, despite being 20+ years older than you, was the best lover you had ever had. He loved you slowly, thoroughly , completely, never in a rush, your pleasure was his utmost importance. He had more stamina than any man that you had ever been with, men half his age.He was giving, and holy shit, did he know how to treat a woman.

He was a gentleman, holding doors, pulling out chairs, and you loved how he would reach for your hand, take it in his and kiss your knuckles. He was sweet, and so affectionate, kissing the top of your head, the tip of your nose, nuzzling into your neck or just putting his hand on your leg as you watched a movie together. It made you feel wanted, it made you fall head over heels for him.

After your first time together he made you dinner, he cuddled you, then he fucked your brains out as promised. The man was insatiable. You spent the night that night and left later on the next day, and you wouldn’t have if you didn’t have to work the next day. You talked on the phone every night , met up for lunch mid week at a restaurant halfway between where the two of you worked and then finally Friday rolled around and you practically sprinted out the door of your workplace and went right over to Eddie’s. You couldn’t wait to see him again. You guys ordered Chinese take out ,popped a bottle of wine, got a little tipsy and attempted to watch a movie, which didn’t last long because you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You fell asleep wrapped in his arms, the little spoon to his big spoon, his face buried in your neck.

You woke the next morning to the smell of fresh coffee brewing, and something delicious cooking. You grabbed one of Eddie’s faded Iron Maiden t- shirts, unfolded it and noticed that it was cut into a crop top, you chuckled to yourself than slid it over your head, checked your reflection in the mirror, you wanted to make sure you didn’t look like a total troll, threw your hair up into a high ponytail and padded out to the kitchen.

Eddie was cooking breakfast, happily singing away, air guitaring and flipping pancakes. He looked so sexy standing there barefoot, hair pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck. He was shirtless, his toned chest and abs on full display, his happy trail visible, making your heart race, and Star Wars pajama pants hanging low on his hips. The vision of him in the kitchen was even more delicious than the pancakes he was cooking.

You snuck up behind him, slid your hands down his chest causing him to slightly jump, only because he had been so focused he hadn’t noticed that you had come out.

“ Good morning Mr. Munson. “ You whispered in his ear, giving it a little nibble, and pressing your body up against his.

“ Mmmm, good morning Sweetheart. I didn’t even hear you come out. I wanted to surprise you with breakfast. How did you sleep?”

“ Amazing. How bout you? I’m kind of a bed hog-“

He chuckled.” You were completely sprawled out, total Starfish, tits out and everything.”

“ I got toasty sleeping next to such a hot piece of ass.” You slapped his butt and he yipped.

Eddie turned off the stove ,flipped the last of the pancakes onto a plate , covered them and turned around, “ Fuck, “ he bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body, apparently the crop top and panty combo was really working for him.” Goddamn Kitten, seeing you in my shirt, it’s doing all sorts of things to me“

“ You like?”

“ Oh, I fucking like.” He walked you backwards until he had you pushed back against the counter, pinning you. You could feel how hard he was as he pressed against you.

You placed light kisses across his chest, flicked his nipple rings with your tongue and he groaned.” Does that turn you on baby?”

Eddie threw his head back. “ Jesus Christ, did you just call me baby? THAT turns me the fuck on.”

“ How about this?” You reach down inside his pajama pants and rub your hand along his shaft. You lean in.” Does this turn you on baby, because feeling how hard you are, it’s making me so wet-“

He grabbed you by the waist and sat you up on the counter. He smirked. “ Your such a fucking tease, well guess what Darlin, it’s my turn.” He captured your lips with his, his mouth devouring you, his hands busy under your shirt, squeezing and pinching and making you moan into his mouth. He pulled away, breathing hard, pulling the tee up over your head and lapping at your breast.

“Mmmm Eddie-“

“ Does that turn you on? “ he trailed kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, he dropped to his knees infront of you . “ Spread your legs for me Princess, I’m craving something warm and sweet.”

You bit your lip and looked down at him, your breathing quickening in anticipation as he ran his hands along the inside of your thighs.

“ Don’t be shy, show me that pretty little pussy. “

You spread your legs for him and he places your legs over his shoulders then he runs his tongue along the soft skin of your inner thigh. He pulls your panties aside and licks a long lazy swipe up your slit, then goes back in to kitten lick your clit, making you squirm.” Your so wet for me, I can’t fucking get enough. Look at me Angel, can you see how badly I want you?“ He looks up at you with those big brown eyes , pupils blown with lust,the sight of him between your legs only adding fuel to the fire. He added one finger, two fingers, his tongue lapping and flicking.

“ F-fuck, Eddie, feels so, so fucking good.” You lightly grab onto his head, pulling his hair, making him groan, the vibration sending you over the edge. You involuntarily squeeze his head with your thighs, drawing him closer. It makes him moan. You felt it, the slow rolling wave of ecstasy washing over you. You grab onto the edge of the counter, bracing yourself and throw your head back. “ Ed-Eddie,” you whine, your body shaking. It takes you a moment to pull yourself together but when you do you open your eyes and see Eddie smiling up at you clearly proud of himself for making you cum so hard.

He slowly lick his lips,” Good till the last drop.” He winks at you.

You groan and smile down at him. “ Your going to be the Death of me Eddie Munson!”

“ Yeah, but what a fucking way to go.” He got to his feet in one smooth movement and wrapped you in his arms, kissing the top of your head. “Hungry Doll face?”

“ Hungry for your Cock.” You answered without hesitation. You weren’t quite done with him yet.

“ Well, we can’t have that now can we?” He leaned in close.” Tell me what you want Sweetheart, want me to bend you over this counter and bury myself deep inside you from behind? Or do you want me to fuck you up against that wall over there? Or-“

“ Take me right here Baby, please? I need more.” You tugged at his pants, his cock springing up and slapping him. “ Hard and fast, that’s what I want.”

He pulled away from you for a moment, “ I’m so fucking wound up Darling I don’t know how long I’ll last-“

“ It won’t take long baby, don’t worry. Just fucking pound me.”

He smirked at you.“ I love a lady that knows what she wants. What Princess wants, Princess gets.” He didn’t waste another second, he pulled you to the edge of the counter, pulled your panties off and plowed into you. You gasped, the sensation was incredible, the way that he filled you,stretched you.You were already so wet he glided in with ease.

“ Does that feel good Love? “ He thrusted into at a rapid pace, making your head spin. “ Is that what you wanted?”

“ Yes, yes Eddie, d-dont stop-“

“ I wasn’t planning on it Sweetheart,” He kept it up until you were both crying out in pleasure, both breathing hard and trembling.

He laid you back on the cool countertop, collapsing on top of you. He kissed your lips , your neck.“ I’m going to be in the best shape of my life, fucking you is the best workout there is.”

“ I’m happy I can help out.”

He lifted himself up off you and helped you to your feet. “ I don’t know about you but I am fucking ravenous! “

“ You just burned a million calories.” You found his t- shirt on the floor and pulled it down over your head, excused your self to use the bathroom and came back wearing a pair of his boxers as well.

Eddie had the table set, a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee waiting for you. He sat down and tore into the stack of hotcakes. “ Dig in Sweets.” He smiled, lips glossy with sticky syrup.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Just minutes ago he was looking up at you from between your thighs, eyes smoldering with lust and now he was so adorable, smiling at you with a mouthful of pancakes.

“ What?” He swallowed then paused, fork and knife in hand.” Do I have syrup on my face?”

You leaned forward and licked the sticky syrup from his lips, then sat back and winked.” Good till the last drop.”

Part 3- Clearing the air is now up!

Thank you for reading! As always comments and reblogs are welcome ❤️

[heich0e]

wouldn't it be nice? - suna rintarou/f!reader (haikyuu!): fluff but suggestive at times, established relationship, talk of babies/families/pregnancy, committing to the bit is all fun and games until the bit commits to you, tw: light miscommunication since some of u guys hate that, let the record show this was NOT written for his birthday, i didn't even KNOW it was today ok, i will not be taking questions at this time (or ever)

You know exactly what started it.

The problem.

It was some sappy commercial you saw on TV one lazy Sunday afternoon.

You rarely even watch television—not proper cable television anyway—preferring the simplicity of streaming services in this modern day and age. It's a complete fluke that you happen across it at all while you and Rintarou rest sprawled across his couch in the afternoon sun, your feet tucked underneath his thigh. You wouldn't even go on to remember what the commercial was for; all you remember is the perfect, cherubic little baby at the centre of it, and the way that it made your heart melt.

You let out a long, wistful sigh once the advertisement transitions into the next. "I want to hold a baby."

It piques his interest. That stupid, completely unremarkable comment that you'd come soon to regret.

Rintarou pulls himself a little more upright at his end of the sofa, shooting you a mischievous look. His expression might seem placid to most people, impassive even, but you know it, and him, and all his minute eccentricities too well to be fooled.

"I'll give you a baby," he muses, angling his body over yours on the sofa with his arms caging your waist. You draw your legs back instinctively—hips perpendicular to your thighs and heels to the bottom of your bum—at the first sign of trouble.

Your lip curls, and you lift your sock-clad feet so they press flat against his chest, pushing him back with all the strength you can. He hardly budges, but you expect as much.

"Ew, Rin," you snort, head lolling to the side to idly watch the next useless commercial on TV as it unfolds, “gross."

Suna pauses, a hand loosely circling your ankle, and you glance at him from the corner of your eye. There's a look that you don't recognize that flitters across his face. His grip tightens a little, his thumb sweeping down over the round protrusion of your joint and back again.

"Gross?" he asks softly.

"Yeah, gross," you say, pulling your foot out of his hold. It takes a bit of effort, because he doesn’t seem to want to move, but you roll over onto your side and wiggle out from under him to rise up off the sofa. You shuffle into the kitchen for a snack, and you feel his eyes on you as you go.

But that was just the start.

You’re not sure if you just never noticed, or if the universe has a deeply perverse sense of cosmic humour, but after that Sunday afternoon, it seems like there are babies everywhere you go. 

And if not actual living, breathing babies, then it's all matter of things that are decidedly baby-adjacent. Itty bitty onesies on display at the store you two are shopping at. Sweet souvenir plushies at the Aquarium that are meant for little ones to hold. Diapers, formula, and various other baby necessities are advertised in the posters mounted on bus stops, on train stations platforms, and on flashing digital billboards. 

And every single time, without fail, you see them when you’re with Suna. 

And every single time, without fail, he looks at you and waits for you to meet his gaze. 

You’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding it, honestly. But then he’ll always make some comment. Point it out. Make it obvious.

“Look at that baby’s tiny hand. I bet our baby will have my hands.”

“Can you believe that babies are really this little? Do you think ours will be this small?” 

“If you were buying these for our baby would you get the yellow or the—“

“Trick question,” you cut Suna off, snagging the yellow pair of training chopsticks (complete with a little ducky on top) out from his hands and shoving them back onto the display he’d just plucked them off of. You don’t allow yourself to linger for too long on how cute they really are. “Babies don’t use chopsticks, and also we’re not having a baby.”

You continue down the aisle of the market, a familiar pain throbbing just behind your eyes that Rintarou seems so uniquely skilled at eliciting. Your face is hot too, but that’s probably just from the frustration. After a moment you hear his feet shuffling along after you, and the two of you finish your grocery shopping in relative silence.

You’re used to putting up with all of your boyfriend’s other annoyances and oddities, so this is just another one to add to the ever-growing list. But this time, something feels a bit… different. 

The two of you stop at a vending machine for coffee on your walk home since it’s cold out. Suna has the largest of your two reusable grocery bags looped over one of his arms, and somehow while you’re digging for change in your wallet he manages to weasel the other one off of your arm and onto his own, too. 

“There’s a coffee shop right around the corner, why are you stopping here?” he asks, watching as you carefully make your selection from the humming machine in front of you. You press the button of your choice, and a can of cafe au lait clunks down into the waiting chute below. 

“The metal can keeps my hands warmer,” you explain, sticking a few more yen into the machine and choosing Rintarou’s favourite, too. His choice makes the same descent yours had, and you crouch down to retrieve it for him, holding it out to him in offering as you stand. 

He blinks at you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, shaking his head a little. “Hands are full, anyway.”

You balk at him soundlessly for a moment. “Give the other bag back, then!”

“Nope,” he replies, making a point to enunciate it clearly in a way that you know he knows drives you crazy. He takes a step in the direction of your apartment, and you have no choice but to stick the can of coffee he’d declined into your coat pocket and chase after him.

It does a great job of keeping your hand—tucked into your pocket and wrapped around it—warm as you walk, though.

Nearly back at your apartment, your can of coffee drained and properly disposed of, a little ball of fluff waddles past you on the sidewalk, heading towards the entrance of a nearby park. You and Rintarou both pause, equally confused by what you’ve just spotted.

Behind the amorphous little thing is a couple, maybe a few years older than you two are, trailing not even a metre away. You watch as they coo and fawn over it as is wobbles unsteadily towards the open stretch of grass ahead. They call it pet-names, and try to convince it to turn around for mom and dad so they can take a picture.

Oh.

A baby.

Probably a little older than a baby given the whole… walking thing. But it’s still so tiny, even in its big, puffy coat, so they can’t be very old. The hood is pulled up over the child’s head, and you realize upon closer inspection that it has—

“Teddy-bear ears,” Rintarou says, cupping his fingers over his mouth and blowing warm air into his hands. “That’s so cute.”

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile, watching as the child toddles along in their fluffy little teddy jacket.

Suna must have put the grocery bags down at his feet at some point when the two of you stopped walking, and when he pulls his hands back from his face, you see how the tip of his nose has gone pink from the cold. He dips down in front of you, his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing you up-close. 

“What?” you ask him nervously, a hand fluttering self consciously to your face. 

His breath leaves his mouth in wispy clouds as he tilts his head to the side. He’s so close that the warmth brushes against your lips like an airy, indirect kiss. You wonder if he can taste the coffee that clings to yours.

“What?” you repeat yourself again, a little more insistently this time. You reach up and pinch either of his cheeks between your thumbs and forefingers—stretching the pliable flesh outwards in an attempt to get him to back off a bit. His rosy cheeks are cool under your warm touch.

“Do you think we’d make a cute baby?” Rintarou asks, though the question is a little garbled thanks to your grip, and your stomach clenches involuntarily. His hands, and his frigid fingertips, reach up and rest over your own where you’re still pinching his cheeks—though your vice has eased slightly.

“You can barely even make an omelet,” you huff out as heat rises in your cheeks, pulling your hands out from under his and looking away. “Like I’d ever trust you to make a baby.”

“People make them all the time by accident, you know,” he remarks, rubbing at his stinging cheeks where you’d been pinching him. “I’m sure I could do it on purpose if I really set my mind to it.”

You dip down and grab the grocery bag he’d taken off your hands earlier, hiking it up onto your shoulder.

“Why are you so obsessed with this stupid baby joke?” you ask him exasperatedly, following it with a long, aggrieved sigh that you can see as you breathe it out.

He looks at you for a moment, his brow pinching in the middle. His nose is still so pink, and it makes the green in his eyes stand out more. 

You watch how Suna’s lips part, like he’s going to say something, but then they press together in a thin line again without uttering a word. He picks up his grocery bag with one hand and sets off in the direction of home, and this time you feel a little sheepish as you follow after him.

The apartment is quiet when you return home, and it stays that way as the two of you unpack the groceries in your kitchen side by side. You bought more than you usually would on a weekly grocery trip, all because Suna’s been staying over more than he usually does. But there’s a sudden frostiness that seems to have creeped in from outside, as if clinging to your coattails, and the chill has now settled between the two of you. 

It makes a strange sort of anxiety prickle under the surface of your skin, tender like a bruise. It makes you wonder if half of these groceries are going to go to waste.

“I’ll shower first,” Rintarou mutters without turning towards you after he puts the last pantry item away and closes the cabinet.

Stress sits heavy in the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t look at you. It’s intentional, you know it is. Suna’s favourite hobby is staring at you—he’s told you that himself many, many times. But he doesn’t even spare you a glance before he shuffles off towards your bedroom. 

You stand in silence in the kitchen, as though that weight in your gut keeps you anchored in place. You can hear the rustle of Rintarou’s clothes hitting the hamper. You hear the bathroom door close. You hear the spray of the shower turn on. 

You hear your heartbeat. Loud and wet in your ears.

You’re being ridiculous. You know that. You’re all worked up over nothing. 

This was all just some stupid joke that he was being annoying about in the first place. That he found every possible opportunity to bring up. 

You aren’t even sure what’s upset him so much; uncertain as to why you being annoyed about one of his blatant attempts to annoy you seems to have caused him offence.

You curl up on your sofa as Rintarou showers, picking at the fraying cuff of your hoodie as you similarly pull apart every second of your memory from the walk home from the market in an attempt to identify what could possibly have gone wrong. You’re thinking about the can of coffee—left sitting, unopened and room-temperature now, on your kitchen counter—when you hear the shower turn off.

The seconds tick by agonizingly slowly as you wait for your sullen boyfriend to emerge, but when he does he still seems resolved to avoid you. You wait on the sofa, your fingers stilled in the motion of fiddling with your sleeve, anticipating that he’ll come ask you to blow-dry his hair, just like he always does.

He doesn’t. 

The hairdryer clicks on in the other room, and the sound makes you feel sick. 

“Rin!” your voice leaves you involuntarily, without an ounce of conscious effort. You sound panicked.

The hairdryer clicks off immediately, and Rintarou appears in the doorway to your bedroom—half-dressed and hair half-dried—in an instant. His eyes are alight with concern.

Your hand had flown to your mouth as soon as you called out for him, too late to actually muffle the sound. But it stays there as you look at him with shocked, notably-guilty eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks you, eying you suspiciously.

“Nothing,” you murmur, your fingers still resting lightly over your lips, you avert your eyes. “It’s nothing, sorry.”

He hesitates in the doorway for a moment, and then turns to head back to the hairdryer.

“It’s just—“

He pauses when you speak again, one of his hands resting on the doorframe he’s lingering beneath—neither in nor fully out. 

“—you’re mad at me.”

You watch his shoulder blades as your words hang in the air between the two of you. The chill in your apartment, unlike it had been outside, is only proverbial—but you half expect to see wisps of vapour slipping out on the edge of your breaths.

“I can’t figure out what I did wrong.”

Suna looks at you over his shoulder, his already vulpine eyes narrowing a little further. Not in irritation, but consideration. For all the strangeness between the two of you today, you can still recognize that much in his expression. 

“I’m not mad at you,” he finally says, and you hate how relieved you feel at so few words. Hate even more how him turning back to face you makes the weight in your stomach lessen. That as he approaches you on the sofa you feel the air warm with every step.

Rintarou perches on the edge of your couch, a full cushion between the two of you as you sit there quietly. Both of his feet are on the ground, but yours are drawn up onto the sofa with you, facing him. Slowly your feet creep forward, slipping your toes under his sweat-pant clad thigh.

Suna’s head droops forward, and he lets out a breathy, wry laugh.

“What are your theories so far?” he asks quietly. 

Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

He peeks over at you, peering up at you from the corner of his eye.

“What do you think you might have done wrong?”

You hum quietly, pursing your lips slightly.

“Well, I… I thought maybe I got you the wrong coffee. I didn’t ask, but you always choose that one, so I just thought…”

Suna clicks his tongue.

“Nope.”

You huff a bit, staring at your hands in your lap. “Well… there was that baby at the park.”

You feel Suna’s eyes on you, but you’re suddenly too wary to meet them. He doesn’t tell you you’re wrong though, so you continue. 

“And I said you can’t make an omelet.”

He laughs a bit again, and you know that wasn’t it either.

“Are you upset because I said that I didn’t think you could make a baby?” you ask, peeking up at him. “Rin, I’m borderline militant about taking my birth control. I obviously don’t think you’re impo—“

Rintarou tips his head up a little further, meeting your gaze. Caught in his stare, it’s suddenly like your words die before you can get them off the tip of your tongue. Slowly, he reaches out towards you, taking one of your fidgeting hands and holding it in his. His touch is warm now, in contrast to what it had been at the park. He lifts your hand up to his mouth.

Delicately, he kisses your fingertips. His lips brush against the digits, over your knuckles and up to your palms. He presses your hand to his cheek and looks at you with the most pitiful gaze. It makes your chest ache. 

“I don’t like it when you say that,” he says reticently. And for all Rintarou’s height and weight and sheer breadth, he sounds so impossibly small.

“Say what?” you ask him, and your voice is quiet too. Vulnerable.

He leans his flushing cheek into your hand, holding it to his face and closing his eyes as he nuzzles into your touch.

“That you wouldn’t have my baby,” he whispers, “that you don’t want it.”

You resist the urge to pull away. It’s an instinct you can’t explain: a desire to keep him at a distance, to always laugh things off, to make a joke out of very real feelings. 

“Because I do.”

You blink.

Suna opens his eyes and looks at you, and for the first time you see the very real, very not joking pain in his eyes.

“I want that with you.”

Your mouth is dry and you’re frozen. You stare at him, completely still, stunned by his sincere confession.

“What?” you manage to squeak out. 

Rintarou closes his eyes again, breathing out a little sigh. He pulls your hand from his cheek, folding your fingers down so they’re hooked in a loose fist around his thumb. He brings your hand to his lips, not quite a kiss but close enough to call it that anyway. 

“Not right now,” he murmurs into your knuckles, lips brushing against you as he speaks the words. “But someday.”

You’re still so shocked that you don’t know how to respond. He peers at you, hand still held to his lips, his eyes more resolved than they are wounded now. 

“And I want you to want that. But I don’t know how to make you want it too.”

Your heartbeat thumps in your chest, resonant and palpable. Heat has crawled all the way up your face now, and you’re fairly certain your hand has gone clammy, but Rintatou passes no comment even if it has.

“Do you think you could?” he asks you quietly. Sheepishly. Earnestly. “Could you want that? With me?” 

You pitch yourself forward suddenly, and Rintarou lets out a little grunt of surprise as the two of you topple back into the sofa. You hide your burning face in the crook of his neck, that smells like your body wash and shampoo but somehow so much better, clutching onto him like your life depends on it. Suna seems shocked for a moment as he finds himself flat on his back with your weight on top of him, and his body is stiff as he processes it. After a few beats of your too-loud, too-telling heart pass, he finally eases. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you tightly to him.

“You’re so stupid,” you grumble, your eyes squeezing shut tightly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and you can hear the smile in his voice. The genuine laughter that’s hiding just behind the words. He hugs you a little tighter. “Probably.”

You stay like that for a while, basking in the warmth of Rintarou’s body and the rhythm of his breath.

“You love me though,” he says quietly, “so that reflects pretty badly on you.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze, and find him barely holding in a laugh. You can’t help but laugh with him. Can’t help but enjoy your favourite sound.

Rintarou scoops you up in his arms again, tugging you into his lap. He presses featherlight kisses to the corner of your jaw, and you fiddle with his long, lithe fingers. He sighs, but this time the sound is at ease. His damp hair tickles your face as he rests his forehead against your temple, nosing at your cheek.

“Hey, Rin?” you murmur as you run your thumb over the space between his first and second knuckle on his ring finger. You think about the kid you saw at the park in the fluffy jacket, and the besotted parents trailing along behind it.

He answers you with a content, if not slightly curious, hum. 

You turn your face towards him, and your noses brush. Rintarou’s lashes flutter as his gaze turns a little heavy-lidded. You can feel his breath on your lips, that’s how close he is. You inch forward until the space between you is almost completely gone.

And just before your lips meet, you smile.

“I do think we’ll make a cute baby.”

[novaawayne]

YUUTA’S GIRL || Yuuji Itadori

pairing: Yuuta x Fem reader | Yuuji x Fem reader (platonic)

summary: When Yuuji meets you, he can't stop thinking that you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. Unfortunate no one told him that you are Yuuta's girl

warnings: smut, voyeurism, established relationship with Yuuta, overstimulation, penetration. Tell me if I forgot something.

wc: +1.3k

a/n. English is not my first language.

masterlist

When Yuuji met you, he was simply fascinated. You were so pretty and nice. You were talking to Inumaki, it seemed like you two were very good friends.

He immediately approached with a huge smile to introduce himself to you. He was delighted when you gave him a white smile and a greeting just as lively as the one he gave you.

You told him many things and explained a few more about how he could improve his training. Yuuji thanked you and asked you to train him when you have some free time.

Yuuji was a very outgoing and kind boy, so no one had suspected that he was interested in you romantically or else they would have warned him that you had a boyfriend. Also, it was something you never mentioned, how could Itadori have known? He was giving you clear flirtatious signals and he thought he was being very clear. Or not?

Also, when he first met Yuuta, the two of you barely interacted in his presence. Again, how could he have suspected?

It was a few months later when he decided to ask you out on a date. Itadori was on his way to your room and was about to knock on the door but some strange sounds prevented him from doing so.

The sliding door was a bit open, it was a small opening but there was a direct view to your bed.

He was surprised to see you riding Yuuta's dick. The raven-haired boy hugged your waist tightly while he left kisses on your clavicle and with his other hand he squeezed your hard nipples.

Your ass was constantly moving up and down, in and out of Yuuta's hard cock.

You were quite noisy compared to Yuuta, who was just breathing heavily and raggedly, enjoying the feel of your walls caressing his length.

Yuuji wasn't sure, but for a second he saw Yuuta staring at him with one eye open. Yuuta hadn't taken her lips off your skin but he had opened his eyes to look at the door. He couldn't have noticed, right?

But what Itadori noticed was how Yuuta's palm hit your ass hard, making his hand mark your skin. You screamed from both pain and pleasure.

Yuuji felt his cheeks flush red and a sense of embarrassment. He shouldn't be looking at something so intimate but he couldn't look away.

Your lips met Yuuta's in a messy, needy kiss.

Yuuji's hand traveled to the inside of his pants. It wasn't intentional, but it was starting to hurt the way his pants were tightening on him.

Not sure if anyone else was in the hallway, he began to stroke his cock. Watching your pretty pussy swallow Yuuta's cock and listening to you moan your lover's name.

He imagined himself in Yuuta's place and his thumb stroked the slit at the tip of him with great force before sliding the pre-cum down his entire length.

He lifted the hem of his shirt to put it between his teeth, most of his abdomen was exposed but at least that way he could muffle his moans a bit. It would be bad if someone found out, wouldn't it?

Your position changed, this time your back was leaning against Yuuta's chest, your legs were spread wide and were supported in this way by the boy's knees. Yuuta's hands caressed the inside of your thigh gently and Yuuji had a perfect view of your pussy being drilled by Yuuta's cock.

Your head snapped back to land on Yuuta's shoulder, who took advantage of the space to drop kisses down your neck.

One of his hands found its way to your clit and the other hand to your nipple.

Yuuji's hand moved faster, too excited by the scene unfolding before his eyes. He knew that he should look away, that he should leave this place, but his eyes remained open and his feet were unable to move.

“Yu… Yuuta… it's too much” you stammered.

"C'mon darling. I know you're a good girl and you can give me one more"

Yuuta's hand went to your clit to rub it hard, you let out a cry as you felt your arousal released. Yuuta was quieter, but his gasps were heard throughout the room as he peaked at him.

He left a couple of marks on your neck before coming out of you. Your legs were shaking and you still weren't able to catch your breath.

Yuuji was still biting hard on the edge of his shirt to stifle his gasps. His hand was stained with his semen just like his clothes.

It took him a moment to recover. He saw Yuuta making you comfortable on the bed, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before disappearing into what appeared to be the bathroom. He also saw him come back to clean you up, your eyes could barely stay open but Yuuji noticed the way you were looking at Yuuta. With lots of love.

—-

The next day, Yuuji was in the common room waiting for Nobara and Fushiguro to come out. What he didn't expect was to see you walking through that door with a big smile and wearing a beautiful summer dress. He also noticed a small mark on your chest, probably you had hidden the others with makeup because Yuuji remembers seeing all over your body full of marks.

"Hello, Itadori" you greeted him, sitting next to him.

Yuuji looked away immediately, feeling his cheeks start to burn. You looked at him confused.

"Everything is alright?" You asked again.

The boy tried to control himself before looking at you. But the images of you stark naked made it hard for him to think straight.

He cleared his throat before speaking.

"I'm fine" he looked at you with a smile "I'm sorry, it's just... I was going to sneeze"

"I hope you don't catch a cold" he looked at your radiant smile "will you go out today?"

He nodded.

"I'll go to the city with Nobara and Fushiguro"

“That sounds fun”

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, trying to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“Yes, I will go out with Yuuta and Inumaki. Panda and Maki have to stay to train, so it's just the three of us."

Yuuji didn't know what else to say and unfortunately for him, the ones who appeared through that door were Yuuta and Inumaki. He was really hoping it was Nobara or at least Fushiguro.

You stood up quickly to go hug Yuuta, who welcomed you with open arms and without you noticing, he shot a quick look at Yuuji that left him frozen in place of him.

Yuuta took your hand before approaching Itadori with a kind smile. Inumaki stood aside, sensing how tense the atmosphere suddenly became. Although he already got an idea from the way Yuuta was acting.

"Itadori" greeted Yuuta. Inumaki just raised a hand "Fushiguro told me they were going to the city, I thought they had already left"

Everyone noticed how Itadori's face flushed violently red.

“Mhm… I'm waiting for them to come. Surely Nobara hasn't decided on an outfit yet” he started to laugh, but it seemed like an awkward laugh.

"I understand, then we'll go" Yuuta took your hand more tightly but you didn't take it seriously at that moment "it's rare that our days off coincide and we want to take advantage of it"

"Salmon" Inumaki agreed and you gave him a cute smile.

“Yuuji, are you sure you're alright? Your face is very red. It could be a cold"

Of course, you were so oblivious to Yuuji's feelings for you. But Yuuta hadn't missed the way Yuuji had been looking at you and how he had been wanting to ask you out on a date.

He also didn't miss how the day before he had been outside your room watching everything he did to you. Let alone he missed how he cum at the same time as you.

"I'm fine" he assured "have fun"

"Okay, but you should go see a doctor if you don't feel well."

"I will do it"

He watched them walk away, you taking Yuuta's hand and staying very close to him. Yuuji wanted to be in his place.

Yuuji wanted Yuuta's girl.

↬ written by Novaawayne

[mandalhoerian]

ghost to its haunt, I | leon kennedy x reader

read part 1: moth to a flame pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader summary: Even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt. But this time, it has to be different. word count: 6K warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, peppers of fluff as a treat, smut (blink and you'll miss it), leon being feral from day one like seriously he's unhinged, his negative self-talk notes: this installment comes in two chapters. chapter two is still being written and will be published and linked here when i'm done. header template can be found here. we're nearly at the end besties, thank you for sticking with me until the end, and please enjoy.

🌀 read on ao3! 🌀 NEXT CHAPTER

i. Leon knew right from day one when you’d breached the solitary safety of his shadowed corner in the bar of his unusual drinking choice, that you were tempting and twice as dangerous as a mirage to a parched man lost in the desert. 

In the pleasantly neon-lit sanctuary of a bustling bar, amidst the cacophony of clinking glasses and spirited conversations, he stuck out like a sore thumb with the air of melancholy around him, making people near his booth uneasy with the way he was observing everything — to them, he was not to be approached, as if one look to his way would be enough for him to start a fight, but in reality it was his inability to relax in crowds, subconscious calculating for unlikely scenarios to unfold and contingency plans on how to get away. Yet he’d wanted to come here just once anyway, see what made here one of Major Krauser’s favorites, it was psychological torture, but Leon did it to himself anyway, knowing so.  

You came to Leon first when nobody would approach him, setting a starting point of the pattern in your relationship where this’d be repeating over and over again. 

The stifling hot humidity of the South American forest and how heavier the stench of blood stuck at the back of his nose still followed him around months after, and you tracked the trail like a shark in the water, it was in the way you’d been openly watching him upon spotting him in his corner, in the way you slid towards him in the booth, eyes glinting, seeking, curious, expecting — giving straight away of how fresh you were to this compared to the poor unfortunate soul before you chasing after Operation Javier. 

You looked young, around his age, but had a certain softness and eagerness that reminded him of an unprepared rookie back in 1998, so before you could get a word in, he’d said, “I suggest you walk away for your own safety. You know how this ends.”  

You know how this ends. 

Such first words. What a way to doom an entire relationship and a person. 

If Leon knew how his words had shaped the reality he’d chosen, he’d have gone with something promising, more open, like, “How’d you know I wanted company?” — he’d expressed himself more, made his attraction more prominent, secured you to him better, but he was always about safety and protection, wasn’t he? Paranoid beyond belief, self-sabotaging. Of course he’d warned you about taking caution so you wouldn’t get hurt, especially given what had happened to the previous journalist looking into the operation. 

Your reaction to this was opting to buy him a drink instead of getting intimidated. Leon had made it clear over and over again he wouldn’t tell you anything and to go your own way. You didn’t know anything about him other than being a connection of the White House to Operation Javier somehow and he certainly wouldn’t be the one reporting this back to the base, so he made sure this was about saving one more person’s life from being ruined in vain even after this brief encounter had led to a hasty hookup in a bathroom stall and eventually to a hotel room like he was some teenager with no control over his dick —

You had ruined everything. 

Unabashedly interested in him and just pushing, eager, genuine, passionate as you kept talking about your job in wanting to expose corruption the more he kept things dry and silent, and he just saw the same spark in you that he had once; how naive, how idiotic, how endearing — such respect-worthy dignity and enthusiasm and drive that you had managed to find him of all people in your pursuit. He’d never been attracted to anyone quite like this, not the same way with Ada, not in that elusively mysterious and alluring, dangerous and unapproachable, thrilling distance, but the other end of the spectrum, the sort that fed on kinship and admiration that made him want to protect you from what he knew would happen if you kept going like this. 

Jesus, it should have been discouraging you from this path and nothing more, instead, Leon had been randomly snapped out of years of dissociation and autopilot since Raccoon City, and for what? Mind-blowing sex he didn’t even know was coming for his throat on a random fall night in 2002? 

Really, it was his routine being broken that had done it.

His life was meticulously governed by strict routines and unwavering habits, as if each day were a precisely choreographed fight, a paragon of order and structure. Leon’s world thrived on meticulous organization, where every document, tool, and weapon had its designated place. Even the symmetry of his living space mirrored the precision of his mind, with every item aligned flawlessly, punctuality eventually becoming second nature to him, his internal clock a finely tuned instrument, ensuring he was never a moment late, not at all a result of being late in his first day as a cop. Time was a precious commodity, a resource he safeguarded fiercely, as he understood that even the smallest delay could have dire consequences. This devotion to structure allowed him to remain laser-focused on his objectives, and also avoid hellish punishments back at Offutt Air Force Base located near Omaha, Nebraska where he had spent quite some time as a special agent trainee.

Military would make a clockwork out of anyone, but being trained under Major Krauser had turned him into a well-oiled machine that only had training and mission objectives in mind. Leon used to be highly adaptable and open to surprises before, but his encounter with you had revealed just how unprepared and anxious to impulses he’d been molded to become. Spontaneity had ended up a stranger to him, an unwelcome disruption that threatened to dismantle his carefully constructed world, and as an extension, anything else was regarded as losing control — which was, an unthinkable notion; he had been trained to maintain composure in the most chaotic of situations. 

There wasn’t even the semblance of composure in how he handled you. 

Never in his wildest dreams would he entertain the thought of someone managing to unbelievably, randomly, turn him on so uncontrollably one day that he’d lose his mind enough to risk public indecency in a fucking bathroom stall with pants around his ankles not only once, but twice. 

Sitting on the toilet with your back to his chest, one leg spread wide open over his knee and the other hiked up in the air from his elbow, you basically limp in his arms as all you could concentrate on was shutting your mouth tight enough not to make noise as he wildly bounced you up and down on his lap — and the next thing he knew after blowing his load right after with no rest whatsoever was that he had you flat against the graffiti-stained door separating a bunch of girls from what the two of you were doing, one hand clamped on your mouth, having you press your thighs together so he could languidly slip back and forth against the tight crevice of your wetness and the plushness combined that he had to use all his control for the door to not rattle and feeling your pussy spasm each time he grazed your clit, his head buried in the crook of your neck whispering filth he didn’t know his mind was capable of conjuring right to your ear with no filter —- how much of a pervert you were to be enjoying this when all it had to take was a peep from you for people right in front of you to discover you were getting off to the thought the humiliation of being looked at while getting fucked from behind, all the while it was Leon who was dying to explode from how horny he was that it was unbearably painful. 

And the only thing he could think about was to hell with it all and the hammering of his heart to hear you moan uncontrollably, he could just plunge inside you right then and there, had to bite down on your clothed shoulder to hold back the impulse, hell, it took everything in him to keep his breathing steady and not heave, every second the girls didn’t leave was dragged torture, his legs were trembling from holding back and the sheer excitement, but holy shit was it concentrated ecstasy that had his eyes rolling behind his head when they had finally left and he’d rammed himself in to the hilt so forcefully that the hinges of the door had almost broken off.

You had consumed him whole, your skin, your scent, your taste, wrapping him in a cocoon of warmth and pleasure and just digesting his whole being that he didn’t even have one grain of logic or common sense as a pea brain or nothing — just that he wanted to keep fucking and it was so soft and everything just felt so good and good god Leon was going to have an aneurysm from overheating because of you.    

The post-nut clarity after all that was interesting to say the least. 

A blood clot had to have shot up to his brain for his sanity to have snapped like that … And for him to think this wasn’t enough and he wanted more as you rested in his embrace — in a fucking bathroom stall. He wasn’t a people person. He simply didn’t do this shit in the first place, what was even happening?

Leon didn’t know what to be embarrassed about: of himself for doing this kind of thing in a place like this or disrespectfully exerting a woman to this degree, he had no idea whatsoever where all the talk about getting discovered had come from, didn’t that make Leon the pervert? Good lord. 

He had to be thankful that you were coming down from a high and had no energy to turn around and look at his face, because you surely would see him transition from all shades of red out of shame. What the actual hell had come over him?  

Leon was made aware that night that it’d been such a long time since he’d felt such a visceral physical response to someone that his whole body was in a flushed flurry — the kind of intensity that hadn’t even scraped the top of his heated need, he couldn’t even think before suggesting you two take this to somewhere else better that he could drown in this feeling some more. 

The man who said this basking in your afterglow and the man who warned you about how this ended were two different people. 

The man at the very beginning of this would have known better than to let himself indulge in you. 

But your pull was worse than that of a black hole’s, and in Leon’s mind, him taking you to a hotel room was equivalent in his mind to tossing you over his shoulder like an impatient caveman foaming at the mouth, and he knew he’d looked so constipated and unenthusiastic about it back then because he was trying to keep his shit together and not let his libido rush straight to his head, it was absolutely batshit crazy that his mouth was fucking salivating over you and he had to physically fight not to get hard where he stood, especially after having a taste of how you melted in his arms and he just couldn’t keep his together and — this was unreal, Leon had never went into a frenzy over someone before and you’d just taken it. 

He wanted to be gentle, enjoy it, savor it, and you weren’t even going anywhere, but even after he’d gotten him and you a room, Leon had taken you like he hadn’t fucked in his life before, like his dick had gotten hard for the first time in his life, and pathetically like he was desperate for his skin to touch another human being’s — and you… 

You. 

You had made everything worse. 

He still remembered that exact moment when your hands found his hair, the gentleness of the caressing contrasting his rough rutting, he remembered how the rhythmic squeaking of the bed stuttered and gave it right away that he was caught off guard even though his head was buried in the cushion of your tits — embarrassing, utterly disgraceful, all that you’d done was pet his fucking head and his heart had purred like a goddamn cat, and even more shameful was that he’d come right on the spot when you’d started pulling on his strands, Jesus fuck, he wanted to die on the spot. 

One condom change and a carry to the bed later (because Leon had shattered upon passing the threshold of the hotel door and he’d wrapped your legs around his hips and had you against the door, again) things had finally begun to become mellow and sensual as he’d started enjoying you, significantly calmer and more collected compared to before, paying more attention to how you liked it and what you liked, where you liked better, putting those observational skills to more gratifying uses. 

Somehow this was the most satiated he’d been yet, actually taking in the sight of you struggling against the pleasure brought him the unexpectedly superior fulfillment to chasing his own height. He was alerted and awake, sensitive to the very last cell watching you, endeared, wanting to give you every last drop of euphoria he could just to see how you’d react to it. And the more he explored, the more he couldn’t get enough, so adorable, so sexy, so hot, how could he take pleasure in making someone cry? How and why the hell couldn’t his dick stay down for five minutes? 

By the time he’d finally become downright spent and quenched the fire inside, the sun had already risen, the floor was just littered with ripped condom packets, you were covered in hickeys, bite marks and bruises that he’d questioned if he was a feral animal, and the sheets were… disgusting. 

Leon was a repenting sinner with an imaginary tail between his tails when he’d wrapped you in clean linen and laid you on the sofa, changed the sheets, and straightened the pillows, getting you to pee and drawing a bath for you afterwards, it was mortifying he’d made you basically unable to walk for the time being, and he surely didn’t deserve your insistence that you two share the bath together, twice as horrified and disturbed at the tender intimacy with which you’d washed him, warm fingers massaging his scalp almost lulling him to sleep.  

Sharing the room service breakfast, streaks of golden sunlight of the early hours washing your face and making the white of your bathrobe glow as he tried not to make it obvious he was ogling, you’d tricked him into promising you a date for all that he’d put you through that night, you’d be calling in sick; and Leon was covering his face in guilt and embarrassment inside even though all that he’d presented you was an abashed grin and an, “As the lady wishes.” — stupidly giddy enough to have lowered his guard (like that idiot in 1998) that you hadn’t suggested this because you wanted information out of him but were genuinely interested in his company, in him. 

He wasn’t overthinking it back then, just reveling in your presence, luxuriating in the fluffy, satisfied, peaceful feeling, new to him, not afraid of how it could be ephemeral. He was drunk, and not conscious about the fact just yet.  

The withdrawals had hit right after parting ways with you — this was a mistake, this was a huge mistake, he shouldn’t have promised anything, he shouldn’t even have done this in the first place. Leon had no time for this, couldn’t even keep a plant alive if he committed, didn’t know how it’d work, nobody was allowed to know about the kind of work he did, the world of bioterrorism was a secret kept so tightly it became nooses around the necks of nosey individuals. 

He just couldn’t allow himself to loosen the leash around his normal because if he did let go of himself, he would make a mistake. That mistake could doom you. 

More importantly than it not being fair to you, he’d be putting you in danger just by being in your proximity. 

All that fretting around, putting the stress of wishing to see you again but the garbage feeling he mustn’t (that he hadn’t expected to make him this moody) into exercising more intensely than before, and ending up scaring the folks around the office unintentionally in work, only to feel immediately like spring had come at the drop of a hat when you’d called saying because he hadn’t, apparently, and you were waiting for him. 

This was terrifying. How you made him feel... It was entirely out of his control. 

I suggest you walk away for your own safety. You know how this ends.

Leon should have kept telling this to himself. 

ii. The date was at your place, planned from start to finish by you, an attentiveness and special treatment he didn’t deserve, but Leon got warm inside anyway, especially after you said this seemed like the better option since he didn’t seem to do well in crowds. Something about him being noticed on this kind of personal level had caused him to confuse his right from his left and he was sure his palms were sticky just from that and the way you smiled. 

You’d said you wanted to get to know him, and Leon unfortunately didn’t have enough going out experience to decide if cooking together and then sitting down to solve a murder mystery game was the most creative thing ever or not, because he thought it was. 

At the end of this, he knew you much better, and had shown you himself in a way that wouldn’t be possible by answering questions. 

Leon had approached the murder mystery solving game with a calculated and analytical mindset, trained to think strategically, he had diligently assessed every clue, scrutinizing them for hidden meanings and connections. He hadn’t meant to get invested this much, but he had ended up approaching the game like a covert operation and a blast from the past to his police academy days, examining evidence with sharp attention to detail and requiring evidence instead of just a hunch like you kept hitting him with. Each clue was like a piece of intel, and he’d taken the murder of Mrs. Huntington very seriously. Relying on his instincts, leveraging his experience in decoding complex situations to unravel the layers of the mystery, his logical thinking and ability to tackle every single thread of this one by one had brought structure and organization to their investigative process.

In contrast, you had embraced the game with innate curiosity and unlike him, a childlike interest — like a game should be perceived. As an investigative journalist, he’d seen that you had a natural knack for delving deep into stories and uncovering hidden narratives, embarking on the game with a keen eye for the human element, looking beyond the surface level clues to understand the motivations and emotions of the characters involved. You thrived on the adrenaline rush of piecing together the puzzle, always seeking out the next lead or breakthrough, and brainstorming on the possibilities, which clashed with Leon, leading to a sort of bickering that was entertaining, really. Your inquisitive nature and intuition led you to explore alternative perspectives, constantly questioning assumptions and seeking out overlooked details.

When was the last time he’d had this much fun? Leon didn’t remember. 

All that you’d given him that night was a kiss, he hadn’t minded you halting things before the heavy makeout session that had his brain melting like jello could escalate into something more, and he definitely didn’t mind being hypnotized into saying yes for doing this again sometime in the future — when he should have cut things off. 

Leon really couldn’t seem to think coherently around you.

And, despite his better judgment, there was a third time. There also was a fourth. A fifth. A sixth. Seventh. Until he forgot it was a matter of numbers and he simply kept seeing you — that was it. 

Amidst the unlabeled dates that unfolded between you and Leon, there was an undeniable disparity in your cooking styles. While he considered himself a decent cook, you couldn't help but find his dishes lacking in flavor and spice, often describing them as bland. Nonetheless, there was a silver lining to this culinary discrepancy: Leon's competence in the kitchen ensured that all ten of his fingers remained intact, a feat that seemed elusive whenever you attempted to prepare a meal.

Your culinary misadventures had reached a crescendo one fateful day, as Leon returned home to a scene of chaos. The kitchen lay in disarray, food scattered about, a bloody rag, and a knife ominously present. Heart shooting up to his throat, he practically shouted, "Oh my god, what the hell happened?"

It was then that you revealed your mishap, a deep and severe cut that required stitches. Despite the severity of the injury, you had opted not to seek medical attention to avoid the burden of an exorbitant bill. Unbeknownst to you, Leon possessed exceptional suturing skills, honed through the necessity of tending to his own wounds after the hazards of his missions. He hadn't disclosed this fact of course, but rather emphasized his meticulousness when it came to first aid that he’d taken a course on it in the past.

He kept on boomeranging back to you every time he regretted the previous entanglement the morning after, dreading this was bound to end badly and he should leave you alone. He could… He could get sex elsewhere, he was a dog on a leash because stumbling on physical compatibility on this level had made him an idiot, that must have been it, he thought.  

But that wasn’t the issue at all. Nothing had thrown him off and even affected his daily life the way your absence did. It wasn’t craving the skin contact and fantasizing about the next affair that did Leon the damage, it was simply wanting to see you and be by you that even his appetite was lost along the way — he had been scared of what this was. The utter enormity of it made him panic. 

In the depths of his soul, a bubbling longing simmered up and up, getting close to the surface the more he deprived himself of you, taking over him with an intensity that defied description. His heart echoed with the fading echoes of your laughter, a melody he yearned to hear once more and came back to him when he least expected it — in the field he could chase away all thoughts and concentrate, but in the waking moments devoid of action, his thoughts collapsed toward you, unable to escape the gravitational pull of your absence. A hunger, primal and unyielding, gnawed at his core, a hunger for the touch of your hand in his hair, the warmth of your embrace, the nightmare-free, cloud-soft sleeps by your side. He’d come to find solace in fragments of memories, savoring the remnants of your presence, like faded polaroids etched in his mind. It was unbelievable to notice the world around him grew muted and colorless, as if drained of life's vibrancy, each passing day intensifying the ache, searing his heart with an inconsolable longing, fueling he urge he kept resisting to bridge the chasm of his own making that separated him and you. 

Leon had to accept he liked you despite himself, liked you to the point of no return, and that he was afraid to admit the stronger word. 

iii. He couldn’t tell you who he truly was and precisely because of that, couldn’t fully let you in. 

Countless reasons came up to defend why this was for the best — it not only protected his heart but also protected you by keeping you at a certain distance from all of this ridiculous baggage…

And he took notice of you noticing and being accepting regardless, settling for whatever you could when you shouldn’t. 

He was such a selfish man to keep taking advantage of that to stay however he was able to, a hedgehog’s dilemma. 

Leon had managed to find boundaries of your unpredictability and had managed to establish a routine, an ebb and flow of some sorts, entirely dependent on the volatile schedule of his missions that you had no idea of and tried acting nonchalant about — the absences, the bruises, the emotional unavailability after losses he had to keep to himself. He had to be wearing you down, crawling back through the dirt and the blood and the undying monstrosities only to be mute about everything and go straight for your embrace in search of a moment's peace. 

And what about you?   

The part of himself that was still sane knew he was making you suffer because of his selfishness, stringing you along in this unlabeled affair with the excuse it was with your eventual well-being in mind when it was easier for him — in the sense that if it came to the worst, you’d be able to come out of this on top and just hate and keep blaming him so you wouldn’t be hurt in the long run. 

But it was selfish, he still wanted to keep being around you, though, didn’t have the right or face to say he wanted you, so orbiting you was the best he could afford to do. 

Just for a little longer. A bit more. 

Leon wished you would be done with him and tell him to leave you alone so he could finally get out of your life for good, but in all his returns you welcomed him coming back with open arms. It was the garden of Eden and he didn’t belong there, feeling like a pillager sneaking in and getting whatever he wanted and fucking right off afterwards, each and every time leaving you with less and less and a faded viridescence. 

But he couldn’t stay. Not for as long as he wanted. Never in the way you deserved. 

And before Leon knew it, he and you had toppled two years of his bullshit — and you were still here throughout it all.. 

In 2004, the truth of bioterrorism and the existence of monstrous abominations with no regard for human ethics were thrust upon the world, and wiped yet another Raccoon City off from the map of the mediterranean — and things got so much more confusing in regards to what was allowed to be secret or not.

Unbeknownst to you, it was this incident that unknowingly contributed to the growing rift between you. Leon carried the heavy burden of witnessing the President's decision to deny AUPIT’s assistance to the FBC, leaving him as a mere bystander while hundreds of lives were lost due to the incompetence and inexperience of those involved. Even Terrasave, an organization not known for its extraction expertise, fared better in their efforts.

The Terragrigia Panic became a turning point, a catalyst for Leon's introspection, the weight of the world he couldn’t lift one finger to help pressed upon him, driving him towards self-destruction and an ever-deepening spiral of despair, soul scarred by the consequences of inaction and the haunting memories of present lives lost and a past city long in the dust. He questioned the system that bound his hands, preventing him from making the difference he so desperately yearned for. It was during these tumultuous times that you stood by him, unaware of the inner battles he fought and the toll it took on his well-being, and it made him feel so much worse about everything. 

His heart trammeled with the inevitable conclusion he could no longer ignore, he made the painful decision to set you free from the grip of his own shortcomings. Overwhelmed by a sense of unworthiness and consumed by his own greed, he knew he had to release you, unable to bear the weight of his own inadequacy any longer.

The timing, eerily close to the anniversary of the day he first met you, held a bitter irony. It was as if fate had conspired to test the limits of his resolve, presenting him with the most challenging mission of his life just as he made this life-altering choice. Bound for Spain, his path was paved with uncertainty, fraught with danger — but he’d sworn that things would be different this time and he could actually return, reformed and squeaky clean, somehow this mission could be his saving grace and actually wipe his brain clean of grime and rust.

The break-up had loomed before Leon like an impending storm, and he had steeled himself for the emotional turbulence that would surely follow, however, what caught him off guard was the resignation from you, as if you had anticipated his intentions and thoughts, ready to release him with open arms — eager to say yes the moment the words would slip out of his mouth. 

Devastated would be an understatement to describe him — he’d sat frozen on the kitchen chair, his mind a tempest of confusion and disbelief, the composed and scripted nature of your words waterboarding him as you continued to speak, nonchalantly expressing your expectations of this inevitable departure. You seemed braced, almost as if you had been reading his mind, as if you knew this day would come. The nonchalant manner in which you spoke of his leaving, seemingly devoid of any emotional attachment, tore at his heart. It was like time itself had paused, and Leon felt the dissociation creep in, his mind unable to process the scale of what was happening, the world around him blurring, finding himself lost in a void of numbness. How could it be that you were so ready to let him go? How could you speak of no hard feelings when his heart was shattering into countless fragments?

Yeah, right. 

Betrayal was it. 

He’d felt betrayed by you when he had no right to be angry like that — because he had warned you right from the start. 

You know how this ends. 

You’d taken his advice. Leon should have, as well. 

iv. It wasn’t only his jacket that’d got taken away by the village freaks, but also the watch you had given him as a gift — which the loss of was more personal and lethal to him.

And he had no time to look for it between saving and taking care of Ashley and trying to navigate a much bigger conspiracy. 

Coming to terms with the fact that it was gone, just like you, seemed poetically fitting, a form of karma that he should lose a memento of you when he hadn't proven himself deserving of it in the first place.

At the back of his mind was the memory of you trying to act like it wasn’t for anything special when Leon knew it was the first anniversary of the day you and he met, you just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, walking around eggshells around him with the vaguest boundaries and definitions unspelled so he wouldn’t run away — Leon knew all too well. 

He had mentioned going for some type of Casio G-Shock when recounting he’d been meaning to buy a new one, and you’d apparently paid attention to that, not at all questioning why he would want a solar powered watch with 1312 ft. of water resistance — and had given him another much more sporty Longines stainless steel chronograph watch on the side, absolutely humbling him on the spot with just how much money you had to have spent on these two — and the amount of thought you had put into it. 

Modifications on both watches were specifically allowed by him, he'd gotten your initials and the Roman symbols of that day in the fall of 2002 engraved at the back of them to deceive himself, interchangeably using them, the Casio one in the missions, and the Longines in casual days, not bothering to buy any other watch for himself after that. You would see him wearing it all the time, but fortunately for his abashed pride, never commented on it, having no idea just how important they were to him. 

And it was Ada who casually reunited him with it, her throw of the watch certainly gentler than that of the jet ski key’s, as she was walking away with the Amber, a mysterious, knowing glance in his way, a perfectly shaped smile on her glossy lips. “Here. Consider this an equal exchange. Learn to take better care of special things, Leon.”

Somehow she wasn’t just talking about the watch and it irritated him, but she was right. 

v. The depths of Leon's feelings for you were intertwined with an overwhelming sense of terror. 

It terrified him to realize how much he needs you, how your presence has become an integral part of his existence, that you were now the surface he swam up to breathe after hours in the dark of the ocean, and the desire for reciprocation, for you to need him just as deeply, and knowing that you do but unable to bring himself to do anything about it, all filled him with longing and apprehension, both holding hands hiding behind the walls of his own making, pulling each other back as they kept watching you from afar. 

He feared that he may not be enough for you, that his flaws and past were going to inevitably cause harm and ruin.

The emotions that surged through him when you were near, the way his heart raced and his thoughts became consumed — it was new, it was unknown, it was exhilarating, it was petrifying. The spotlight of the vulnerability he’s put in was a double-edged sword, for it exposed him to the potential for joy, but also, immense pain. 

He could lose everything and it would lay waste to his soul, yet in the face of this fear, he couldn’t bear the thought of pushing you away completely, because the terror of being without you somehow had become equally paralyzing that he couldn’t breathe in the PTSD-rooted nightmares of them anymore.

Thus, you had found yourselves trapped in a state of limbo, unsure of where to go or how to proceed, but it was his fault, he thought of himself as a flightless bird sitting up on a roof with you, who could obviously fly; if he attempted to follow you he could fall, if he let you go you would migrate to warmer lands and would never come back. so you were both stuck there, and none of the scenarios involved — what if he could also fly? What if he could do what he thought he wasn’t capable of?

The thought of losing you now, after experiencing the depth of how far he could go with you; the promise, the mirage, the illusion, the dream, was a sense of impending devastation. And yet, he was plagued by the fear that it may already be too late to salvage what he once had with you. What he could have with you, if he allowed himself to surrender — 

Leon had changed, he wasn’t the same person, but he also hadn’t changed, hadn’t lost himself no matter the cost, hadn’t strayed from the original path he was treading on — he was capable of saving people, capable of changing the ending.  

Spain was as traumatizing as it was eye-opening and life-changing, through the reunion with Ada, the betrayal of Major Krauser, the loss of Luis and the successful extraction of Ashley, one single thread of hope had been holding Leon up and running:

He had to get back to you. 

He would come back to you, no matter what, even from the grave, even knowing there was a chance you wouldn’t take him back. To hell with taking comfort in a self-defined ending, to hell with the facade of protecting you when it was just protecting him, to hell with everything. 

This time, it had to be different. 

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

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

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

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

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

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

Present Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t really care.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry about it.”

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

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

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

No.

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again. 

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

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

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

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” Yoongi says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Decent ones?”

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

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

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How are you going home?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I hate you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well. 

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

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads. 

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

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I help you?” The man asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence. 

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

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

“It was,” you smile now. 

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

“Yeah, of course.”

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

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

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

You. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, not really,” you reply. 

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

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

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

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

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

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[l8rs-gat0rs]

Hi, I have an Eva request!

So she was giving reader her first "therapy" session and when asking what her biggest secret she's hiding is, reader is like "the fact i really wish you'd go down on me" 😫🙌🏽

Secret Thoughts

Pairing: Eva x bisexual!reader

ANOOOOOON. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST. I literally can't thank you enough holy shit. I hope you enjoy this :) also shout out to my fellow bisexuals (as well as all the other gays who happen to be attracted to women😌)

Warning(s): smut ofc, this is basically straight porn. y/n use.

Summary: During one of your sessions with Eva, you can't help but spill a secret you didn't think you would. Eva is thrilled to hear it and decides to fulfill your request.

Word count: 1.9k

~~~~~~18+ MINORS DNI~~~~~~

"Ah you came! Come sit down" Eva hugged you before moving to close the doors behind you.

You sat down on the chair that was facing Eva’s and you looked at her, nervous as she sat down.

She wasn't very far away if you were being honest, your leg bounced rapidly as you suppressed the thoughts coming through your head.

She watched you with her piercing blue eyes and a small smirk played at her lips, making you want to shrink into your chair but instead you glanced away, unable to keep eye contact.

"So" you cleared your throat.

"Is this like...therapy?" You asked, glancing back at her.

She let out a small chuckle before answering,

"No, think of this as a bonding experience for the two of us, which should be easy, considering how drawn I feel to you" her slightly hooded eyes seemed to drop down to your lips and you suddenly felt butterflies erupt in your stomach

"Alright, so here's how this is gonna work," Eva started as her eyes shot back up to yours, startling you.

"I'm going to snap, and every time I snap, you're going to say your name. Think of it as a grounding point. And we're going to keep building on that grounding point, so it can be strong. Like you." her eyes dropped to your hands and she brushed her fingertips along them.

you nodded doltishly and she pulled her hand, along with her body, away from yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the contact already.

Eva leaned back in her chair and snapped her fingers.

"What's your name?"

"y/n"

"So y/n, let's start with something simple, why are you here with us?" Eva asked with a low voice.

"As embarrassing as it is, you found me crying on the sidewalk after my boyfriend broke up with me and kicked me out," you said sheepishly.

Her smile slightly faded at the mention of your ex-boyfriend.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Why did he break up with you?"

"Well, he said there was 'someone else'." You did air quotes.

Eva's frown deepened before she went back to a neutral expression and snapped her fingers.

"Name"

"Y/n"

"Have you ever been with anyone other than your ex?"

Curiosity glistened in Eva's eyes as she waited for you to respond.

"Mmm, yeah, there was a girl," you started, watching Eva's face for any reactions.

A smile pulled at her lips and you felt your insides melt.

"We dated for a while but it didn't end up working out, even so, our relationship was better than Derrick and me. I'm thinking of going full lesbian after him." You stated truthfully.

Her eyebrows raised at your confession and she unfolded her hands, bringing her chair a bit forward and closer to you so your knees were almost touching.

You suddenly felt very aware, and you sat up as she settled in her chair, watching-

-No,

Analyzing- you.

You felt your breath Hitch as her eyes slowly seemed to be undressing you.

When her eyes met yours once again, you clenched your jaw, trying to keep your mouth from saying anything crazy, but the weird thing was, you felt like telling Eva everything for some reason.

You were jerked from your thoughts when you heard a snap.

"Name."

Eva's voice was now seemingly lower and a bit husky.

Fire burned through your veins as you opened your mouth to answer her prompt.

"Y/n"

Eva leaned in towards you, you felt yourself slightly go forward as well.

"What's your biggest secret?" She looked at you through hooded eyes, darting between both of yours before they settled on your lips.

She licked her own lips before letting her teeth drag against her lower lip.

It felt like she was torturing you.

The smell of her perfume seemed to surround you and occlude all of your senses, causing your thoughts to be surrounded by haze.

You felt hypnotized by her.

"My biggest secret is I want you to go down on me so bad right now" you breathed out.

Your eyes widened at your own words as soon as they left your mouth. Eva smirked.

"Yeah?" She simply asked.

You felt a jolt in your stomach, you couldn't even explain the hold this woman had over you if you tried.

"Yeah" you simply stated.

"Well, why didn't you tell me baby?" She said, chuckling lowly, her eyes dropped down to her hand as she ran it up your thigh slowly.

You stared at her with your mouth hanging open and her eyes met yours once again.

"Answer me."

"I-I don't know" you said, your chest starting to rise and fall quicker as she used her other hand to slip up your shirt.

"Well I'm glad it's not a secret anymore" she leaned in closer and ghosted her lips over yours

"Eva" you whined.

"Can I tell you a secret?" She asked.

"Yes"

"I've been wanting to hear my name come from your pretty little lips like that since the day I first saw you" she said huskily.

You moaned before smashing your lips into hers.

You felt her hand slip under your bra as she ran her thumb over your hardened nipple.

You moaned into her mouth causing her to chuckle darkly.

"God you're so sexy" you groaned "I want you so bad" and she captured your lips in another heated kiss.

She pulled away from the kiss, taking her hand out from under your shirt before resting her forehead against yours as the two of you panted heavily.

You were surprised as she got up and pushed her chair back. She sat down on her knees, looking up at you.

You could cum at the sight alone.

She spread your legs open and slotted herself in between them, you felt your heart speed up.

She bit her lip and hooked her finger in the waistband of your loose sweatpants.

You lifted your hips up to let her remove them, almost moaning at the sight of how hungry she looked staring at your soaked lace underwear.

"God look at you, so wet for me already that you've ruined your panties" she moaned, licking her lips.

You spread your legs wider, your back slightly arched in the chair as you moaned for her desperately.

"Eva please, I need you" you gasped.

"You're so good for me, keep moaning my name like that" Eva groaned, bending down between your legs.

She pressed her tongue against your clothed center causing pleasure to explode low in your stomach.

Your hand shot into her hair and you grabbed it, pushing her tongue harder against you.

You felt her laugh, which vibrated through your body, causing you to shiver.

She wrapped her mouth around your clit through the thin lace and you moaned loudly as she sucked on it.

"Eva, please holy shit, take them off" you moaned feverishly.

"So impatient angel" she chuckled as she hooked her delicate fingers in the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down when you lifted your hips.

Eva reveled in the sight before her, licking her lips and groaning.

She pulled your hips forward and then held your thighs open as she went back in between your legs to taste you fully this time.

Your jaw dropped open as soon as her tongue made contact and you felt her moan vibrate through your whole body.

She licked your slit up to your clit before pulling back.

You felt your stomach burn with fire as you watched her sit back onto her knees, her hands still on your thighs.

Eva's eyes were closed as she took in the taste of you.

When she opened them her dark blue eyes looked up at you causing you to let out a whine.

"God, you taste so good baby" Eva groaned, licking her lips.

You moaned loudly, bucking your hips towards her.

"Don't worry angel, I haven't had of you enough yet" she smirked before moving in between my thighs again.

You let out a languid moan feeling your walls clench, pumping out more wetness that Eva happily lapped up with a flat tongue against your core.

Your hand made its way into her hair once again as she stuck her tongue inside you.

"Holy fucking shit" you moaned out, chest heaving as Eva ate you out like she was starving.

She moaned into your core as she felt your walls clench.

The room was filled with obscene wet noises harmonizing with both of your moans.

You bucked your hips into her face when her nose brushed against your clit.

As you peeled your eyes away from Eva in between your legs you noticed her hand moving slightly.

"Oh- my God, Eva are you touching yourself?" Her eyes opened as she looked up at you, but didn't stop the rapid movements of her tongue against you.

You saw her hand speed up as her eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh, you're fingering yourself" you gasped out.

Her eyes closed again as she let out a moan against you causing your stomach to tighten as you shuddered.

"Fuck you're so hot" you panted rapidly "I think I'm gonna cum."

She took her mouth away from your soaked center and looked up at you, her lips and nose glistening with your wetness. It was a filthy sight.

"I'm gonna cum too" she moved her hand inside her pants at a now, medium pace.

Before you could say anything, she took her hand out of her pants, her wetness still coating her fingers, she pushed them inside you and separated them, causing you to feel a wonderful stretch.

"Oh fuck fuck fuck" you groaned as Eva watched your core, your walls squeezing her fingers.

She snaked her other hand into her pants once again.

Her eyes met yours and she started pushing her fingers inside you at the same pace as hers.

"Don't cum until I say so" she moaned breathily.

"Yes" you choked out.

She added a third finger inside of you and your chest tightened once again, waves of pleasure taking over your body.

"Eva" you moaned out her name, signaling your release was close.

"Come on baby, hold it in, I'm almost there" she husked out.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly and you gripped onto the back of the chair, throwing your head back as you moaned loudly.

She was knuckles deep in you, thrusting her fingers faster, and the feeling was sending you to heaven.

"Alright, you can cum for me angel" Eva groaned.

You arched off the seat and your eyes rolled back as your legs shook with the power of your orgasm.

Eva let out a languid moan, reaching her climax at the same time.

She took her fingers out of both of you before watching your cum spill out causing her to let out an almost pornographic moan.

She sat back on her legs as she huffed, catching her breath and waiting for you to come down as well.

"So, how do you feel?" She breathed out as you looked back down at her.

"What do you mean? I feel so good, that was amazing" your eyes widened.

She giggled a little before elaborating.

"No silly, I mean do you feel connected to me now that we've cum together?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Ohhhh!" You nodded,

"Yeah I guess I do"  almost losing your train of thought as you watched her stick the fingers that were just inside you, into her mouth.

She removed them with an audible pop.

"How about we revisit this thought next session?" She smirked up at you.

[mitsuyaya]

[ picking up the kids ] okkotsu yuuta ft. okkotsu twins

contains: 500 words. fluff, reader and yuuta are married, unedited (I'll edit it in the morning hopefully)

end note: i just love bullying twindad! yuuta sm <3 i got this idea from a reel i found and i just thought it's twindad yuuta coded hehe

jjk masterlist

It was your idea he'd like to emphasize on that.

This whole thing and the scenario unfolding now was solely your idea of a prank that had gotten way out of hand. A test of some sort that reveals the duality of the twins whenever they're with you and when they're with him.

But because of this prank or this failed test of some sort, he has been labeled as the worst father ever because he's been trying for minutes to calm down your twins who're throwing a tantrum in the school's parking lot.

It all started as nothing more than a suggestion, you pointing out that yuuta has never picked up the twins ever since they started preschool. He reasoned it was because he was busy with his job that's why he never has time to do it. And for that, you told him that this time, since it's his free day, he should be the one to take the kids home.

Yuuta was reluctant at first, because knowing the relationship he has with the twins, he thinks that this would end badly but you brushed it off and told him that he's overthinking it, and you would just be hidden at the farthest side of the car so the twins wouldn't see.

So that's the reason why he's here now, troubled, wanting to cry as well and so close to having a meltdown.

The older twin is stomping his feet while calling out your name, followed by a loud wail of ‘I don't want papa, I want mama’ that earned him a side eye from a lot of strangers. Really, if he were one of them he would do that too.

The youngest, who's not faring well, has been crying non stop ever since and has been clinging onto the front door of the car, trying to find if his mother is hiding inside. What's even worse is that he's literally red from crying so much, Yuuta's afraid that if he keeps on any longer he'd faint.

“B-baby please stop crying” he tries to plead with his son, patting his shoulders so he would stop but, as if the universe had already planned on making him miserable, his youngest just had to cry so loudly.

Yuuta's just about to reach his limit when you finally end this prank or test or whatever plan this is. Stepping out of the car you called out to the twins and they rushed into your arms.

“I’m sorry, mama’s here stop crying okay?” you patted their backs and watched as they hiccup to give you an answer. Really, they're too much of a mama's boy, it reminds you of a certain someone.

Speaking of, your husband, who had discreetly found his way into hugging you from the back, whispered: “Let’s never do this again, I feel like I lost 10 years of my life from that.”

Certainly, but if this is the reaction you'd get every time, then you can't promise anything.

[wordsofhoneydew]

fic rec time!! lfg

here i compiled a list of 11 amazing fics under 500 kudos!! you have angst, smut, fluff, pinging, grief, hurt/comfort. you fucking name it, it’s here.

happy reading!

Invisible by @nocoastposts [100, G]

For the Brownstone Discord Server's weekly drabble prompt "invisible".

Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites [1k, T]

Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here.

“And if you only hold me tight…”

A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.

Be Mine (And Be Yourself) by @itsmaybitheway [9k, E]

It starts with a misunderstanding, the way it always does with them.

Early on in their relationship, when there wasn’t even a relationship to speak of, the misunderstandings used to feed the animosity.

Then they’ve turned into something softer when their relationship turned into something softer. Purposefully misunderstanding each other just to take a jab, messing around for the fun of it or turning an innocent comment into a filthy innuendo and watching the other squirm.

But this? Oh a misunderstanding has never been this delicious, this appetizing. This one feels like the door to fucking sexy Narnia and Alex can not wait to eat those delicious Turkish delights

OR Henry just wants to be Alex's pretty little princess and Alex will make sure he gets his wish! AKA my Valentine's Day fic with housewife!Henry

it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by @anincompletelist [6k, M]

His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

the tragic flaw is that they hide the truth (that you’re enough, you’re enough) by srrafoxjournals [6k, NR]

Alex has been staring.

For weeks now, actually.

Henry had originally chalked it up to Alex being, well, Alex. But lately, Henry can’t help but take it in as more than just his boyfriend's usual oddness.

Or: After gaining some weight, Henry feels self conscious. Alex however, loves his tummy.

blurred lines. by seafloor [5k, E]

Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.

I will/I will/We will by @tintagel-or-cockleshells [6k, T]

Alex's wedding planning business is going from strength to strength, but if he never has another wedding at Mountchristen Manor it will be too soon. He just can't get along with Henry, the venue coordinator, and the feeling is mutual. But when push comes to shove, the couple's big day has to come first.

I’ll be with him again soon by mymistakesweremade4u [3k, T]

It's sometime in mid-January, just a couple of months shy of his 95th birthday, when Henry finds himself surrounded by family in his and Alex's bedroom.

Or, Alex and Henry grew old together.

beg you on my knees (to stay) by @littlemisskittentoes [13k, E]

“Up.” Henry keeps the tone low. Controlled.

Alex is often frantic to follow commands, his limbs falling over themselves in his haste to obey. There’s no sign of that rushed need now. He takes his time, unfolding himself leisurely.

“You’re bold,” Henry monotones. He takes calculated steps forward, punctuating each slow stride with the unbutton and roll of his shirt sleeves. “I’ll give you that.”

“You’re only now realizing? Thought you were brighter than that, baby.”

keep me up all night / i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n [1k, M]

They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges.

Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything.

Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb.

“Get on the couch.”

don’t let me get drunk again by @getmehighonmagic [3k, E]

Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass.

Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.