#adam letting himself fall into an embrace when he’s So Tired
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wish we lived in a universe where mstief let the boys hug more
#imagine how she would write that!!!#anxious gansey being wrapped up in ronan#gansey putting his arms around adam when they make up after fights#noah always hugging from behind to say hi#adam letting himself fall into an embrace when he’s So Tired#like that’s all#imagine the scenes :(#trc#the raven cycle#gansey#ronan lynch#adam parrish#noah czerny#the raven boys#maggie stiefvater#rodansey#the gangsey#!!!!!!!!!!
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Date Nights - Aizawa Shouta
From the Date Night Series - Tagging @alienaiver
Edit: You need to have this visual while reading
1.
“Are you ready to go?”
Shouta looks up from his desk. He’d been so close to resting his head on it, to giving his tired eyes some much-needed rest.
Your smile is warm and inviting. And it makes something tingle in the back of his brain, something he’d been trying to remember all week.
“Oh no,” he groans softly, “I forgot our date.”
Your smile doesn’t falter.
“I heard about your day from Hizashi,” your voice does not carry any resentment yet his heart is thundering in his chest.
God, he’d been so anxious about it, had been pondering where to go and what to do for hours, how could he forget?
“Let me just get a coffee real quick and we’ll be good to go,” Shouta insists. He’ll also need at least five minutes in a bathroom and a spare change of clothes. He knows he looks more like a homeless person than anything else right now and he probably smells like it too.
“No need,” you wave him off. His heart stutters to a halt.
Please don’t cancel, Shouta thinks, just as you reach out and take his hand. Your fingers are warm against his own cold ones, bad circulation be damned.
“I asked you out, so of course I planned the date. Come on, we don’t want to miss anything.”
“But coffee-” He manages, his heart pitter-pattering away as he follows you down the hallways of the school.
They are deserted, thankfully. As much as he loves the feel of your hand in his, he couldn’t bear it if anyone saw.
Your car is a lime-green monstrosity. You smile sheepishly when he stares at it.
“I like bright colors,” you shrug, “And I’ve never lost my car in a car park since I’ve bought it.”
He can’t argue against that. The seats are soft and he can feel himself slipping, almost falling asleep against the window. When he jerks away, adamant to at least look awake if he’s not looking like much else, he finds your hand resting on his knee. His mouth runs dry. Can he? Is he supposed to?
He puts his hand on yours and you turn to smile at him before looking back at the road.
It’s a quiet ride. Somewhere in the organized chaos of his brain, he jots down that you don’t listen to music while you drive. It’s a welcome change from sharing rides with Hizashi.
“We’re here.” You park in front of an apartment complex. “Come on up.”
Your keys jingle in your hand as you walk in front of him, up the stairs and down a hallway. You open the door that has your name on it.
His heart thunders traitorously. Did you bring him to your place for your first date? Why?
His mouth won’t let him form words, so he follows you silently, his mind racing ahead.
It’s only when he’s slipped out of his shoes and pulled on the bunny slippers you’ve placed for him, that he makes sene of what’s going on.
In the middle of your living room is a fort of pillows and blankets, big enough to house All Might in his muscle form if he wanted to.
Shouta stops and stares. You do flourish your arms. “Tada! Do you want something to drink first? I thought it was a good idea because you honestly always look like you don’t get enough rest and it’s important to take care of each other’s needs in a relationship and I asked you out so-”
It’s the first time he’s heard you rambling today and the familiar sound soothes his nerves a little. At least you’re nervous too.
He steps forward, boldened by your own actions, and kisses you.
You sink into it right away, arms thrown around him to pull him even closer.
When you pull back first, he can’t help but chase after you, to sink further into your embrace as you giggle with your face pressed against his neck.
“I’ll make you something to drink, okay?” You whisper, face still hidden away. “Make yourself comfortable.”
He wakes up hours later, throat perched, head in your lap.
You’re reading something on a tablet, one hand free to drag itself through his hair in a motion that could put him back to sleep again.
“So, about a second date…” You ask when you stop at his place in the morning so that he can get a fresh set of clothes before work. You’re not looking at him but your hands are squeezing the steering wheel, telling him how nervous you are.
He leans over and kisses you, pouring all his feelings into the gesture.
“There’s a bookstore in my neighborhood,” he offers, “We could go there after school. Today shouldn’t be as draining and even if, I want to go with you.”
Your smile could light up the world. It certainly lights up his.
-
2.
“Ready to go?” Shouta’s patting himself down as he asks. He’s got his keyes, his pain medication, his phone is fully charged and his wallet’s there too.
You’re still on the Couch, petting Muffin. The old tabby is purring so loud he can hear it from the entryway.
“For what?” You ask, a little distracted by Muffin trying to chew on your fingertips.
“We’ve got a Date, honey. Why did you think Deku picked up Eri?”
“Because he wants to spend time with her?” You pull Muffin from your lap and deposit her on a pillow, kissing her head when she mews.
You yawn as you walk over, don’t cover your mouth in favor of brushing the pet hair from your legs.
“What kind of date?” You ask as you pull close and kiss him, snuggle into his embrace.
“There’s this new Bookshop a few blocks down. I walked past it a few times when I went to the park with Eri and it looked promising.”
“Really?” You furrow your brows. “How do I not know about it? I’ve never seen one when I go to the park with her.”
“That’s because we take a different route. More cats, less foot traffic.” He kisses your cheek and pushes you toward the bedroom.
“Five minutes, you need a different sweater. I won’t go out with you looking like this.”
You stick your tongue out at him, but comply.
When you come back, he can’t help the laugh bubbling in his throat. You’re wearing a Ganriki Neko sweater in purple and turquoise over a purple skirt and turquoise tights, an outfit he’s seen last at one of Hizashi’s costume parties.
“How do I look?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Like I need sunglasses to take you in,” He jokes.
The walk to the bookstore is short and quiet. You’ve been distracted lately,
Maybe it’s the new Class you’ve got or Eri’s recurring nightmares, but he’d been planning a date like this for a while now. Taking a break just hasn’t gotten easier now that they’re parents.
“Pspsps,” He leans down to feed a snack to the little black kitten that Eri has fallen in love with. It’s well groomed and clearly belongs to someone, but it loves coming over to say hi.
-
“I’ll get us some drinks,” Shouta declares the moment you step into the store. It’s lovely, not entirely rebuilt, but rather renovated, giving the old, darkened wood some new life.
You nod and wander around, peeking at the shelves in search of something that tickles your interest. He finds you in the non-fiction aisle not much later, deeply invested in a cookbook.
“This has everything,” you explain. “How to eat during your pregnancy or if you want to increase the chances as well as how to feed children of different ages.”
“Okay? How are the recipes though? We’ve got plenty of cookbooks at home we don’t use.”
“True,” you grumble. It’s your least favorite thing about him, how he tends to stop you from impulse buying. He offers you your drink before you can dwell on that any longer.
“For you, sugar with a side of coffee.”
“Har Har.” You mock laugh before taking a sip of the concoction, furrowing your brows a little. “It tastes a little off,” you claim. “Did you ask for something from the menu?”
“No, I gave them your special recipe. Sorry, do you want something different?”
“No, it’s fine. They probably made it for the first time this way.” You take another sip and your brows relax. “I’m just a little weird today.”
“I’m a little weird everyday,” he offers and you lean into him, heavy, warm and familiar.
“Let’s take a look around, shall we?” He grabs your free hand with his, swings them around as he pulls you forward. There’s plenty to see and soon enough, his arms grow loaded with books. The newest edition of the manga Hitoshi reads, a signed biography of a Hero Hizashi’s still very enthusiastic about, bookmarks and a little Neko Nightlight for Eri, the list goes on.
“I need to sit down for a bit,” Shouta exclaims when you turn back towards the non-fiction again. “You can find me at the children’s books.”
“Okay.” You get on your tiptoes and kiss his stubble. “I won’t take long.”
-
Shouta’s halfway through a book about a little mole looking for a home when you come back. He’s accustomed to the sound of your footsteps, even if they come a little more hesitant, like now.
You’ve got one book in your arms, the title hidden as it’s pressed against your stomach.
There’s a shy smile on your face as you turn it around to show him the cover.
“How to be Pregnant for Dummies.”
He reads it and reads it again. The news take a moment to seep into his brain but when it does, he almost takes down the book display with how fast he jumps from his seat.
“No way!”
“SHHH!” Someone shushes him from the front. Shouta doesn’t care.
You’re smiling, eyes a little teary.
“Since when do you know?”
“I got the results today, but I missed my period so I’ve had a hunch for a week or so. It’s still pretty early.” You giggle when he peppers kisses all over your face, making it almost impossible for you to keep talking.
“Sorry, I was a little bit in my head the last few days.”
“It’s okay. It’s big news.”
“Hm. How do we tell Eri? And Hitoshi? And-”
Shouta turns around and pulls a book from the pile he wants to buy.
“Little Neko got a sibling?” You ask, a little dumbfounded. “How did you know?”
His smile is a little sheepish. He can never lie to you.
“I didn’t. But the Neko was cute.”
You laugh at that, pull him closer. It reminds him of their first second date.
Of cuddling in a corner at the bookstore, away from prying eyes.
Some things will never change, even with a metal leg and a new life on the way.
-
“Where do you wanna go next?” He asks when the books are paid for, hanging off his right arm as you lean onto his left.
You blink up at him, eyes still a little red-rimmed from all the happy tears.
“When’s Eri coming home?”
“Two hours, maybe. Do you wanna go home and cuddle?”
You ponder that for a second, your hands warm on his.
“Let’s get ice cream,” you decide, a wide smile on your face. “And when we get back, we can make a fort!”
Shouta pulls you close, presses a kiss onto the top of your head.
“I love you.”
“Mhm,” You grin up at him. “I love you more.”
My Kofi if you want to tip me
#my writing#my hero academia#my hero academia fluff#mha fluff#mha x reader#aizawa x reader#aizawa fluff#aizawa and eri#dad!zawa#aizawa shouta
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✩ for the blurb requests; jake and ace, date night, cuddling on the couch, eating take out and just being with each other, maybe falling asleep in each others arms
—DATE NIGHT
frat!jake seresin x f!reader
wc: 494
warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace),
catch up with jake and ace here!
»»————- ♠︎ ————-««
As extravagant as Jake could get with date night, he knew that you also loved a casual night in.
Take-out, a movie or two, and your pajamas was all you wanted as long as it was in the company of your boyfriend.
When Jake saw just how exhausted you were after your last round of classes for the day, he knew that a night in was exactly what you needed.
“I am so full right now,” Jake sighs as he sinks further into the leather cushions of your couch.
You scoff, following suit. “I have never seen someone devour so many crab wontons at once.”
Jake laughs, nudging you gently in the side. “You’re one to talk. One second I was grabbing some chow mein, the next the entire box was empty!”
Joining in on his laughter, you slide underneath his arm and muzzle into his side. With a tight arm holding you in place.
He feels your body get a little heavier in his arms and he looks down to see your eyes already fluttering shut. Jake traces a finger lightly down the bridge of your nose. You scrunch your nose in that adorable way that he loves and he presses a kiss to your head with a heart full of love.
You intertwine your fingers with his that lay gently on your belly.
“I thought you wanted to watch that new true crime documentary,” he comments.
You shake your head. “Too tired.”
“Alright, sleepy head, let’s get you to bed.” Jake tries to get up but your arms squeeze tighter around his waist.
“No, stay,” you whine. In any other circumstance you would’ve felt pathetic. But your boyfriend was just too comfortable and warm that you didn’t want him to move.
Jake settles back into his position, hesitantly. “Bob and Mickey are gonna kill me if they find me asleep here.”
“Oh, please, they let Javy sleepover all the time.”
“You sure?”
“Promise. Now shhh… I’m trying to sleep,” you mumble into the skin of his neck.
A hushed chuckle leaves Jake’s lips as he gives you a soft peck on the forehead. “Love you, Ace.”
You sigh happily in his embrace. “Love you more, Seresin.”
Jake waits until he feels your breath even out before finally closing his eyes. He could never fall asleep before you, always one to make sure you were safe and sound first.
“Not possible,” he finally whispers into the night.
Had you been awake to hear him, he knows you’d argue with him until your throat goes dry. Jake finds it endearing how adamant you are that you love him more. You could argue all day about it. He doesn’t doubt that you love him, he just thinks there’s no way you could love him more than he loves you—his perfect girl.
Knowing he got the last word in your playful little argument, though unfairly, Jake finally allows himself to drift off into a restful sleep.
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#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you#hangman x reader#hangman x f!reader#hangman x y/n#hangman x you#college!au#frat!jake seresin x reader#hangman x ace 📚#loving you universe#demxters writing
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My Endless Distraction - Nicholas Ruffilo/Noah Sebastian/OFC
Paring: Noah x Nicholas x OFC
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 1.1k
Note: Listen I am just the messenger. I can't stop these poly brainworms. If you find punctuation mistakes no you didn't.
Nick finds them on the sofa. He doesn’t get to see them like this often, there’s still something hesitant about Noah. But Nick thinks that it’s less shame and more insecurity. He knows that the younger is still struggling with accepting how he feels. It’s new for all of them, but he knows Noah well enough to know that it might take him a little longer to really come to terms with it.
Noah has his head in her lap and from what he can tell he’s fast asleep. An even rarer sight.
He watches them from the door for a moment. Her hand is carding through his hair, and occasionally her fingers drift across the skin at his temples. It’s such an intimate moment that Nick can hardly convince himself to disrupt them.
She does notice him eventually. She waves him over. Gently as he can manage, Nick manoeuvres himself under Noah’s long limbs. He grumbles a little but otherwise gives little effort to move himself.
“How was your day?” She asks, reaching out of Nick's hand with the one that isn’t tangled into Noah’s hair.
“Busy. Good kind.” He gives her hand a squeeze, “What did you two get up to?”
“We tried to watch Evangelion.” She draws her hand across his cheek, “I don’t think he’s sleeping much at the moment."
Nick has heard the younger roaming around the house in the depths of night for a few nights in a row now. He knows that Noah sometimes struggles with falling asleep, but this is a lot even for him.
They’re silent for a while, and Nick just allows himself to watch Noah and her. Sometimes he thinks that it’s easier for Noah to pretend that he’s just with one of them. It should make him feel bad, but he understands the turmoil that must fill his waking thoughts. He’s been there too, but he had her bounce his fears off of. Noah isn’t as willing to part with his inner monologues.
Speak of the devil the younger stirs and stretches his tired limbs further across Nick's lap.
They’re in suspension for a moment before Noah realises that it’s not just the two of them anymore. He doesn’t immediately remove himself from Nick's lap and instead sinks a little deeper into her embrace.
“When did you come back?”
“Just now.” Nick gives his calf a squeeze, “Didn’t miss much.”
Noah turns onto his back and properly stretches across their bodies. It’s a miracle that he even fits on the sofa, considering how tall he is.
“You two eat yet?”
The smirk that plasters itself across Noah’s face tells him that he’s at least eaten something. Nick smacks his thigh, “Something real.”
She shakes her head before Noah can dig himself even deeper into that hole, “Thought we could order something in?”
Noah finally, albeit reluctantly, sits up but remains pressed to her side as if he’s glued to her. Nick gets it. There are very few places he’d rather be.
They order enough to share among the three of them. Noah’s fork will find its way to their plates anyway, and she’s always adamant that she doesn’t want fries, but always ends up stealing Nicks. And so he orders a bit of everything, even the bits they don’t think about. No one’s going to tell Nick that he isn’t considerate.
She’s perched on the counter in front of Noah when he comes back into the kitchen with the bags.
“I just don’t know why you always assume the worst. I really hope that neither Nick nor I have ever given you the feeling that this isn’t serious.”
He pauses just before the last corner.
“No — it’s not that —" he pauses for a moment, “It’s just — if this goes bad, I don’t just lose one of you.”
“Then we don’t let it go bad.” Nick can almost see the soft expression on her face, “But you need to talk to us for that. This can’t work if we don’t talk to each other. Right, Nick?”
He’s sure the damned woman has some kind of sixth sense.
Noah lets out a laugh at that.
And when Nick rounds that last corner, he finds him with his head dropped to her shoulder, his own still shaking with silent laughter.
"You know that he tries that all the time, right?" Noah says, picking himself up again, "He thinks he's sneaky like that, but you can hear him from a mile away."
Nick wants to protest, but he knows it's true. And truth be told, seeing them gang up on him makes him feel all warm inside.
"Terrible liar too." she digs, throwing him wink "But to get back to it. If we want this to work, and I wholeheartedly want it to work, we need to talk. This hush hush stuff doesn't work." she looks directly at Noah then, who shrinks into himself just a little "I know it's comfortable, but it won't do us any good in the long run."
Nick sets the bags down on the table in the middle of the room.
"I think we can all work on that." he says with his back still turned to the pair of them, "Expectations, limits and all that."
He hears her hop off the counter, "I think we should have had that talk before you ganged up on me like that. Don't get me wrong, that was fun, but --"
"That should have been a conversation." Nick agrees, "Are we good to have that talk now?"
There'll be some uncomfortable things, he's well aware of that, but he'd rather have it out of the way and talked about than shelved for yet another day.
Noah is the first one to give his yes, and she follows shortly after.
And so there's some back and forth over dinner. They agree that it's easiest if Noah stays with them for the time being, he's between places anyway and one commute less can only make things less complicated. Noah doesn't feel quite ready to dive into things with Nick, but he wants to try, and that's enough for him. Things involving her are fine, Nick supposes it's easier for the younger because he's used to girls and everything else is so painfully new. But he's glad that it's not off the table entirely. All in all the conversation is less tense than he'd anticipated, and his shoulders feel, to his surprise, a lot lighter once they return to the living room.
He's sure that he won't remember a bit of whatever they're watching, but it matters little when he gets to spend the evening with the two of them. He's seen all of Evangelion often enough. But every little step they take here is new, and he'd rather watch them than the images that flicker across the screen.
Nick tries not to make it known that he noticed the tattooed hand that slithers up his leg and finds a hesitant home against his calf, out of fear that he'll flee like a spooked bird.
He's trying, he instead repeats in his mind, that's good enough.
#nick ruffilo x noah sebastian x ofc#noah sebastian x nick ruffilo x ofc#bad omens fanfic#bad omens fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo fanfic#nicholas ruffilo fic#noah sebastian fanfiction#noah sebastian fanfic#fic: to know you’re mine
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Field of Tulips - one
Synopsis - You’re Special Sargent Dunn, having been off on medical leave for quite some time Captain Price has someone he’d like you to meet. He wants you back in the field.
Master page - please read all content warnings on this page before proceeding.
- - - -
There it was again, that familiar sound that pulled you from your sleep. Night after night. The strangled cries of your teammates as the plane fell to the ground. The sheer terror on their faces as they knew this was it, the sweet embrace of death. Martinez clutched his family photo. Adam’s said a silent prayer. Smith let a tear fall from his umber eyes.
The pilot shot dead, the engines blown to shit, the orange glow of flames lit up the night sky.
But you? You accepted your fate. In fact your welcomed it. What did you have to live for? No family. No significant other. No friends. You sat with a disturbingly calm expression on your face. You pulled Adam’s into your chest as he sobbed.
You woke up at the same point in the dream.
Every fucking time.
Shooting upright in bed sweat adorned your skin, the bed sheets sodden with a mixture of tears and sweat. As you tried to catch your breath, a snore from next to you broke you from the dangerous hold the images in your head held you in.
Fuck.
That’s right. James. Your fuck buddy. Or was he a form of self-harm? Impulsive promiscuous sex to make you feel better Though you’re pretty sure he thought it was more. Shoving him awake he met your gaze. Confused. ‘Out’ you demanded. No warmth in your tone in the slightest. He rubbed his eyes ‘what?’
‘You fucking heard me. Out. Get your shit and go.’
‘It’s nearly 4 am?!’
‘Sounds like a you problem. Get the fuck out.’
Rolling over he muttered under his breath. Feeling rage burst within you, you clambered over the bed and pushed him. ‘What the fuck did you say?!’ You face was screwed tight with pure anger, resentment even. Grabbing your wrists he pinned you to the bed, ‘I said you’re a crazy fucking bitch. No wonder no one wants you’ he spat. He gripped you tightly as he lowered himself to your face, his voice low and harsh. ‘Maybe it would have been better if you died in that crash. No one would miss you.’
Standing up he released you, his dull foot steps marched from the bedroom to the living room. Just as soon as he’d shut your apartment door a glass smashed against it. Meant for his head. Oops. ‘Fucking prick!’ You yelled, expelling all oxygen from your tired lungs.
You could feel the tightness in your chest slowly take hold of you. Your heart rate increased by the millisecond as a thick haze descended over your body. Running to the freezer you grabbed an ice block and placed it in your hands, a feeble attempt at grounding.
But the thoughts wouldn’t stop.
He’s right … you should have died … you shouldn’t be here … everyone else had families … yet you survived … pathetic … look at you … disgusting … no wonder no one loves you … you’re a shitty person …
Over and over and over. You tried to breathe. Tried to distract yourself to little avail. The ice block stung your clammy skin, burnt your veins as desperately tried to think of a field of tulips. Your safe image. An image of a happier time when you were a child, before everything went to shit.
After what seemed like an eternity you chest opened up, releasing itself from the clutches of anxiety. Slowly you dropped the ice block into the sink, it fell with a thud onto the beaten up metal. Bent over the sink you looked up into the clear sky through your window. The moon was full, it shone through your blinds casting a shadow in the kitchen. The night always seemed more calm than the day, but it always gave room for over thinking.
Over analysing.
Analysing everyone of their faces as the plane fell. It had been a year. A year on medical leave, a year of going to psychology appointments. A year of lying through your teeth so you could get back to work. A year of living, unrelenting hell.
The blue hue from an advertisement board cast a calm but dim light against the wall of your apartment. The latest skin care you had to have. To stop you aging. The usual capitalist bullshit. It cast thick shadows into the room, fighting against the moon. The shadows danced in your living room, shimmering a long the neglected dusty surfaces.
You weren’t sure how long you’d been stood at the sink, that happened a lot. Slots of time that you couldn’t recall, ending up in places you couldn’t remember getting to. Your phone buzzed to life in the bedroom, taking in a deep breath you walked over to see it was Price. Fuck did he want at 5am.
Reluctantly picking up the phone you pressed it to your ear. ‘Hello?’
‘Hey kid, sorry it’s so early’ his voice was calm and warm, serene even. ‘No, no it’s fine. I was up anyway.’
‘Dreams again?’ He pressed, concern laced in his voice. ‘No I was up anyway.’ Liar.
‘Hmm ok, well come to base for 10am, I want you to meet someone. We want you back kid.’ A small smile tugged at your lips, finally. ‘I’ll be there sir.’
‘Good, lookin’ forward to seeing you.’
With that he hung up the phone, you knew he could read you like a book. He was the closest thing you had a to a father. You’d served under Captain Price many times, forming a close bond with him. No one had had your back like he did after the accident, he’s the only reason you weren’t honourably discharged. Taking a deep breath you meandered your way to the shower, anticipation bubbled in your stomach.
- - - -
Walking down the clinical corridors your boots squeaked with every step. Whispers and murmurs from fellow soldiers and personnel who recognised you. You kept your head down, eyes to the floor, wanting the earth to swallow you whole. While you wanted to come back, you couldn’t be bothered with the shit that came with it.
As you approached Captain Price’s door you heard loud but muffled voices. One Price, the other you didn’t recognise. A string Scottish accent met your ears, his voice was deep and gruff. The voice of someone who demanded respect, but, they’d have to earn that from you. You weren’t about to roll over saying ‘yes sir’ to anyone.
‘… you’re mad Price. She ain’t ready, not even close. I’m not having her on my team.’
You heard Price sigh, ‘Soap you’re havin her. She needs to come back. She’s a damn good sergeant. She’d be an asset to your team and you know it.’
Soap? Not someone you’d heard of before. Either way he was gonna get an earful from you, who does he think he is? He doesn’t even know you. Prick.
‘She may be good at her job sir, but she’s damaged goods.’
That was enough to make you see red, but, you’d always promised Price you’d always try and keep calm. Your mouth had gotten you into trouble on multiple occasions. Pushing the door open you entered his office. The familiar smell of cigars and cedar wood filled the air, it smelt like home. Prices eyes widened, knowing you’d heard everything, he looked tense. Clearly wondering if you were about to chew Soaps ear off.
Looking over to Soap sweetly you offered him a warm smile and held out your hand. ‘Special Sargent Dunn, sniper and demolitions. Or, I guess my preferred name, damaged goods.’ Soap took your hand firmly and shook it. He was tall, easily 6’2, bulky stature, the most captivating azure eyes you’d ever seen and a very distinctive Mohawk. He chewed his cheek as he watched you take a seat.
As he opened his mouth you raised a hand, silencing him. ‘No need to apologise sir. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. Easily done, wouldn’t you agree?’ Price struggled to hide a smirk as you eyed up the Captain. He was pretty sure he saw him take a small step back. Soap flashed a look to Price who merely shrugged, leaving him to fight his way out of the grave he’d dug himself.
‘Aye. Just a misunderstanding.’ He eyed you cautiously, unsure of what to make of you. Clearly headstrong and someone who wouldn’t take any shit. Something Soap felt he could work with, you’d be able to handle your own well. He just needed to make sure you didn’t lose your head. Nodding, you have him another sickly sweet smile, borderline psychopathic. ‘Good. Glad to hear it. Now, what am I helping you with sir?’
Soap looked down at the floor and took in a deep breath, his huge shoulders rising and falling. ‘Gotten wind of one of the most dangerous terrorists known to date. Putting together a team to track him down. You bein one of ‘em. Price speaks very highly of yah.’
You glanced over at Price who was sat behind his desk, watching you both intently, ready to break you up at any second.
‘Oh he does, does he?’ You say smiling at Price, you shifted in the chair, crossing your leg. ‘And what do you think of my record sir?’ Soap wasn’t overly used to being pinned like this, but he knew you had him in a vice courtesy of the comment he made. ‘Top in your class for sniping, impeccable skill and kill count. Not to mention your efficiency with demolitions. You’d fit in nicely.’
‘Hmm. Well, as long as you think so.’ You stoop up and brushed off your trousers. ‘Captain, you can count me in. It’s been a pleasure.’
As you turned to leave Soap coughed, grabbing your attention. ‘Training starts Monday. Just a refresh, you’ve been off for a while. Block B. 8am. Got it?’
You nodded ‘McTavish.’
‘Dunn.’
- - - -
If you want to be added to a tag list let me know
#call of duty#soap mctavish x reader#Captain McTavish#john soap mctavish x you#john soap mctavish x reader#johnny mctavish x reader#soap mctavish x you#johnny mctavish#slow burn#09 soap
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Hello darling, happy Hanukkah! Would you maybe want to write something to do with... boots. Snowy, mud-covered, detailed with little stars, the world's your latkes. Or, if not: doorway? Windowsill. I don't know why they're all things in my immediate view. Erm... late to an appointment. Antlers!
Darling I just love you very much okay whatever you write at any time is the perfect thing. This whacky prompt or not, you're bringing us all so much light.
Robinnnnn oh my sweetest love I absolutely positively adore you. Thank you for the prompt, and also for being in my life, and for being the absolute best. Here's something sweet and cozy just for you. @rockingrobin69
Here's to Us
Two pairs of worn boots are drying on a towel next to the door. Draco insists that drying charms ruin the faux dragon hide, and Harry refuses to spend money on a boot-drying rack, so this is their compromise. It also secretly makes Draco a little oddly giddy when he sees them; even their shoes belong together.
The two of them lying in front of the fire, listening to the crackling flames and the howling wind against the windowsill. Draco is grateful for Harry's strong sticking charms; the screen door of their little cabin had flown open with the force of the wind and thumped loudly against the wall over and over. Now, it stays tight against the entrance, another shield against the raging storm.
Their legs are tangled together under thick blankets and Draco's body is heavy and warm against Harry. He's trying to be careful, though, not to knock over the wine glass next to him. He hopes Harry is similarly cautious; the rug they're lying on was pricey.
He's just about to fall asleep when he feels Harry's gruff whisper. "I wish we could stay here forever."
Draco's eyes open and his heart breaks, just a little, even as it swells a bit at 'we;' the novelty of being a 'we' still hasn't worn off, even a year into marriage.
He doesn't know how to respond, exactly, but he's learning he doesn't have to fill every silence; doesn't always have to have the answers. So instead, he makes a small sound that he hopes Harry interprets as Tell me more. I want to hear you.
Luckily, Harry continues. "I want don't want to go back. I don't want to go to work, or see him." Him, Draco knows, is Robards, the overbearing asshole of a boss who makes Harry come home nearly every day with red-rimmed eyes. "I'm tired, Draco," Harry whispers. "I'm so tired."
Draco shifts in Harry's arms, turning to look him in the eye. This time, the words come easily. "Darling, I wish I could make it all better. I wish we could stay here. I—" he breaks off, struck by a sudden epiphany. He frowns, thinking it through, as Harry looks on in confusion.
Before Harry can reply, Draco breaks into a grin. "Harry, if you want to stay, then let's stay."
Now it's Harry's turn to frown. "What?"
"Hear me out." Draco sits up, moving out of Harry's embrace to sit up straight. "You hate your job. You do, Harry. I know it's what you thought you wanted, and maybe you're still passionate about some parts of it, but you're miserable there. You have to face that."
Harry swallows and glances away, but he doesn't argue, which Draco takes as a win.
He presses on. "Life is far too short to be doing something that causes you this much strife. And luckily, we can afford for you not to work. In fact, we could both quit our jobs tomorrow and live comfortably for the rest of our lives," Draco feels more adamant now, as if he's convincing himself as well as Harry.
Harry shakes his head, bewildered. "Wait. You're proposing I quit my job, we sell our flat, and we move here—to what was supposed to be our vacation home—full-time?"
Draco grins. "Exactly."
"But what about you? What about your work? The publishing house is based in London."
Draco waves a hand. "I can write from anywhere, now that you've shown me how to use that Muggle compu-tator."
"It's called a computer, love."
"Whatever. I can use it, can't I? And when I have meetings, I can call or go in person using the Floo. Besides, it might be nice to write with such a gorgeous view."
Harry hums, glancing outside the window. "It is beautiful here."
Draco smirks. "I wasn't talking about the view outside the window." He leers and waggles his eyebrows meaningfully, and Harry laughs, blushing a bit.
Draco settles back into Harry's arms, confident that he's got him nearly convinced. "Picture it, love. We can have a garden and grow all sorts of things. We can still have our friends over whenever we want; the city is only a Floo away." He looks up at Harry, tilting the other man's chin down slightly to look at him directly. "I think it would be good for you." He laces their fingers together, their wedding rings clinking. "For us."
Harry's silent for a moment. Draco gives him time, just taking the opportunity to look at him. To silently convey all the love he feels, always present under his skin, and letting it rise to the surface. Say yes, Harry, he thinks. It'll be good. So, so good.
Finally, Harry smiles. "Let's do it. I'll send Robards my resignation tomorrow."
Draco's hopeful smile splits into a wide grin. He flings himself upward and nearly knocks over their wine glasses with the force of his hug. "Yes! Oh, Harry, we'll be so happy. So disgustingly happy, I promise you."
Harry chuckles, kissing Draco, short and soft. "I don't doubt it."
"We need to celebrate." Draco reaches for their wine glasses, handing Harry his and holding his own up between them. "To you, and to the future."
Harry brings their glasses together with a soft clink. "To us."
#im DEFINITELY not late with this one............#eight drarry nights 2023#night 3#in my defense I didn't forget I just had a busy day#drarry#draco malfoy#harry potter#draco and harry#harry and draco#draco x harry#harry x draco#draco/harry#harry/draco#draco malfoy and harry potter#harry potter and draco malfoy#draco malfoy x harry potter#harry potter x draco malfoy#hpdm#drarry squad#drarry fic#drarry fanfic#drarry fanfiction#drarry ficlet#drarry drabble#drarry fandom#hp fic#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction#hp fandom#harry potter fandom
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prompt: falling asleep with their head laying in the lap of their lover
i hope u enjoy!!
buck's found himself gravitating towards eddie's house more and more these past few weeks.
since that first time, when he fell asleep in five seconds flat on eddie's couch, he's been finding more and more excuses to go over. deep down, he knows he doesn't need an excuse — eddie would welcome buck into his home anytime, just like he has been for years now. some days, buck feels more comfortable in eddie's house than he does in his own apartment and that's — well.
tonight's no exception. he'd waited until he knew eddie was done with work before turning up at his door. at some point in the last few weeks he's given up on knocking, rationalising to himself that it's eddie's house, he's not really a guest, hasn't been in years now. he wordlessly pulls two beers from the fridge, handing one to eddie who smiles at him, all teeth and soft around the edges in a way that sets buck's cheeks on fire.
they talk and laugh and eat shitty take-out from their favourite chinese place, and for a brief moment in time it's like buck never died. it feels good, is the thing. it feels so good to not be thinking about his well-being and his fitness to go back to work or whether he actually does want to go back to work. it feels good to tell a joke and watch eddie's head tip back with exuberant laughter, it feels good to watch the way his adams apple bobs as he swallows some beer. it feels good to want something for once.
eventually, the lingering fatigue that's been plaguing him since the accident catches up with him, and he tries to smother a soundless yawn behind his hand. he feels a gentle tug on his t-shirt, then another, more insistent one a couple of seconds later. he turns his head to eddie, who's patting his lap. buck squints his eyes in confusion, but he's so damn tired, and eddie's lap looks so comfortable, and he decides he's allowed to want this.
slowly, he lets himself tilt, his head eventually landing on eddie's thighs and a breath escaping that he didn't realise he was holding onto. he rolls onto his back to find eddie already looking down at him, eyes crinkling at the corners and smile soft and so full of what buck recognises as love that it makes his blood sing. eddie reaches down, carding a gentle hand through buck's hair, fingertips scratching at his scalp and buck feels like he might quite possibly melt into the couch.
the combination of the gentle pressure, the low light cast across the living room from the lamp in the corner and knowing that eddie's there causes his eyelids to droop. eddie's always been his safe place to land, ever since they've known each-other. and as buck gives in to the gracious embrace of sleep, he realises there's no where he'd rather be.
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Jonah couldn’t breathe.
Everything was blurry and it felt like there wasn’t any air at all, his wheezed attempts at gaining oxygen falling short every time.
He needed to breathe, he knew this, but the air just wasn’t going. He didn’t know what to do, and it hurt it hurt it hurt make it stop please he wants to breathe please let him breathe–
“Jonah– jonah can you hear me? It’s Seth, it’s just me, you and Adam, okay? No one else. I need to know if you can hear me.”
Yes, yes Jonah could hear him, could hear Seth. Jonah nodded shakily, eyes still shut tight as he wheezed terrible breaths and choked on nothing. He could feel himself getting tired, which just made him gasp more, desperately trying to get air into his system.
“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s okay. Can I touch you? It’ll just be your right hand, okay? Just that.”
That… that was okay, he thinks. It was probably ok, so he nodded again, a strangled whimper escaping his throat when his hand was gently grabbed and pulled towards something moving up and down. A chest.
“Can you try to breathe with me? In and out, just like this.”
Steadily, Seth’s chest moved up and down in tandem with his breathing, and Jonah shakily tried to follow.
He failed miserably at first, letting out a frustrated and panicked whine, but Seth gently shushed him, asking him to continue trying.
There was a soft murmur Jonah couldn’t make out, too focused on his breathing, but then the blinding lights that’d been irritating him were turned off, and he relaxed at the lack of hurt on his retinas.
Slowly but surely, his breathing became normal, and his eyes fluttered open, being met with Seth looking at him in concern as Adam stood by the lightswitch.
Humming, Jonah closed his eyes again and slumped further towards the eldest, carefully gripping onto his hoodie in a tired hug. A small smile spread across his face when the embrace was returned.
“...thank you…”
[a drabble based off earlier asks :D they are family :]]
WAUUGHHHGGFGFF /pos
The GUYS they’re a FAMILY
#asks are neat#super cool fan stuff#tmc alternate au#seth greer (tmc)#tw panic attack#they are the ever to me I swear#Seth PLEASE for the sake of everyone admit you’re a total dad-
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[ seeking ] one muse embraces the other after feeling scared/upset. - from sero for ya boy shoto
there's no rationale in fear, in anger -- it tends to seize his limbs, to cause his heart to pound painfully behind his ribs even as he bites his tongue until it bleeds. they've all felt it plenty of times. the usj, bakugo's kidnapping, dealing with the league and subsequently, the paranormal liberation. shoto's mask stays in place even when he feels this things, but it doesn't mean he doesn't feel them intensely, sometimes it feels like it's spilling from his pores.
he hates it but there are times when he wishes he didn't feel it at all. it would've been okay to just not feel at all. but he can be honest with himself, aizawa-sensei, his mom back in new york, bon, 1-a ; they've all helped him come out of his shell, to be shouto. and for that he's ever grateful. and those friendships, the ones he cherishes so dearly sustain him in those moments when he can't really function, where he has to dissapear before anyone of his friends ask things he can't answer.
loni had encouraged him to open up, to emote more openly, even if he still struggled most days. idly rubbing at the faint burn scars he can feel around his adam's apple, his head tilts, ivory strands spilling into his gaze when footsteps reach his ears. no one was supposed to be awake in the dorms, not at this hour, but he looks past his reflection in the mirror to see sero. he looks dishevled, tired and upset. nightmare ? probably, those were common these days.
shoto didn't speak as he turned around to meet his friend's gaze, mismatched gaze curious then he stepped forward, arms falling to his sides. hugging bon was different, that was his little brother but sero -- gods, it was so good to see him. not letting his mind focus on errant thoughts, he closes the distance between them, arms hugging sero to him, grip tight. shouto couldn't lost all of them, a war they shouldn't have been in, villain attacks that shouldn't have happened and in the end, they were probably more traumatized then they should be.
but they were alive. sero was alive. midoriya ( reckless as he might be ) was alive. shouto was able to see them come out on top. he doesn't stop holding sero, even when the other boy hugged him back. words got choked up in his throat and he couldn't even know how long they stood there, holding one another, lost in the moment of knowing that they were alive and this was real and shouto didn't want to let go, not yet. / @goldwanderer
#this got long for no reason#ugh i have feelings#🐉◦ ✧ ✩ todoroki. ( ic )#goldwanderer#🌺ˑ » petals swaying in autumn breeze.
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can you do "I can't let that happen again" for danbert? Thank you :)
"We need the buddy system," Dan insisted. "It's the only way to stay safe down here."
Herbert just glared at him through a bubbling test tube, the glass warping Dan's cross expression into something cartoonish. He'd been trying his best to ignore him and focus but Dan seemed adamant to have this conversation.
"I've done plenty of work by myself," Herbert said, securing the tube in a clamp. "As much as it pleases me that you're taking an extra interest in our experiments, let me assure you I'm perfectly fine on my own."
Dan gave an aggravated sigh and ran his hands through hair. "How many times do you have to get hurt before you realise you're not safe when you're alone?"
"Every job has occupational hazards," Herbert replied easily. "I know what they are. It doesn't bother me."
"But it bothers me!" Dan burst out.
Herbert jumped in his seat as Dan marched around the work table and grabbed his shoulders. The fierce burning in his eyes made Herbert lean back, his heart suddenly kicking against his ribs.
"Do you know how much I worry about you?" Dan demanded, his voice coming out ragged and desperate. "When I'm at work and you're here, all I can think about is if you're okay, or if you're lying on the floor, bleeding out. I have no idea and it...it tears me up." He ripped his gaze away from Herbert's and bowed his head, as though the weight of everything he'd just said had caught up with him, snuffing out that fierce passion. "I've already thought I lost you twice. And I just- I can't let that happen again."
Herbert blinked at this sudden display of brittleness. He'd always known Dan to easily give way to emotion, his constitution swaying in the breeze of others' suffering. But to see him tired and shaking like this out of concern for him was disturbing in a way he couldn't put his finger on.
With Dan's hands still clamped on his shoulders he tentatively reached out and squeezed his arm in what he hoped was a reassuring way. Dan instantly crumbled at the touch, falling into Herbert and wrapping him up in his arms. Herbert gasped at the pressure of their bodies crushed together as Dan buried his face in the crook of Herbert's neck. Herbert slowly returned the embrace, stroking small circles into Dan's back.
"You don't need to be afraid," Herbert said, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears.
"Yes, I do," Dan fired back, his words muffled against Herbert's collar. "You have no sense of self-preservation. One of us has to be afraid."
Herbert looked at the man in his arms and sighed. "I'll consider it."
Dan pulled his face back but kept his arms locked around Herbert. He blinked as though trying to shake off a mist clouding his eyes.
"What?"
"The buddy system," Herbert said begrudgingly. "I'll consider it."
Dan's answer was a watery smile. The sight dislodged something in Herbert's chest, letting it fall, clunking against his insides before landing in the pit of his stomach. He released his hold on Dan and scooted back in his chair, trying to quell the heat flooding his veins. He turned back to the work table and coughed into his fist, avoiding Dan's gaze.
"Now, if that's all, you can either leave or put some gloves on and join me," he said gruffly, busying himself by fiddling with some beakers.
Dan let out a soft breath beside him then walked away. For a moment Herbert expected to hear his footfalls on the stairs but then he reappeared, tying an apron around his waist. Herbert watched him slip on a pair of latex gloves, and when Dan faced him, his eyes still looked tired but not so despairing.
"Okay," Dan simply said. "What're we doing today?"
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Happier
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Angst, Occasional Fluff, and Humor
Word Count: 20k
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING! Curse words, Mentions of Cheating, The Act of Cheating, Suggestive Themes, Mature Scenes, Physical Fights, Abortion, hinted Depression and Reliance on Alcohol, Attempted Suicide.
Special Appearances: Kim Mingyu and Woozi from SEVENTEEN, Kihyun and Minhyuk from MONSTA X.
Inspired by:
Happier ~Olivia Rodrigo
Blue and Gray ~BTS
Happier ~Ed Sheeran
Glimpse:
"You look happier..."
"I just want to be happier-"
"Don't be happier."
Summary: Yoongi finds himself looking for his happiness and freedom in another woman, leaving you behind with a broken heart and fading memories. But the moment he realizes that he was happier with you, might just be a moment too late. Alternatively, Yoongi cheats on you but struggles to let you go when he sees that you're happier without him.
Note: Italicised passages and segments either represent situations taking place in the past or alternatively, at the same time in a different place.
“There’s someone else…right?”
Yoongi stood by the door, a hand frozen in the air that was meant to grab the handle. You watched every move of his with careful eyes, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed ever so slightly because he tried to swallow down the tone of heaviness outlining your words. The way his pinky trembled at the very revelation he tried to hide from you. The way his shoulders slumped forward just a little with the weight of the atmosphere around him; the guilt of destroying something that was once nothing but precious to him.
You continued to watch him with sad eyes, tired and exhausted from breaking down more times than you thought you could. Tired of waiting for him to finally be honest with you. Tired of wishing he would leave everything and for once… just come back home to you.
That was all you desired, all you ever wanted from and with the man that now stood by the door that could lead him away from you.
A home. A family. A future.
It was suddenly unclear when all these lines had begun to blur, beautiful memories now remaining just what they were. Memories. Ghosts of mere moments that once meant the world to you. Running around with tender footsteps, making their way into your mind and settling there with no name to leave, tormenting you yet comforting you to no end.
How was this supposed to end?
Was it supposed to end?
Did you… want it to end?
“Yes.”
~
Min Yoongi was the man that had taken his sweet time to fall in love with you. At first sight, the real person was hidden behind a professional, well-kept mask, one that took you quite a while to look past. You watched the man that had your heart learn how to love, learn how to cherish a relationship, learn how to lean on someone instead of fighting the waves himself.
You walked with him through it all, at times behind him when he needed someone to fall on, at times ahead of him when he needed someone to guide him, yet mostly by his side, when he needed someone to love.
When he needed to be loved.
You watched him grow warmer by the day, the frost of the ice that guarded his heart slowly thawing under the warmth of your touch. You watched him learn how to trust, through trial and error and endless moments of heart-wrenching pain, you witnessed his growing dependency on love itself.
You never gave him a reason to doubt the power of love, if that's what he thought it was anyway. When he needed a lap to rest his head on after a tiring day at work, you were there. When he broke down after struggling to live up to the expectations of his company, you were there.
When he thought he had found the one but she walked past him and betrayed the very trust that he had taken ages to build, you were there.
The reason he ever lifted his eyes to look at you who were once standing in the shadows, the reason he found himself leaning into your embrace every time he faced a difficulty, the reason he considered the possibility of loving you after years of loyal and devoted friendship was just that.
You were there.
When Yoongi found himself standing against the wall one evening with a clock that had stopped ticking in his hands, a tender smile had tugged at his lips as he replaced the spent batteries – because he thought back to the day he finally saw how beautiful you were. He remembered thinking how blessed he had been to have someone – who taught him the very definition of love – right under his nose, yet never realizing your value until all he had was you.
You were there.
You were there when no one else was, you were there to smile with him and cook with him and lay with him when no one else was and Yoongi had remembered thinking that that was the reason he had fallen in love with you.
Because you were there.
But...someone else came along.
It had swept you away like the torturous waves that could swallow up a tiny boat dancing to its tunes, it hit you harder than you thought it ever could, it pulled at the delicate strings of your heart and tested its patience until it had no option but to snap, leaving you with nothing but endless sorrow to drown in.
But, there was just no way you could resent him for what he had done.
Min Yoongi was just built that way. He was the one man that you looked up to, the person who inspired you to slog until you drop, just to show you the bittersweet satisfaction of your hard work that greets you at the end. He was the man who showed you parts of yourself that you didn't bother paying attention to, proceeding to write you sweet love letters describing those very parts and telling you how much it makes him love you even more.
He was the man who would wake up earlier than you to cook you a meal before he left for work, only to show you the little heart that he had formed with a green onion leak over the meal that he had set for you. He was the man who would make you sit on the floor while he sat on the bed behind you, massaging your head and shoulders until you felt like you were no longer on the ground but rather floating on cloud nine.
He was the man who stayed up all night by your side just because you couldn't sleep, washing away your worries and holding your hand until you had opened the email that would tell you if you had been accepted into the university that you had applied to. He was also the man who shed his first tear of grief when you didn't get accepted, only because the sight of you breaking down in front of him struck him with a pain that he had never felt before.
Min Yoongi had never felt for someone else until you came along. He had been pushed and cornered and hurt all his life that it became a habit to look out for himself first. But somehow, you changed that. You made him want to make someone happier, you made him want to put someone else first. You made him want to cry when someone else was crying and you made him want to smile when someone else was filled with joy.
Perhaps the sight of him changing before your eyes made you cling to what you had with him even more. You fought hard and convinced yourself that it was love that you shared with him, and that it would be love that would bring him back to you, but somehow it had turned into a mockery.
You felt ashamed to even use the word love to describe what you shared with him. Because as much as you believed you could give your life for him, you also watched him drain that very life out of you, willingly and knowingly.
That couldn't be love.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud.
Love Never Fails.
These were the words that had filled your heart with a warm feeling. You weren't much of a believer in God, but these very words that a little boy on the bus read out to you from his Bible changed the way you looked at the man you had loved.
If love never fails, then was it really love?
And even if you convinced yourself that your love for Min Yoongi would never fail, it couldn't lessen the pain that slashed a knife through your chest when you wondered if it was Min Yoongi who had failed to love you.
~
And do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen?
An eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean,
Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?
“Baby- careful!” you heard a sharp voice call out to you, a sudden gust of wind making your knee-length skirt dance away in the direction you saw Yoongi stumble in. Blinking in confusion, you turned around to catch sight of Yoongi fallen to the floor with a…frying pan in his hand?
“What are you doing?”
An incredulous laugh escaped his chest as he stood to his feet, not forgetting to send you a pointed glare before he banged the pan onto the cabinet, your shoulders jumping in surprise at the resounding clank. Yoongi took a step toward you, clicking his tongue in disappointment before reaching out and pulling out the earphones that were blasting music a little too loud for his liking.
“I told you not to wear these in the kitchen, right?”
Your eyes rolled before you could stop them, shoving his hand away and reaching for your phone to turn off the music.
“I told you to stop nagging me, right?” you mimicked his tone, raising your eyebrows at him.
He nodded, picking up at frying pan and clouting your head with it lightly. “Next time I should just let the pan fall on your head.”
You gaped at him, eyes trailing up to look at the cabinet over you that was wide open. You must’ve knocked over the pan while you were pulling out the pot for your noodles.
But then again, Yoongi was your saviour, so…
“You won’t let that happen,” you casually commented with a smug smile, turning around in time to avoid the second deadly glare that he had already begun sending your way. You sensed that he wanted to shoot you with a witty reply, but the depth of your words rendered him speechless.
“You’re right,” he agreed with you, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as he wondered how he found it so easy to let you win at a silly argument. “I could never let you get hurt.”
Your smirk somewhat covered the flutter of your heart that had managed to reach your cheeks through a shy smile, turning around to wave the packets of noodles in his face.
“Want to eat some ramen with me?” you winked at him.
Yoongi’s jaw locked in place, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at you.
“No.”
“Aye,” you whined, shoving his shoulder softly, “you’re ruining the joke.”
“You’re hanging out with Jungkook too much,” he grumbled.
You shook your head, tearing open the packets and popping some raw noodles crumbles into your mouth.
“It wasn’t Jungkook, I saw it in a k-drama,” the smirk returned to your face as you turned to face him again, pulling on your best Seoul accent as you spoke,
“Ramyeon meokko galle?”
That seemed to do the trick, a strained laugh bursting out of him before he could actually think about what you had said.
“What the hell,” he cackled, bending forward onto the counter for support as he clutched at his stomach.
“You do realize that men usually ask that question, right?” he laughed heartily, dramatically wiping at a tear that wasn’t even there.
“It’s about time women start showing men who’s boss,” you whistled, a little too unbothered by his statements because he had already ruined the joke for you. You watched the water boil, your fingers reaching for the seasoning mix just as his hand stretched over you and into the packet to grab some raw crumbles as well.
“I can’t seem to argue with you today,” Yoongi smiled lightly, crunching on the noodles.
“You can never argue with me,” you acknowledged, to which he nodded.
“You’re right,” he said again, reaching out to kiss the side of your head. Your lips tugged up at the corners, turning to face him as you spoke with an over exaggerated pout.
“I think you’re forgetting something.”
“Oh?” Yoongi’s lips rolled into a thin line. “Am I now?”
“You are,” you nodded cutely, the pout still playing on your lips, making him giggle like a little boy. He caught your face within his palms, squishing your cheeks before leaning forward and placing a solid kiss to your lips.
“Stop being so cute, or else I’ll eat you up.”
“Please do,” a series of giggles bubbled out of you as his eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Yoongi smirked, his hand moving quickly to snatch the packet of seasoning from your grip, reaching up and holding it above his head.
You looked up, blinking once, twice, before shaking your head.
“My love,” you began, a light scoff reaching his ears. “Why do you always have to make me feel like I’m the shortest girl in the world?”
“It’s cute,” he shrugged, waving the packets as he stuck his tongue out at you, teasing you.
“Right,” you nodded, facing him and sending him a dashing smile. “If you think I’m cute because I’m short, then why are your brains stuck in your knees?”
“What?”
Before he could comprehend your question, you stuck your fingers into his armpits, his entire body jerking forward as he squeaked in surprise. In one swift movement, you pulled the packets from his hand, his mouth falling open as he touched the tender spot that you had just pinched.
“You may be tall, but I know how to get my way.”
“Okay boss lady,” he nodded, giving up just as quickly as he had started. “You’re on another trip today.”
“You’re just a little weak today,” you shot back, shaking your head in amusement as you emptied the packets into the boiling water. He hummed in agreement, not bothering to fight you on that as he pulled out the noodles, slipping them into the water.
You both fell into a comfortable silence, Yoongi walking around to pull out two bowls just as you turned off the stove. He then opened the draw next to you to take out two sets of chopsticks and two soup spoons, placing them on the table and handing you the vessel holders for you to bring the pot of ramen onto the table.
“Mmm! This smells heavenly,” he commented, bending over and taking in a long sniff of the flavoured steam. You giggled, taking a seat beside Yoongi.
“Ah-” he stood up, walking to the fridge and pulling out two eggs.
“My soul food.”
“Mhm,” you nodded, your mouth watering at the sight of the noodles that you were serving into your bowl. You licked your lips as you picked up Yoongi’s bowl, giving him a larger portion before setting it down for him to crack his egg into it.
Just before you could start, Yoongi placed a tiny plate with a perfectly fried egg over it beside your bowl. You gasped happily, looking up at him as he smiled fondly at you, patting your head.
“That was quick!”
“I know you like your eggs well cooked, so I fried one for you.”
You squealed like a little kid who’d just been told they could stay up a little longer past bedtime, fond eyes wide as you clapped happily. “You know me too well!”
“That I do,” he nodded, pulling at your cheek. “Cutie.”
“Yoongi?”
“Hmm?”
“You know I love you, right?”
“Yes I do.”
“You do?”
Yoongi nodded again, mixing his noodles with his chopsticks.
“I do, because somehow, I happen to love you more.”
A gentle smile grew on your face as you reached out to touch his cheek delicately. “I’m really happy to hear that.”
He looked at you for a moment, gently resting his chopsticks against the bowl as he rose to his feet, leaning towards you and kissing you tenderly. His thumb grazed the skin under your eye, a soft sigh leaving him as he pulled you just a little closer to him.
You reached up to place your hand over his, your other hand making its way to the back of his head, pulling him closer as well.
“Baby…” he mumbled against your lips, your eyes opening just a little as you peered up at him, “Can we…?”
“I thought I asked you this before,” you giggled, gesturing towards the bowls of ramen. Yoongi laughed, bending down and resting his forehead against yours. With soft movements, he smoothened out your hair, fond eyes trailing all over your face.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
You froze, eyes trained on him, a shy blush heating up the tips of your ears. He smiled at that, thoroughly loving the effect he had on you yet somehow determined to make you believe that he truly meant what he said.
“The most gorgeous…” he continued, pulling you up by your arms and making you lean against the table.
“The sexiest,” he bit his lip as you giggled, large palms making their home over your waist, squeezing your skin gently.
“The most thoughtful,” he pointed towards his own bowl of ramen that you had served for him, not missing the larger portion in comparison to your own.
“The most loving,” he kissed your nose, fingers running over your face as he just smiled, taking in your beauty.
“The most amazing girl I’ve ever come across.” He finished proudly with a firm kiss to your lips, your eyes sparkling with so much love that you struggled to contain.
“Min Yoongi,” you caught his face within your hands just like he did, squishing his cheeks and giggling happily at the sight of his lips that were pushed into a pout.
“I love you so, so much.”
He smiled through the pressure against his mouth, his cheeks bunching up into lovely pink apples that you were tempted to bite into.
“I love you more, boss lady.”
~
“Oh, fuck-”
A loud, lewd moan reached Yoongi’s ears, eyes dazed and drunk as he looked up at the woman who moved swiftly over him, short blonde hair wild and frizzy as he groaned at the sight.
“Yoongi…” he heard her whisper, voice strained with an impending high, the obscene sound of skin slapping against each other somehow disgusting him yet turning him on even more.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
He reached up to grasp at her hair, harshly pulling at the brown roots as he yanked her down into a deep, messy kiss. He swallowed her moans and desperately grasped at her supple skin, chest burning and muscles aching yet there was no end in sight for either of them.
“Hyung?” he heard a distant whisper, a grumble tumbling out of his chest as the woman’s movements stopped instantly. Both heads turned toward the door that was locked, Yoongi’s head falling back in frustration as he wiped at the sweat over his forehead, pushing the woman off of him.
“What is it?” he snapped in anger, wincing as he pulled his pants back on with a strangled whimper.
“Your mom is here.”
“What?”
“Your mom is here to meet you,” he heard Taehyung explain, voice soft yet laced with thorough disappointment.
Everyone knew what Yoongi was up to, yet none of them had the guts to confront him about it, not even once. As much as Taehyung wished that he had never seen this side of his hyung, he knew that there was no other option but to silently watch it unfold, knowing that meddling with fire was not the wisest thing to do.
“Tell her I’ll be out in ten minutes.”
Yoongi was quick to reach for his phone, somehow convinced that the music he chose to play would soon drown out all of his worries.
Just as the music began to thump loudly, he walked back to the woman who lay on his bed, bare and glowing skin greeting him, his lip catching between his teeth.
“So…where were we?”
~
I just wanna be happier
Please feel the warmth in my hands
They're cold, that's why I need more of you
A soft dip in the bed made your toes curl, the cold air greeting your bare feet just as the blanket was tugged away from you. You sniffed in a long breath, turning to face Yoongi who had just reached home.
“What time is it?” you croaked, rubbing gently at your right eye that was stuck together with sleepy matter.
“Just a little past 3 AM,” he mumbled, making himself comfortable over the bed and snuggling in a little more into the warmth of the blanket.
“Wasn’t it a little too cold for you?”
“When?”
“You just took a shower, didn’t you?” you asked him, sleepy eyes looking over blindly at the outline of his figure in the darkness of the room.
“How did you know?”
“I can smell your shampoo, silly,” you smiled, reaching out to run a hand through his hair. He hissed at the touch of your cold skin against his, a shiver running through his body.
“Oh,” he laughed dryly, turning to lay on his back, “Yeah, I was really sweaty.”
“Were you practicing?” you asked him.
“Yeah.”
“Alone?”
“Hmm?” he turned to look at you, startled by your question.
“The boys were over for dinner today, were you practicing alone?”
“Uh, yeah- no, I was just going through that one part I missed last week, then I worked out for a while,” he explained calmly, but you didn’t miss the way he swallowed thickly after he stopped talking.
“You’ve changed,” you suddenly whispered.
Yoongi fell silent, chest freezing at your words. Under the blanket, you reached for his hand, icy fingertips touching his equally cold skin.
“Why would you say that?” he murmured under his breath.
“You were always so lazy to wash up after you came back home, I wonder why you’ve been showering every day after work,” you smirked, a soft giggle leaving you.
You heard him sigh softly. “I figured a little struggle is worth the satisfaction of being clean.”
“Ah, I see,” you laughed, giddily pulling at his hand and intertwining your fingers with his.
“What did you cook for dinner?” Yoongi asked.
“I didn’t cook, we ordered in. Jungkook wanted to eat pizza but Namjoon wanted to eat some Korean food, so we just ordered a bunch of different things and had a few drinks,” you answered with a fond smile.
“That’s nice,” Yoongi squeezed your hand gently.
“Yeah, it was. I missed you, but I know you needed to make up for the week that you had taken off.”
“I did,” he hummed.
Somehow, Yoongi noticed the sudden warmth of your hand in his, eyes opening in the darkness as his heart began to race. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it had become a habit for him to wait for you to fall back asleep before he slipped his hand out of yours, but today it felt different.
Your hold on him was loose, yet he wondered how it was possible for him to feel the warmth of your skin that was once just as cold as his. It made him feel rotten to know that even though he couldn’t give it back, your love was always radiating through your touch, soaking him and warming him to his bones.
He didn’t know why, but a sudden urgency took over him, his hand brushing yours off abruptly. Yoongi sat up in the bed, pushing the blanket off of him, a strained sigh leaving his throat.
“Yoongi? You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he breathed out, “Just a little hot all of a sudden.”
“Should I get you some wat-”
“No, no.” He shook his head. “Just…sleep. I’ll be right back.”
“Yoongi are you sure you’re okay?” He could hear the worry in your voice, his head falling back in exasperation. He let out a few shaky breaths, legs swinging over the side of the bed.
“Yeah, I am. Just… just stay here, I’ll be right back.”
You blinked, slowly lifting yourself up as he rushed out of the room, swallowing thickly. There was something going on, that much you were sure of, but you didn’t know how to ask him about it.
~
I really don’t know what went wrong
I grew up with a blue question mark in my mind
Maybe that’s why I’ve been fighting for my life
But looking behind, I’m standing here dazed
The powerful shadow swallows me
The question mark is still blue
Is it anxiety or depression?
Yoongi gulped, hands flat against the counter, and eyes opened wide even though he couldn’t see anything. He told himself that he shouldn’t be feeling this way, that he shouldn’t feel bad, that he just wants to do something for himself. For once, he just wanted to be happy.
He didn’t know what went wrong, but all he knew was that one morning he sat with a book on his lap and a pen in his hand, overcome with the guilt of the realization that the lyrics he was writing was not about you.
Yoongi knew, he knew that he loved you, but he couldn’t shake off the sudden feeling that chased after him. He would often find himself shaking his head in disagreement when an unknown desire sparked through his stomach, knowing that he didn’t have you in mind when he felt that way.
He didn’t know what went wrong when he began to stay awake longer than he liked too, thinking about things that you didn’t do, fantasizing about qualities that he suddenly noticed you didn’t have. He didn’t know how to shake off the feeling that made him feel sick to the stomach, because even though he knew he loved you, he also knew that he wanted something that you could never give him. Something that he unknowingly began to search for in other people. In other women.
But the guilt never left him.
Not even for a moment.
Not when he took the very first step toward a woman that was not you, not when he came back home to you that very night, not when he slept beside you with your hand in his. Not once did it leave it.
Especially tonight, when all he could think of was how unfair it was to him. He stood in the kitchen, the soft buzz of the refrigerator keeping him company as he breathed in deeply, willing himself to let go of every ounce of guilt that was pulling him down.
Your touch was… home. It made him shiver at the sensation, the memory, the scent. There was just something about you that wanted him to stay yet drove him away. You were love, you offered nothing but love to him, but he wondered why it suddenly became so suffocating. It was as if the very own rose that he cherished dearly began to pierce into his skin, convincing him to drop it.
And so he did. Or he decided to do so, anyway. He chose to let go. Even if he faced the terrifying conflict of having to choose you or leave you behind, he shook his head at the returning guilt that told him to choose you.
He wouldn’t, he told himself.
He wanted to be happy, he told himself.
He was not happy with you, he told himself.
And even if it made him feel a tiny bit better, he stood oblivious to your presence as you watched from a distance when he told himself that he wanted to be happy, yet he couldn’t be happy with you.
You didn’t know what went wrong, and even if you tried to fight the pain that pinched at your heart, you stood dumbfounded by the entrance of the kitchen, a pair of socks in one hand that you had carried for Yoongi.
You wondered what was suddenly so necessary when Yoongi would gently step out of bed and tip-toe his way out of the room with his phone in his hand, your eyes shutting just a little when he turned back to see if you were awake.
You wondered why he would diligently shower, head to toe, before he got back from work, the scent of his aloe and cucumber shampoo strong and heavy each time he lay his head on the pillow, strong enough to notify you of its role to cover up a scent that had once been there. A scent that he didn’t want you to know about, a secret that he never wanted you to find out.
You wondered why Yoongi suddenly lost interest in your work, a man who had once spent hours just listening to you rant about sudden bursts of happiness that made your heart flutter during your day, tiny reminders that made you feel happy for choosing your career without the pressure of another being. You wondered why Yoongi stayed out late and you sat back at home with your back pressed into the pillow behind you, heart full with stories that you wanted to share with him yet silent cries slipping past your lips because you didn’t understand the sudden painful feeling of not having someone to talk to.
You stood silently with fingers frozen around the material of the yellow sweater that you had also brought for him, wordlessly questioning yourself, feeling smaller than you ever had.
What went wrong?
When did it change so drastically that the man you loved no longer felt happy with you?
Would you ever get an answer to your questions?
Would you ever feel like you were not at fault for driving him away?
~
Don't say you're fine
Cause you're not
Please don't leave me alone, it hurts too much
“…yes.”
And it hurt.
It hurt you so badly to the point where your knees gave out beneath you, weak arms trembling as they held you up against the floor. Something within you began to burn, an ache that had no relief, a fear that had no reassurance.
Suddenly, everything was too real for you.
The random notifications during the night that made Yoongi walk out of the room, the late-night sessions at the company even though the rest of the boys were free and resting at home, the sudden distance that you had no name to describe. The endless sleepless nights that you spent worrying and tossing impatiently until somehow, you slipped into a restless, unsettled sleep because Yoongi never came back home.
The way his touch suddenly lost affection, as if he did something simply because he had to, and not because he wanted to. The number of times he would kiss you tenderly but pull away abruptly after a moment as if something just snapped him back to reality. The dinners that he would cook suddenly losing the experienced touch that Yoongi would always brag about; sometimes being too salty, sometimes too bland, sometimes too spicy that none of you could eat another morsel.
It all suddenly made sense.
Because it was out of the horse’s mouth.
“I never intended to hurt you, but-”
“But there is someone else.”
Yoongi’s head dropped, gazing awkwardly at his shoes.
“Yes.”
You wished it did not hurt you as much as it did. You wished Yoongi would just let go of the handle of the door that he was holding onto and just hold you and apologize. You wished he would tell you that he would let everything else go and come back to you. You wished he would tell you, even if it was one last time, that he loved you.
That he loved you so much that it hurt. That it hurt as much as you were hurting right now but his love would soothe your pain and fix all the pieces of your heart that were slowly beginning to crumble under the weight of his words. You wished he would do all those things because that was what you needed from him.
Not him awkwardly standing several feet away from you as if he had never stepped foot into the house that you once called home with him. Not him admitting that he had actually fallen out of love with you so that he could find it with someone else. Someone who was perhaps prettier and smarter and kinder, in every aspect that you were not, someone who was worth destroying the precious moments that you shared with him. You didn’t need this from Yoongi.
You needed Yoongi.
“Is she- is she waiting for you?”
Yoongi sighed, never really wanting you to find out the way you did. It burdened him and stressed him out even more that he wasn’t the first one to tell you about his own shameful sins, but his own band member. Yoongi looked down at the fading bruise on his knuckles, a painful reminder of the fight he had with Jimin.
Yoongi knew that Jimin was very emotional, and that was the reason he tried his hardest to hide this away from Jimin. But Yoongi had caught him just as he had muttered the painful words to you over the phone, his fists trembling in anger before one of them raised up to punch Jimin in the jaw.
But then again, Jimin was not an emotional fool for no reason. He didn’t just want to reveal Yoongi’s darkest secret to you just like that. Jimin knew that he had a right to feel the disappointment and hurt that he felt towards his hyung, and before he could even register the pain that was coursing through his face, he returned the favor and punched Yoongi back in the nose.
“You ungrateful bastard!” Jimin had screamed at the man who had fallen to the floor with a hand over his bleeding nose.
“How could you do that to her? You shameless son of a-”
Yoongi had Jimin pinned to the wall in a flash, face red and cheeks trembling in fury, fists bunching against the hoodie that Jimin was wearing.
“Stay out of this.”
“You don’t tell me what to do!” Jimin pushed against Yoongi, a loud yell following soon after.
“Don’t get between (Y/n) and me.” Yoongi pointed a shaky finger at Jimin, which drew an incredulous laugh out of the younger lad.
“You’re so fucking shameless to actually tell me that, you jerk! How could you tell me that when you’re the one who brought another woman between the two of you?!”
Yoongi shuddered at the memory.
With eyes that shook with embarrassment, Yoongi looked up at you.
“Yes.”
He watched you carefully, a sudden pain tugging at his heart. He felt bad, that much he allowed himself to acknowledge. He felt bad to see the woman that had stayed with him through thick and thin now fallen to the floor because he had just broken her. He knew that the only right thing to do would be to comfort you, but Yoongi feared that he might give you a false hope to cling onto. He didn’t want you to latch onto him and stop him from leaving. No, that was the last thing he wanted, the last thing he needed.
So he stood painfully far from you, the couches and tables in front of him only decorating the space that so beautifully reflected and mirrored the distance he had created between the two of you.
“Yoongi…” he heard you cry, his eyebrows pinching together when he saw you raise a hand in his direction. “Please, just- just… I don’t know! Don’t go!”
His jaw clenched at your words.
He wondered if the liberty that he allowed himself included walking towards you and holding you, but somehow Yoongi thought about his limits only after he had pulled you to his chest. He didn’t know why he did that. He didn’t know if he had the right to do that. But he just knew that in this moment, he couldn’t bear to see you so broken in front of him.
“Please don’t go!” you pleaded, desperately pulling at his shirt and moving closer to him. “Don’t go, just don’t go. Please Yoongi!”
Yoongi simply ran his hand over your head, finally coming to his senses just as he stopped himself from bending down to kiss your head.
He shouldn’t, he remembered thinking.
“Hey,” he whispered, pulling you just a little closer, suddenly at a loss for words because what could he possibly tell you? That you should stop crying and let him whip up a few eggs and toast for you? That he would spend the rest of his evening by your side so that you wouldn’t feel lonely?
That it would all be okay?
How could he comfort you after all the shit he’s just put you through?
“Yoongi, don’t you love me anymore?”
And if he wanted to wince at that, he hid it. There was just no way he could speak to you; no way he could give you an answer. There was no way he could just tell you that no…he didn’t love you the way he did before.
He didn’t love you the way he loves someone else now.
Your eyes squeezed shut at his silence which was just another reminder of the impending doom that was crouching down upon you. The man that you loved, loved someone else now. The man that you waited for everyday had someone else waiting for him too. The man that you so desperately wished to keep by your side was about to walk back into the arms of the woman he had so easily fallen for.
“Please,” you tried one last time, pulling away to look up at him through eyelids heavily lidded with exhaustion. “Please, don’t go.”
“I am so sorry, bub.” Yoongi looked pained, a delicate hand resting against your cheek. He frowned when your eyes scrunched shut at his touch, your cheek leaning into his palm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yoongi please,” you shook your head, chest aching and desperate hands reaching for his shirt.
“Please, please! Tell me we can work this out! I’ll do whatever it takes, please just- just don’t go…please don’t go.”
“(Y/n),” his head fell, eyes downcast and pained, “I can’t stay, and you know that.”
“No I don’t,” you wiped at your eyes, straightening up, “I don’t. I don’t know that, you can stay, you have to stay, please!”
“I have someone waiting for me.”
And maybe you really should have anticipated the pain. Never did you imagine the pain of heartbreak, the fear of being alone, the reminder of an empty house and an empty spot in your life to be so excruciating. Because if you did, you could’ve braced yourself.
“What about me?” you whispered, broken.
His eyes glazed over with tears that mirrored your own, a defeated sigh hitting your face.
“I’m sorry.”
“I have been waiting for you too, Yoongi.” You tugged at the collars of his shirt, the sudden realization that there was no winning him back draining you.
“What about me?”
“I don’t- I… (Y/n),” he shook his head, telling himself that it was alright to comfort you, holding your face within his hands.
“I don’t know what else to do, but I can’t stay, I can’t be with you after what I’ve done, I can’t do that to you.”
“I don’t care,” you blubbered out, holding his hands that were cold against your skin. He sighed at the same reminder, the warmth of your hands feeling so toxic to him, so unbearable that he retracted them.
“I don’t care Yoongi,” you begged him, this time holding his face, his eyes falling shut. “I just need you to stay with me, I don’t care about anything else.”
“I… I really, ugh,” Yoongi pulled your hands away from him, another cry leaving your chest, feeling nothing but dejected and hurt.
“I promised her that I would go back to her.”
“But what about me! You promised me too!” you yelled out in frustration, banging at his chest as he fell back onto his heels. “You told me that you would never leave me! You told me that there would never be another person! Why can’t you keep those promises?”
Yoongi covered his face, exasperated. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me,” you pleaded.
“Make me understand.”
Just as you were about to reach out for him again, he exploded, slapping your hands away in anger.
“How do I make you understand? What do you want me to say? That you don’t make me feel as good as she does? That you don’t make me happy anymore? That I’m just so fucking tired of you that I want nothing more than to be away from you?”
Eyes wide at his words, the whimper that was at the tip of your tongue died right there. He watched you process his words, a hand reaching for you without his knowledge.
“I’m sorry,” he rushed out, holding the side of your face. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t know it was possible, but you broke even more than you thought you could.
“Yoongi.”
He shuddered at the strained whisper of his name, feeling incredibly rotten yet knowing that there was no way out of this.
“I’m sorry.”
And before you could think of what was happening, Yoongi stood to his feet and turned away from you, making his way to the door.
“No, wait no…Yoongi please wait!” You scrambled to your feet, knees wobbly and weak yet you managed to reach him before he could leave. “Please, don’t leave me!”
And even if that guilt returned and whispered back to him, telling him to just give in and hold you one last time, telling him that it was okay to be with you and that somehow, something would work out, he refused to pay heed to it.
Yoongi wanted to be happy, and all he knew was that his guilt would not stop him from doing something for himself. He wanted to put himself first, he wanted to be with someone who made him feel happy, and he knew that even the sight of you begging him not to leave would not stop him from pursuing his happiness.
“I can’t stay with you, I don’t…I don’t feel love for you anymore.”
~
And I thought my heart was attached
For all the sunlight of our past
But she's so sweet, she's so pretty
Does she mean you forgot about me?
It could be embarrassing, honestly. The number of times you tried to contact him, the various methods that you used to reach out to him. But it was as if he just disappeared, leaving barely a gust of wind and the faint scent of his presence behind, making it seem as if the time you spent with him never happened. If someone had to see the state you were in, it would be easy to mistake you for a mentally disturbed individual, but you couldn’t give up. How could you?
You had promised yourself that your love for him would never fail, but never in your wildest dreams did you think that fighting for your love would be as difficult as this. You convinced yourself that it was Yoongi, and that even though he showed you something, deep down he genuinely still loves you and is probably just going through a phase. A phase that you were willing to look past, but nothing could ever compare to the hurt that had finally taken over you, your eyes red and weak as you looked up at the woman who had walked out of the studio.
She was…beautiful.
It was as if you were looking at a mirror that showed you not what you could see, but what you could never see before. She just had everything that you didn’t. And unlike you, it would be easy to mistake her for a perfect individual, a unique being that God must’ve chosen to not give any flaws to.
She was tall, taller than you, legs toned and shining glittery golden under the yellow lights of the hallway. There was a purse, probably as expensive as her own existence, white and spotless that hung over her arm. She wore a pair of tight fitted baby pink jeans, stopping just above her ankles and showed off her perfectly manicured white toe nails, a simple pair of white and brown sandals leaving soft taps against the marbled flooring. Her hair, one that made you frown for the first time because you knew that Yoongi didn’t fancy short hair on women, was blonde and curled softly, a fringe covering her forehead and complimenting her sharp brown eyes.
But then again, maybe you didn’t know Yoongi the way you thought you did.
For the first time, you could give yourself a valid reason for Yoongi’s betrayal. This woman was the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. And maybe it shouldn’t have made you feel at ease, but you finally understood why Yoongi found a stronger reason to not stay with you.
When her eyes fell on you, you knew she didn’t know you, and even if it was for the better, the smile that she flashed you made you feel even smaller than you thought you had felt before. It was warm, pretty and so perfectly sculpted that it made you wonder if it was fair for such a lovely looking being to exist.
And even if you didn’t want to accept it, his words played itself in your mind, tormenting you. Comforting you. Killing you.
“It is what it is.”
“We’re here, bubby,” a delicate whisper floated towards you.
Yoongi smiled, touching the side of your face that was resting awkwardly against the window of the car door, gently tucking away the hair that had fallen over your eyes. “Bub,” he ran his hand over your cheek. “We’re here.”
You had just looked so cute, he remembered thinking, a squeak that surprised him leaving his mouth, eyes widening in worry that he might’ve woken you up with that, even though he was trying to do just that. He watched with fond eyes as you smiled lazily, arms stretching out ahead of you as you, too, squeaked.
“I suppose you didn’t do that on purpose,” he narrowed his eyes at you.
“What? The super cute noise that made me want to squeeze your cheeks until you cried? No,” you mumbled through a smile, cheeky eyes stealing a glance at him.
“Huh,” he scoffed, head tilting to the right suspiciously. “Aren’t you too smart for your age?”
“No sir,” you shook your head, “I learn my tricks from you.”
Yoongi shook his head at you, an enamored rush of giggles filling the car. “You better get your cute ass out of my car right this moment, or the police might find a dead body here tomorrow.”
“Ouch,” you clicked your tongue, “Wouldn’t that be such a sad sight.”
“It would, so out you go, boss lady.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“Oh?” Yoongi cocked an eyebrow at you. “Getting feisty, I see.”
“You wish.”
Yoongi rolled his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Okay, I see what you’re doing.”
“Maybe I do want to see the police here tomorrow.” You carefully ran your finger over your collarbone.
“You wouldn’t be alive to witness it,” Yoongi gave you a look.
“No one said the dead body would be me.”
His eyes widened.
“Wow. Now my girlfriend wants to murder me. Lovely.”
You sent him a sweet smile.
“I learn my tricks from you.”
There was nothing to see, really. The air was cold and the sky was dark, almost black. But Yoongi insisted that he needed to get you out here at least once before you die. Talk about being dramatic.
You were basically stinking, but it wasn’t in a bad – I just had a bucket of sweat poured on me after an embarrassing seven-minute workout – kind of a stink. You, and Yoongi, could literally make the wild animals that had absolutely no business with you run a mile just by the scent of the medicinal whiff that was radiating off of your bodies, even through your clothes, if you will.
Yoongi had been insistent to apply a mosquito repellent on every inch of your body that his hands could reach, a constant ‘I can’t let mere bugs destroy the night I have planned,’ nag making its home in your mind just by the number of times he had repeated it. And okay, maybe it didn’t hurt as much to admit that you didn’t let him have it easy either, running around the house for a good ten minutes, an electric mosquito bat in your hand as you reminded him that the sickly smelling lotion was not necessary.
And maybe he was not impressed by the fact that you were illustrating the technique of killing by making him the mosquito.
He did flinch – even if he never admitted it – each time the bat sparked the ends of his hair, not just on his head but also the tiny ones over his arms and calves, but he was adamant. As he said, ‘I can’t let mere bugs destroy the night I have planned.’
God save you from those plans because all you could focus on was the one place that was swollen pink and hot, the one place Yoongi did forget to apply the repellent on.
Your earlobe.
If it wasn’t disgusting enough, you had smeared the blood that wet your finger the moment you touched your ear onto his shirt, a groan greeting you in return.
“I swear to the heavens right now, if you do that again, I will push you off of this cliff.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
He sat you down on the thin blanket that soaked up the dew of the grass under it not even a minute after he placed it over the ground, conveniently ignoring your ‘I told you so,’ lectures that you whispered under your breath, shoes placed neatly next to the big bucket, mind you…bucket, that he brought along with him.
Yoongi would never admit that the pink and green flowers on the plastic bucket, one that he picked up from his mother’s house just a few days ago, embarrassed him. His whole idea of ‘If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist,’ ideology seemed to work until he heard the tentative, yet well-planned mumble reaching his ears.
“Those flowers look really pretty, don’t they?”
And it was both a blessing and a curse that it was too dark. A blessing because it hid the way his fist clenched and jaw locked in embarrassment. A curse because it was just too dark to see any flowers around the two of you except for the ones on the bucket that shone under the flickering light of the candle that he placed next to it.
“Woman,” he tried to threaten you, “Don’t test me.”
“What?” you asked him innocently, “I’m just appreciating how beautiful they look. Don’t they?”
Yoongi scoffed again, a forced, tight smile stretching across his face. “Ha-ha, yes…they do.”
You sat back with hands on the ground, a proud smirk playing on your lips, your silence screaming of its victory in his face.
Yoongi wished you would sit tight and not poke at his patience for just a while, knowing that the sight of his surprise would render you speechless, so he bit his tongue and convinced himself to just gulp down every taunt and tease that you never failed to shoot his way.
“Hey, Yoongi?”
He blinked.
“You do know that your ass is going to have two round, wet spots after you get up, right?”
He blinked, again.
Did he really have to go through this for the next twenty-five minutes? Maybe.
But maybe it was worth it. Even if his fingers were numb from holding himself up on his arms for the past painfully-long-yet-incredibly-short few minutes, even if he couldn’t do anything about the mosquito bite on his little toe, even if he felt like his ears were about to fall off, he somehow knew that he just could, he really could, do this again.
Because nothing compared to the dazed look on your face as you stood up – awe-struck, fond and excited hands pointing to the faint pink brushes against the distant sky. Nothing could compare to it, even if the sunrise that he wanted you to see (at least once before you die) shone delicately yet assertively, painting bold strokes of golden and red, blending in with the dark cover that was bidding its farewell, it couldn’t compare to the softest gasp of admiration that he heard from you.
Even if all you could do was look up at the prettiest sky you had ever seen and still say that the sun looked like the fried egg that he had made for you for a few days ago, he could do this again. Yep, even if he wanted to smack you for saying that, he could do this again.
Why?
He had asked himself, even if he didn’t possibly need an answer, he still wondered.
Because he loved you. And because he wanted to just…make you happy.
He could do this again.
As long as mere bugs don’t ruin it for him.
You don’t know why you were reminded of that memory. Maybe it was because you watched Yoongi walk out of the studio with a sanitizer in his hand, calling out to the woman who had stolen him away from you, just to give her some too.
Maybe it was because of the song that he wrote after that morning with you, exclusively for you, Fried Eggs and Flowers, one that always brought a tender smile to your face, even now. Maybe it was because of the way Yoongi never got tired of reminding you of what a pain in his butt you had been that evening even though he swore he had good intentions.
Maybe because you wanted to do that again, with him.
And as much as it hurt to watch Yoongi walk past you without even noticing that you were not even a few feet away from him, you let him go.
Maybe there just was…another girl.
Maybe if you accepted it, it would hurt less.
Lesser than the pain of imagining Yoongi doing all the things that he did with you, with someone new.
And only God knew if He listened to the silent plea that reached out to the heavens that very moment, a fervent wish that Yoongi never forgets you when he does.
~
Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me
And think of me fondly when your hands are on her
“Ma.”
There was a different aura to the woman who stood in front of Yoongi. Bold yet broken, head held high yet eyes lowered in disappointment. He didn’t know how it was possible for his mother to portray two contrasting emotions at the same time, yet somehow, she just did.
It reminded him of the conflict he had been facing for the past four weeks. A relatively short period of time compared to the two years he had spent with you as your lover. Well, almost two years.
And he faced yet another conflict, in that very moment. Shoulders sagging with guilt yet hopeful eyes glancing up at his mother, hands feeling disgusted yet somehow wanting to reach out and touch her fingers to pull it up to his head. Yoongi felt ashamed to stand in front of the woman who had once raised him to be a strong young man, yet all he wanted to do was run into her arms and cry until he couldn’t anymore.
And she did give him a reason to cry.
Because never in a million years did he think that his own mother would raise her hand on him.
It was a feeling like no other, fluttering eyelids not knowing whether to screw shut or remain wide open, a trembling hand reaching up to touch the angry skin of his cheek. The aftershock of the slap made him stagger back a single step, soft and rapid breaths hitting his face and he suddenly sensed that it wasn’t over.
And it really wasn’t.
Because then came the purple handbag flying at his arm, then at his head before it dropped to the floor. Yoongi had his mouth sealed shut, feeling unworthy of making a single sound of complaint even if he just wanted to tell his mother that it hurt. And she was a mother, she was his mother. Because she knew.
That’s right, she attempted to punch his shoulder, I want it to hurt.
She pulled at his hair, weak hands dragging him forward and forcefully pushing him back, it should hurt.
Another slap to the face that actually really stung, just like you hurt your mother.
She finally grabbed his collar, pulling him down to look at him. Heavy, exhausted gasps left the older woman’s chest, trembling fingers tightening around the material of his shirt.
Just like you hurt her.
Yoongi didn’t feel it. He chose not to feel it. He chose to ignore the pain he had given you, but somehow, the eyes that were brimming with disappointed tears, staring at him sadly, made him…think. Yoongi knew that he wasn’t a man to go back on his word, but he had never been looked down upon the way he was right then. It made him think that he might’ve underestimated the damage he had done.
“Eomma.”
“You don’t deserve to call me that.”
His eyes screwed shut, palms flat against his thighs as he kneeled before his mother.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yoongi-ah,” the break in her voice pained him. “I am so disappointed in you.”
The sharp intake of his breath let her know that she hit the right nerve.
His mother was just the kindest woman he had ever met, with the warmest heart and softest skin, hands that had always been a little weak and shaky but never failed to take care of him, feeding him, brushing his hair, ironing his uniform for school. She had always had a soft spot for Yoongi, in contrast to her husband, who was certain that good values and morals were more important than emotions and happiness. She would silently cheer for him when no one else did, she would slip in a few thousand won notes into his backpack each time he left home, she would run her fingers delicately over the ink in Yoongi’s secret notebook that he had hidden away from everyone because she knew him better than he knew himself.
And she knew that this time, Yoongi had to fall flat on his nose before he learned his lesson.
So she said nothing, burdened and regretful sobs leaving her mouth, but still placing her hand over his ear delicately when he lay his head on her lap.
He wouldn’t listen, she told herself.
He needs to find his own way, she told herself.
Hopeful eyes rising up to the ceiling, she cried again.
He needs to find his way back to you.
~
“Yoongi…”
There was no way he could get enough of that sound, his fingers momentarily stopping, frozen in awe. Had it always been this exciting to act like giddy teenagers trying to hide their little high-school romance?
He didn’t know, because currently, he was a man on a mission.
His fingertips danced their way across the visibly glowing skin of the woman under him, dainty touches teasing her, making her gasp, making her want more. His eyes traveled across the ink over her hipbone, a few characters in a language he couldn’t understand, deprived lips sinking into her skin, wanting more himself.
He groaned when he heard her moan lightly, one hand supporting her body as he pushed her further into the tight space of the bathroom stall, movements slowed yet driven by the urgency of getting out of there before someone notices that he had gone missing.
Somehow he found himself moving up, trailing wet kisses along the prominent muscular ridges of her stomach, twisting his way around to kiss the dip of her waist.
“Please,” he heard her beg, his mind going blank at her request.
Her touch was just so…different. If he was in his right mind, which he wasn’t, he would’ve taken a moment to think of how different it was from yours. But the fire that ignited under his skin, the blown-out pupils that locked eyes with the woman in his arms, made him temporarily lose his cognitive abilities.
She was so gorgeous.
Hot and bothered, blond hair somehow looking so incredibly sexy even though it had begun to fade, he gazed down at her with such sinful desires that it wouldn’t be possible to word it without a blush rising to his cheeks. So he continued following his instincts, wandering hands moving swiftly, lips to her skin and ears alert and eagerly absorptive, taking in every little sound that he pulled from her.
And somehow, it did make him happy. He remembered thinking that.
She made him happy.
And maybe it was okay to allow himself to feel this happiness. Even if it came at the cost of your own.
~
Oh, I hope you're happy, but not like how you were with me
I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go
So find someone great but don't find no one better
I hope you're happy, but don't be happier
Yoongi let out a heavy breath, fingers trembling as he held onto the letter that he had received.
A letter from you.
It had been two months since he last met you. Two months since he had grown used to ignoring your messages and calls. Two months since your breakup had made it to the news and caused him nothing but absolute chaos and trauma.
He had struggled through it alone. Not that he was completely alone, save for his girlfriend who was so sweet and supportive, and the staff members and managers who had given more than their all to just take down the hurtful comments and articles that were flooding almost every corner of the internet possible.
Alone in the sense, he didn’t have the support of his band members. After facing a lot of embarrassment, the boys swore to never cover for Yoongi and his shameful activities again, and even though it hurt to admit, the fight between Yoongi and Jimin had created such an unhealthy impact on the band that it almost threatened to break at one point.
Yoongi had made it a point to put your safety as a top priority, much to his girlfriend’s dislike, but he just knew how bad the internet could be. So he had made specific instructions, creating a separate security team for you, but Yoongi failed to hide his shock when he had been notified that you were no longer in the country.
So to have a letter coming from you was surprising, to say the least. Yoongi noted that the date on the letter and the date he last received any sort of communication from you matched, and even though he had no reason to, Yoongi found himself sweating at the feel of the letter in his hold.
Maybe this was really the end. The end that he had written off two months ago but another version of it coming from you this time. And because that was what he so desperately chased after, Yoongi unfolded the papers.
"Yoongi,
This is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. I never thought even once that there would be a time I would speak with you for the last time, and somehow… I was not satisfied with our last goodbye. I totally understand if you never read this, or if you’re too busy and this letter gets thrown somewhere you could never find it, and if that does happen, then I guess our last goodbye was really the last.
But if it isn’t, and you do get to read this, I hope someday you would acknowledge what I am intending to tell you.
Min Yoongi, you are such a wonderful man. I have never once regretted anything I have done with you, for you, because of you, because I have never experienced love the way I did with you. I love you… so much, it hurts. It’s funny that I mention that because for the past few days, I have been feeling so sick, and all I crave for is your love. I really, really miss you. I miss everything about you. And at times I lie on my bed and think about every little thing that used to make me feel happy during our relationship.
There were times you would secretly scribble little dicks and boobs over my face with a marker when I was asleep, and as much as I despised you for that, I suddenly think of the things I would do to just listen to that laugh of yours again whenever I woke up and would yell at you. It makes me wonder, you looked really happy back then. Was it ever real? Did I ever make you happy? Maybe I am just far too much of a gone case, and I delude myself by thinking that maybe I did. Maybe I did make you happy.
Anyway, I also miss every part of you. I think one of the things I miss most is your scent. I remember it so vividly, it’s like a part of me, a memory that will never leave, but then again, it feels so foreign. I don’t think I should be telling you this, but maybe the gut confidence that this letter might never reach you is helping me be even more honest. I bought the perfume that you used. The exact same one, from the exact same store. But it doesn’t smell the same as you. It’s far too strong for my liking and it makes me think that it’s not your perfume, but rather your own scent that mixed with it is what I miss.
There’s just another thing that keeps me up at night. Your hands – they were always cold. I really wonder why, because you’re the first man I’ve ever come across that had cold hands. Not that I have touched many men’s hands (because you would always glower at them and scare them away), but I guess it’s just a common misconception that men always have warm hands. Your hands were like ice, if you let me describe it that way. And it used to make me happy to think that they complimented the warmth of my own. Just like yours, my hands, unlike most girls, were so hot and clammy that it used to disgust me, until I met you. It made me think that we really were perfectly designed for each other, to complement each other.
Okay maybe I am delusional. Why am I telling you about things that made me happy? Please believe me, I don’t intend to make you think that you could do better. That is not my intention.
I saw her. I don’t know her name or anything about her but I saw her once, and it really settled the restless feeling in the pit of my stomach. She is just…so beautiful. She looks so kind and pretty and lovely and I just knew that she…well, how do I put it? She is good for you. I think that is what you deserve. If she makes you happy, then I guess all the pain I went through was worth it.
Yoongi paused, placing the paper down and digging the edge of his wrist into his eyes. This was all too much for him to digest, and he suddenly sat back down on his chair, wondering how he managed to read one full page while standing up.
Taking a quick sip from his bottle, Yoongi picked up the letter again.
I don’t want you to feel bad, okay? I mean, I understand that you’ve never gone through that much of problems the way you did with me, but it’s okay…I guess. I don’t mind you being happy, because that’s exactly what I want. I love you too much to curse you or wish bad things for you the way some people do, but I just want you to know that it’s okay to be happy. Don’t beat yourself up over this. I could see the struggle you went through, the battles you had been fighting, and if this is what makes you happy, if she’s what makes you happy, then so be it.
Now that I’ve actually gotten into the flow of writing, it makes me think…why am I even writing a letter to you? It’s not like you might magically have concern for me and read something that comes from me because I guess you’ve put me on your blacklist or something haha. It’s embarrassing, I guess I’ve called you over 600 times over the past couple of months, and that’s nothing in comparison to the texts I’ve sent you. I had even sent you a package, it was that silly couple photo booth things that we had done last year, and I wanted you to have a copy of that. It’s stupid, I know. So feel free to throw it out. You don’t need to keep that. I don’t think your girlfriend would like that.
Oh geez, I just realized that I am coming off as some crazy stalker ex-girlfriend who never lets go. But no. I’ve never stalked you, and I never will. I can assure you of that. I guess, I just wanted to properly speak to you once before we finally cut off all ties. It hurts to think that it was easy for you to just let me go without properly giving us one last chance, but fine. It’s okay.
Um, I guess I’m running out of words. If you did receive that package, you might wanna throw out the pictures, but some part of me wishes that you would hide it away, maybe push it into some random book that you never read or place one of them behind your phone cover or some shit. It’s okay though, if you don’t want to, I mean. But it would really make me feel good if you do. Maybe it’s me being selfish this time, but some part of me doesn’t want you to be as happy as you were with me.
Your words still play in my head sometimes, you had mentioned that she makes you feel good. I guess you’re talking about sex or what not. Fuck I did not just write that. Okay no worries, it’s not like it can change anything but yeah. I guess she does make you happy. But is it too much to ask of you? That I don’t want you to be happier than you were with me?
Okay I’m sure that if you haven’t already, you’ve probably torn this paper and thrown it away lol. And I guess I deserve that. I’m being all soppy and shit and that really wasn’t my intention (You can see me being all formal in the beginning but I don’t know where I went wrong).
Okay Yoongi, if you’ve reached this part of the page, well…thank you for reading I guess? I couldn’t be more embarrassed but I feel somewhat better because I’ve finally worded every emotion that has been haunting me for the past few months. I really, really hope that you don’t blame yourself for this, for everything. I get it, it’s normal and natural for people to fall out of love and get attracted to something new. But maybe I didn’t expect that to happen to us.
Well, shit happens. We happened too, once upon a time. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused and I guess it’s pointless to say this but I love you. I always have and I always will. And I REALLY want you to be happy. *whispers* just don’t be happier.
And this is where we part ways.
Thank you, Min Yoongi. For making me happier than I’ve ever thought I could be."
Yoongi sighed.
He let his eyes scan the messy curls that your pen scribbled over the paper, getting even worse towards the end, probably because you were losing patience as time passed. Ironically, that’s what had happened to him as well.
Yoongi thought back to how much you hated to write. He knew just how much you despised the idea of sitting in one place with a pen to a book for more than three minutes, and somehow Yoongi felt his eyes glossing over at the efforts you had taken to write this for him. It wasn’t easy for Yoongi to just cut you off completely, and maybe he did acknowledge the affection he somehow still had for you, not finding it in his heart to simply block and delete your number. Neither could he unfollow you from any social media accounts that he had. He just couldn’t do it. Because he knew that would break you too much.
To lessen the burden of the guilt that had been eating at him, Yoongi figured that hurting you lesser than he already has would be for the best. For both of you. He knew he wanted to be happy, but he didn’t want you to be sad at the same time. Perhaps it was too much to ask for, after doing nothing less than snatching your heart out only to smash it into a million pieces and drop it back into your hands, Yoongi just didn’t want to hurt you any more than he did.
So he kept your number on his phone. Even if he changed your contact from ‘My bubby’ to ‘(Y/n)’, he didn’t delete your number. He never once unfollowed any of your accounts, even if he often found himself sitting in a corner with his thumb hovering around the ‘Unfollow’ button, he didn’t do it.
Because maybe, he remembered thinking, maybe he didn’t want you to be sad.
~
Yoongi pushed at the knob of the shower, the sudden silence in the bathroom making him shiver, wet feet padding across the tiled floor and reaching for his towel. He sniffed, wiping his hair vigorously before proceeding to dry off the rest of his body, wrapping the damp towel across his waist and using his shriveled up hands to wipe at the fog on the mirror.
His movements paused when he caught sight of the pink bruise across his collarbone, eyelids – heavy with exhaustion and lack of sleep – blinking up at his reflection. He had been careful for the longest time, and he just couldn’t find it in his heart to blame the woman for getting carried away and leaving a mark on his skin after the past few hours that he had spent with her. But he couldn’t go home this way. Not when he had just got done washing off the remainder of her perfume from his skin.
Not when he had you waiting at home, for him.
“Yes?” Namjoon answered the phone with a sigh.
“Can you give me your concealer?”
“My what?”
“Your concealer.”
“The make-up?”
Yoongi snorted. “Yes.”
“I’m not at the building right now.”
“Where are you?”
“Well…” Namjoon coughed awkwardly, “I’m at (Y/n)’s place with the boys. We’re eat-”
“-is that Yoongi?” He heard a distant voice call out.
Yoongi panicked, disconnecting the call before Namjoon could put you on the line. He had not answered any of your calls that day save for a text that he sent you telling you he’d be back late. There was no way he could talk to you right now, let alone explain the situation that he was in.
Slipping out of the bathroom, Yoongi walked back to his bed with white streaks of vapor steaming off of his body, dropping his phone over the mattress and opening the little suitcase that was placed near the couch, an emergency package you had set for him.
Two new pants, two sweaters if it got too cold, two t-shirts if it was too hot, three pairs of white socks, a new pack of black underwear that was still in the plastic packaging, a few toiletries, and deodorants, a cough mixture, a bottle of eye-cooling drops and multivitamins.
Yoongi sighed, sitting on his haunches with a sad expression as he gazed down at the love that was radiating off of your little preparations for him.
There was simply no one who could take care of him the way you did.
No one.
“Doughnuts!”
Yoongi blinked, folding the letters slowly and slipping them under his keyboard. With a soft sigh, he turned his chair to see his girlfriend shut the door to his studio, a large orange plastic bag in her hand. She smiled brightly at him, blonde hair bouncing against her shoulder blades when she skipped her way towards him.
“Hi, baby.”
She took a seat on his left thigh, an arm circling around his shoulder.
“Hi, sweet girl.”
“I got us some doughnuts,” she gestured toward the bag excitedly before placing it down on the floor.
“Mmm,” Yoongi hummed, eyes fluttering shut when she leaned forward to kiss him. Ever so softly, she caught his face, her index finger under his chin to guide him up to her while her other hand slipped into his hair.
“I’ve missed you,” he mumbled against her lips, eyes opening slightly to gaze at her.
“Me too,” she grinned down at him, pulling him into her arms as he snuggled his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in deeply. His fingers made their way to the strings behind her that were tied into a loose knot, tugging at them until it released.
“No more work?” she inquired in a small voice, eyes briefly scanning his table to see that his computers were turned off.
“I’m done for the day,” he murmured, leaving a trail of feather-like kisses along the dip of her collarbone. Pulling her a little closer, Yoongi’s hand traveled around her to rest against the small of her back. The soft sigh that left her when his fingers slipped past the material of her crop-top brought a smile to his face.
“Yoongi,”
“Hmm?”
He heard her gulp, his eyes opening when she placed both of her palms flat onto his shoulder to push him away.
“I’m kinda hungry.”
“Me too.”
Her eyes twinkled under the false lighting on the ceiling above them, raising a hand to touch the side of his face.
“You’re so cute,” she smiled, running her thumb along the expanse of his cheek.
“I’d rather not have you call me that.”
“No, but you are,” she gently insisted, grazing the skin under his eye. “I’m so lucky to have found you.”
Yoongi’s eyes opened, blinking up at her in silence. He watched her as she continued to run her eyes over every little feature of his face. There was a sudden change in the air, he noted, something that he couldn’t quite put a finger on.
“Yoongi…”
He nodded in response.
“There’s…uh,” her gaze broke away briefly. He continued to watch her in silence.
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
She looked nervous, a look he had never seen on her before. Brows pinched together in worry, Yoongi sat up a little straighter, grabbing her hand in his.
“I’m listening.”
Her eyes flitted across the studio to the attached bathroom, her chest rising and falling evidently as if every breath she took in was forced.
“Babe,” Yoongi touched her cheek, her eyes widening ever so slightly at his gesture. “You can tell me anything.”
Blinking back at the man who was gazing at her with so much love and concern, her expression changed almost instantly. Her frown disappeared, hands responding to his touch as she leaned forward to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.
Yoongi played along with it, movements slow with confusion when he kissed her back. She pulled away after a moment, gaze falling to her lap after she pushed him back against the chair.
“I love you.”
If there was something that could’ve warned Yoongi about the shock that he would experience, maybe Yoongi could’ve handled it better. He sat frozen, hands staying where they were and eyes glassing over with tears. Although on the outside it simply looked as if Yoongi was shell-shocked, there was a storm going off on the inside, a sudden dizziness making its presence known to Yoongi just as his head fell back against the chair. A feeling that he couldn’t quite describe began to squeeze through his abdomen, a feeling that he had never felt before.
Yet, all that he was certain of was that the tears that were collecting in his eyes were not tears of happiness.
“I love you, Yoongi.”
I love you so much.
His eyes scrunched shut at the voice in his head. Never before had he experienced auditory hallucinations before, not even when he was drunk out of his mind or had just woken up from a horrendous nightmare. But he heard it once, jaw clenching at the sound that filled his mind like a drug that had an intention to confuse him, an illusion with a fatal role that chased him.
When he attempted to focus on the voice of the woman who had just confessed to him, a hand flew to his ear when he heard that sound again. It was almost as if his mind wanted to hear it again, repeating it out of the faint memory that had clashed with his present.
I love you so much.
“Ah,” Yoongi shook his head, pushing her until she got the message and got off on her own, her eyes brimming with worry when he stood up and covered his face.
“Yoongi?”
“Stop—stop, just… stop talking.”
Her lips rolled into a straight line, nodding wordlessly even though his eyes were closed.
Yoongi gasped, breathing out heavily and bending forward to rest his palms against his knees. He felt her place her hand delicately over his shoulder, head shaking violently before he straightened up, shrugging her off.
“Can you just go?”
“Yoongi, what happened?” she asked worriedly, reaching for his hand but he dodged it, shaking his head again at her.
“Just go, please.”
“What’s going on? Are you okay? Should I get you some water-?”
“No.”
“I think you need to just sit down. Come here-”
“I told you to stop fucking talking!”
She flinched at his voice that suddenly boomed through the tiny space of his studio. Faltering immediately, she took a step back, her eyes downcast.
“My god!” He yelled out, both hands raising up to cover his ears.
“All you do is talk, talk, and talk and all I can hear is her voice! Everything you’ve said, she’s said to me, everything you’ve done, she’s done with me. Why can’t you just shut up when I ask you to?”
The sudden silence in the room was loud, too loud for Yoongi’s liking, a grunt leaving him as he pushed his fingers into his temples. Maybe he pushed it too far. This was something that should’ve remained in his mind, forbidden words that were not meant to be voiced out. An exasperated sigh forced its way out of his chest, a sour expression growing as he pulled at his eyebrows helplessly in frustration.
Just as he was about to apologize for taking things too far, he saw her smile.
“Last week I found out I got pregnant.”
“What?” The whisper of shock tumbled past his lips without him noticing.
She laughed, nodding in confirmation.
“I’ve been sick, and I thought it was because of that stupid sushi place that you took me to. I told you I hate sushi so much.”
“Wait—what?”
She suddenly took a bold step towards him. “But you’ve been so out of it lately, Yoongi,” she frowned.
“You never cared about me. You still don’t. You’ve never bothered to ask me what I like, what I don’t. Why do I need to keep telling you such things?”
Yoongi gulped, his heart racing anxiously.
“I hate sushi so much but I ate it because it made you happy. I love doughnuts so much and I’ve been bringing them over every time I come to the studio, but you never touch them. Why?”
She stood right in front of him, eyes reaching the level of his own. With a careful finger, she pushed it into his shoulder. Exactly in the place where he had had his surgery a few years ago.
“Why don’t you try them? Why can’t you do something to make me happy? Are you that selfish?”
She jabbed her finger into his flesh once more. “Huh? Are you?”
The sight of his fists clenched by his sides caught her attention, a soft laugh escaping her chest.
“What more could I have expected? You left the woman who loved you more than life itself just because you needed something new? Someone new? Why would the same man who did that, do something to make me happy?”
“If this is about the doughnut-”
“This is not about the fucking doughnuts, you dumbass!”
Huffing at the strength she didn’t realize she needed to explode the way she did, she breathed out heavily, opting to simply glare at him to fill the gap.
“Baby,”
Before he could reach her, she slapped his hands away, pointing a finger straight at his face.
“Don’t you dare touch me right now.”
Yoongi licked at his lips, desperate to hear more about the tragedy that had already begun to torment him.
“You’re pregnant? Like—how? Why… why didn’t you tell me before?”
She couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief. “You wanna know why?”
Yoongi frowned deeply, his head beginning to ache with a dull pain.
“You really wanna know why?”
“Will you just tell me already?”
She stared at him for a moment, tears glistening in her eyes as she gazed at Yoongi.
“Because you don’t make me happy.”
The road I always walk and the light I always receive
But today seems like an unfamiliar scene
Have I become used to it or have I collapsed?
“What?”
“You heard me, Yoongi.”
She sat back down on the couch with a huff, placing a shaky palm over her eyes.
“You must think I’m dumb,” she commented in a low whisper.
Yoongi stayed where he was, frozen to his bones and trembling eyes running all over the place.
“You’ve never forgotten about her, Yoongi. Not once. And it shows. You fucking stink of regret each time you come to me, but because you were running away from it, I never spoke to you about it.”
She somehow managed to pull the strap-on sandals that she had taken off by the entrance of the studio, slipping her feet delicately into them.
“It’s a different thing that I really liked you, but what you did was so fucking cheap. You deserve to rot in hell for that, man.”
Yoongi’s eyes fell shut at her words, a slow poison that had already begun to get to him, a fire that was burning every inch of his skin. But all he could do was stand and listen to her and she adamantly stood her ground with the intention of placing a mirror in front of the man that had turned a blind eye to all of his sins.
“You made me eat fried eggs. Up until some point, I thought it was you that liked them. But fuck,” she shook her head, pulling at the straps of her shoes aggressively. “You looked like a ghost was hovering over you each time you had to eat it. It became so evident that it wasn’t you who liked fried eggs, but (Y/n).”
She switched onto her other foot.
“You hid me away from everyone. When your bandmates were here, you asked me to leave like I was an embarrassment to you. I totally get that we met under such circumstances, but Yoongi,” she sighed, looking up at him. “You could’ve at least treated me like a decent human being when we were not behind closed doors. How do you think that made me feel? You made me feel like my one and only role in your life was to make sure you get a good fuck. And holy shit, did that hurt.”
“It wasn’t only-”
“Don’t even think about defending yourself right now, Yoongi. You know that you don’t have any toilet paper left to wipe your ass at this moment.”
And just like that, Yoongi fell silent again.
“I’m sorry we had to have this conversation, Yoongi. But it’s best if we end things here instead of dragging this any further. I don’t think I’m as strong as (Y/n) to handle you leaving me for someone else. If you did it once, you can do it again. So,” she finally stood up, reaching to the side to pick up the packet of doughnuts that she now intended on finishing all by herself.
“I should get going.”
Yoongi looked back at her with desperation in his eyes. “What about the baby?”
She stared at him for a few seconds, shaking her head at him before she dropped her gaze to her stomach.
“I dropped it.”
Yoongi felt his heart clench painfully, another blow to his chest that evening that left him silently gasping for air that he found so difficult to find.
“Why?”
With gentle fingers that touched her stomach, a watery smile began to form on her face.
“I couldn’t let my child have a father like you.”
And yet again, it was as if Yoongi was watching himself walk out of this door, his eyes scrunching shut painfully and his clenched jaw and fists that curled around the crumpled material of his shirt did nothing but scream to him, telling him not to open his mouth. That this would be something he wouldn’t be able to recover from. A wound that would never heal. An ache that could never leave.
But he found that he was more desperate at that moment than he had ever been.
“Don’t go.”
The woman stopped by the door, fingers still hanging loosely around the handle, an inaudible sigh slipping past her lips.
“I can’t stay with someone who doesn’t make me happy.”
“Yoongi hyung! Hyung!”
The sound of loud slaps reached his ears first, almost before a dramatic time gap after which he realized that those slaps were actually directed to his face, wincing weakly at the stinging sensation over the pink skin of his cheeks.
“Hyung!”
“Ugh,” Yoongi groaned, raising a hand to protect his sore cheeks from any more slaps.
“Are you okay? You fell down the stairs!”
Yoongi frowned, nodding nevertheless and squinting to try and recognize the unfamiliar voice that was speaking to him.
“I’ll get him some water,” he heard another voice briefly mumble, his eyes finally opening to see a tall man hover over him. With wide eyes, he wordlessly gestured for the stranger’s upside-down face to move out of his way.
“Oh- let me help you up!” He suddenly yelled out loudly, Yoongi’s ears already beginning to hurt by the sound of the overly excited man. Yoongi had just tumbled down a flight of stairs, for crying out loud.
With a grunt, Yoongi managed to sit back up, shutting his eyes when he felt his head lose control.
“Oh, oh, oh! Hyung!”
The giant of a stranger suddenly caught Yoongi by his shoulders before he could fall back down again, a strained grunt leaving the man as he tried to hold all of Yoongi’s weight by his arms.
“Oh shit,” Yoongi heard someone else call out, coming back to his senses as his eyes flew open again.
“Here, have some water.”
Yoongi couldn’t resist the force that spread his mouth open, water flowing into his parched mouth like a burst of freshness that he didn’t realize he desperately needed. Blinking away the black spots in his vision, Yoongi nodded to signal that he had drunk enough.
“Hyung, are you okay?” asked the same loud voice.
Yoongi turned slowly, eyes locking with the man who was too close to Yoongi for his liking.
“Who are you?”
The tall man looked to the side to his friend who was also confused.
“Did you forget me? I’m Mingyu. That’s Woozi.”
Yoongi looked in the direction of the man who had brought the bottle of water for him.
“Hi,” Woozi greeted him with a small smile.
“Woozi?”
“Yep.”
Yoongi was still frowning in confusion, too dazed to pinpoint where he had met these men before. “Are you guys from our company?”
“SEVENTEEN,” Mingyu replied. He couldn’t help but raise a finger to poke into the side of Yoongi’s head.
“Did you hurt your head so bad that you forgot us? You cooked dinner for Jungkook-ah and me when we stayed over last week, remember?”
“Ah… the 97-liner's dinner night.” Yoongi nodded.
“Are you okay, hyung-nim?” Woozi asked.
“Uh yeah, yeah. I don’t know what happened.” Yoongi glanced to the flight of stairs that he had been making his way down a few minutes ago.
“When was the last time you ate?” Woozi inquired.
“Uh, in the morning, maybe. I had some coffee with Hoseok.”
“You had a coffee on an empty stomach?”
“I like to.”
Woozi gave Yoongi a pointed look. “That’s why you fell. It’s 7:30 PM right now.”
“Come eat with us, hyung! We were just about to go to the hall to eat.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just go back to the studio.”
“I don’t really think you have much of a choice,” Woozi shrugged with a smirk.
Soon, Yoongi yelled out in surprise when he was lifted off of the floor, Mingyu picking him up effortlessly with an accomplished grin shining brightly on his face.
“Mingyu! Put me down this instant!”
“Not until you’re done eating as much as I wish to feed you.”
~
It was obvious.
It was so obvious that something was wrong the moment Yoongi entered the dining hall along with Mingyu and Woozi, it made his toes curl with a cringe that reflected directly onto his face.
Jungkook’s voice died down in an instant the moment his eyes landed on his hyung, whatever conversation that he was in with the rest of the boys dissipating as if it had never been there.
Jungkook was a man of respect, a man that knew how to respect and a man who could earn respect for himself in return. So just like his elders had correctly taught him, Jungkook welcomed Yoongi, even if it brought a bitter taste to his tongue.
“Ah, hyung. You’re here.”
“I am.”
The sound of chairs scraping against the wooden flooring made Yoongi wince, the headache that was pounding in his head still very much alive and excruciating.
“Hello!”
Two voices greeted Yoongi, the men receiving a small smile in return.
“I hope you remember us, Yoongi-ssi,” Kihyun smiled, stretching an arm across the table full of food to shake hands with Yoongi.
“I certainly do. I see you guys often here.”
“Are you doing well?” asked Minhyuk. Yoongi nodded, although far from well.
“I am. How are you both?”
“We’re rocking!” Kihyun smiled brightly, briefly greeting Mingyu and Woozi before everyone settled. Yoongi sat between Minhyuk and Woozi, noticing an empty seat beside Jungkook but not finding it in him to walk all the way across the table to sit there.
“The food here looks so good, no wonder we always come here,” Minhyuk grinned at the sight of several plates of authentic Korean dishes that almost covered the entire table, a sight that was enough to get everyone’s mouth to water.
Even Yoongi, for that matter. Yoongi had been too absorbed in his own work for a long period of time that he himself couldn’t remember, basically living on sausages, instant noodles, or gimpab. Not that he was complaining, but the bowl of mul naengmyeon – Korean cold noodle soup – that was almost filled to the brim that sat in front of him made him realize that he was hungry.
Hungry for food that he had been deprived of for the longest time, and with a little smile that he sent in Mingyu’s direction – that was the best he could offer – Yoongi felt grateful for having a meal, with people around him.
“Hey!” Woozi frowned. “I thought you guys visit to meet us.”
“Yeah, we’re side-tracked now. I see what friendship means to you guys.” Mingyu’s eyes narrowed accusingly at the two guys who were giggling into their hands like little teenagers.
“What century are you all living in? We’re Koreans. Our hearts are Korean. And most importantly, our stomachs are Korean. Food comes before anything else.”
Kihyun chuckled at Minhyuk’s words, patting his friend on the back. “Spot on.”
“I see,” Mingyu scoffed, shaking his head with fake disgust and looking towards Jungkook.
“That guy right there. Learn something from your dongsaengs! We value people more than food.”
“Shut up and eat before I throw some of this kimchi juice on you,” Kihyun warned.
Yoongi didn’t miss the small smile on Jungkook’s face that had disappeared as soon as it grew, eyes downcast at his food without a single word spoken. There was just so much pain that Yoongi was responsible for, especially those closest to him. But his heart twisted with regret to see the maknae get so terribly shaken by all of this. Yoongi felt the first tinge of shame tug at his insides at the sight of the younger man whom he had proudly brought up for the past few years. He could only hope that somehow, someday, Jungkook would be able to look back at his hyung with pride. But the odds were highly unlikely for that.
He had accompanied Jungkook to school, cooked for him, watched over him with a fatherly gaze that made Yoongi’s chin stick out with pride at every little thing the maknae mastered. He had taught the fellow how to drink too, going on to become maekju buddies, teaching Jungkook the perfect ratio of beer and soju that would make a mind-boggling drink, 4:6, a number that Yoongi was sure Jungkook would never forget. Jungkook would fondly recite the numbers each time he would pour the soju into the tall glass, filling up the rest with ice-cold beer that had both of them, well, three of them, laughing whole-heartedly for the rest of the night.
The third person being another maknae that Yoongi had once been exceptionally close to; Jimin.
The maknae that stood at the entrance of the hall with a deep frown etched onto his face, a cold gaze fixated on Yoongi before he looked away in disgust.
“Jimin-ah!”
Jungkook’s lips rolled into a tight line in fear of both of his hyungs creating a scene in front of people who had no idea of what was going on behind the scenes.
“Ah, oh—yes… Eat up, guys! I just came to see you; I’ll catch you-”
“No, no, no, eat with us!”
“I’ve got some work to do,” Jimin tried to explain, not even bothering to spare Yoongi a glance. Biting his lips in response to that, Yoongi silently twirled the stainless steel chopsticks with his fingers, feeling hurt but knowing that there was nothing he could do to repair the damage that he had done.
“Hyung, eat with us,” Mingyu whined, mimicking Jimin’s pout and shaking his shoulders. “We haven’t eaten together in so long!”
“Really, I’ll meet you guys some other time,” Jimin tried again, hopelessly looking towards Jungkook who shrugged.
“Eat with us,” Jungkook said simply, patting the empty seat beside him. That made Jimin sigh, knowing that there was no way out of this.
“That’s right!” Kihyun cheered, “No one here wants you to go. What do you say, Yoongi-ssi?”
Yoongi swallowed, looking up and nodding without any thought.
“You’ve probably not eaten, so stay.”
Jimin looked down at Jungkook who was nervously chewing on his lips, nodding and patting the maknae on his head.
“Okay. Since the maknae insisted, I’ll eat with you guys.”
Woozi glanced in Yoongi’s directly with a frown. Jimin had openly ignored Yoongi’s words, and somehow the blank expression on both of their faces spoke volumes. But for the sake of keeping the peace, he stayed silent.
“Thank you for the food!”
Ten minutes into the meal and the room is filled with heartfelt – yet extremely loud – chit chats, joyous laughs over lame jokes, and pieces of meat or fish that were being transferred from one bowl to another as an act of love. Brotherly love, if you will.
Something that Yoongi has also been deprived of for the longest time. It made him frown, that much he would admit, but Yoongi had blamed the sniffles on the chili that he had bit into while devouring his noodles. Jimin and Jungkook had soon broken the ice, the ice that had formed instantly the moment Yoongi had stepped foot into the hall, and even though it was quite a sight to see, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel dejected.
He couldn’t help but feel unwanted.
Not that the others were not welcoming enough, but the unsettling thought that if the cloth that was covering his mistakes was drawn, he would be too ashamed and bare, knowing that this treatment would naturally be a return gift from the rest of the boys too. So Yoongi sat quietly with his eyes following the conversation but heart elsewhere, not feeling like he deserved to be a part of a gathering that was filled with so much love.
“But I must say,” Mingyu pointed his chopsticks up aimlessly. “BTS has truly been an inspiration to us. The entire music industry too.”
“Mhm,” Minhyuk agreed with a firm nod.
“I mean, we all have had our fair share of struggles and pains. There is no point in comparing who went through worse shit, but each member of BTS has really taught us the meaning of teamwork.”
Jungkook smiled at Woozi’s words.
“I’ve never seen a bond as strong as you guys,” Kihyun shook his head. “I mean, sure, we all are a part of a group and we all love our members so much, but you guys are on another level.”
Mingyu and Woozi both nodded in agreement.
“Ya’ll are basically family.”
Somehow, Jimin and Yoongi both looked up at that statement, eyes briefly meeting before Yoongi looked away.
“We are.”
“Yeah,” Jimin agreed with Jungkook, a sudden wave of sadness washing over his expression.
“And I really can’t talk about this enough, but I’ve seen RM hyung and Suga hyung work, like personally,” said Mingyu with a determined raise of his eyebrows. “It’s insane!”
Yoongi chose to wipe his mouth.
“Namjoon hyung is out of this world,” Jungkook smiled fondly. “He’s my role model.”
“The whole world knows that, Jungkook.”
“As they should.”
Woozi didn’t let the awkward silence settle.
“Yoongi hyung is extremely talented too.” Woozi placed a gentle hand on Yoongi’s shoulder. “I get a lot of inspiration from him. In terms of music, relationships, life. Everything.”
And Jimin tried really hard to hold back the scoff that almost made its way out of his throat.
“Right. You might want to rethink the whole ‘relationships’ part of your package.”
Woozi frowned at that.
“That sounds rich coming from you, Jimin. You both fight like an old married couple all the time, it’s quite obvious you both’ve had a tiff before this dinner as well.”
Jimin’s jaw clenched, nodding and forcing a laugh out.
“Yeah right.”
“Guys, who’s up for some ice cream?” Jungkook quickly stood up out of his chair, attempting to distract everyone from the tension that had already begun to set over the entire evening.
“Me,” Minhyuk raised his hand.
“I’ll pass,” Kihyun shook his head.
“I’ll have some,” Mingyu nodded in Jungkook’s direction.
“Me too,” said Woozi.
“Okay! Jiminie hyung?” Jungkook turned to face the sulking man. “Ice-cream?”
“You’re eating?”
Jungkook nodded with a soft smile.
“Okay. I’ll take the same flavor as you.”
“Alright. Uh—” Jungkook cleared his throat. “Yoongi hyung?”
“Hmm?” Yoongi looked up, red eyes brimming with tears of exhaustion and pain. Jungkook felt his stomach clench painfully at the sight of his hyung.
“Will you have some ice cream with us?”
Yoongi swallowed, a light-hearted laugh vibrating through his chest.
“Nah. I’m good. You guys go ahead.”
And so they did. Slowly, each member got up and patted Yoongi on the shoulder before they eventually made their way out of the hall. Woozi lingered around for just a moment longer, worried eyes watching over the man who had his face downcast.
“Hyung-nim?”
Yoongi looked up.
“Make sure you eat well, please.”
Yoongi scratched at his eyebrow, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed with emotions and sensing the urge to break down then and there. It had just been too long since someone had told him that, and what hurt the most was that all he could remember was you reminding him to eat healthy meals instead of those stupid sausages that he would always munch on.
“If you need someone to talk to, or eat with, I’m always here. Please remember that. Always.”
With a trembling hand, Yoongi patted Woozi’s arm. “Thank you, Woozi.”
“Anytime.”
“Go on,” he urged Woozi to follow the little crowd that was standing at the door. “Have fun.”
“Take care, hyung.”
“Yeah.”
A loud uproar of laughter caught their attention, everyone’s eyes on Minhyuk who appeared to be flustered, shaking his hands violently with a wide, embarrassed grin on his face.
“Minhyuk-ah!” Kihyun yelled out in surprise. “Really?”
“No, no!” Minhyuk laughed heartily, firmly denying it. “I don’t!”
“I know you do!” Mingyu accused him with a deep smirk, pointing a finger right in his face. “You do have a girlfriend!”
“I don’t, guys!” The man blushed furiously, shaking his hands desperately as if that would make everyone believe him.
“Ooooooooo!” Everyone hollered at the revelation, not believing the innocent victim’s words at all. “Who is she?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend! Mingyu is lying—”
Woozi patted Yoongi on the back again.
“They’re quite loud, aren’t they?”
With a watery smile, Yoongi shook his head.
“I’ve quite missed the noise.”
~
Sat in the corner of the room
Everything's reminding me of you
Nursing an empty bottle
And telling myself you're happier, aren't you?
“(Y/n).”
The air was light, something floating around seamlessly over the two of you. Seated on the floor with a low wooden table that held a plate of half-eaten mushroom tartlets and two wine glasses, a bottle of Skinnygirl Moscato stood tall in between both of you.
“Is that really what you thought of me?”
“You really were such a party-pooper, Yoongi.”
“Says the person who locked herself in the bathroom for an hour after singing one song in front of everyone!”
“That was embarrassing! I was basically squeaking like a duck that had a rock stuck in its throat.”
“Nah,” Yoongi chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. “You were great.”
“Was not. But you really ruined the party that day, not me.” With a pout, you glared at him playfully.
“How did I do that?”
“What’s the whole point of a party? You spend time with your friends, drink, have fun, eat some good food, get drunk, do shit that you regret, and never speak of it again. But you!” An accusing finger poked Yoongi’s chest.
“You really showed us your true colors that day, grandpa.”
“Grandpa?” Yoongi guffawed with a dramatic slap to his thigh. “What the heck!”
“Yup. You were so calm even though you drank most of the whiskey that Jimin brought, and that poor fellow was falling to the floor because he wanted to show us one dance move, but he was too drunk to stand.”
Yoongi nodded with a laugh, reaching into the plate and picking up a tartlet.
“Argh, Jiminie, that guy is cool.”
“And you were not so cool. You literally began to lecture him for drinking so much and then you made him and Taehyung cry.”
“I did?” he giggled sheepishly.
“Yup. You scolded them for always being the loudest. Poor guys.” You clicked your tongue. “Do you remember what you told them that day?”
Yoongi shook his head. “Enlighten me, ma’am.”
“You put your glass down and got all serious and looked at Jin and Namjoon and went, ‘Argh…I’ve been having these headaches, they come and they go…’ and we all we so focused on what you were about to say next.”
“And then?” Yoongi already began to bite back his laughter.
“And then Jimin and Taehyung walked back into the room and you went, ‘There! It’s back again!’”
Yoongi almost snorted at that, bending forward to hide his head, giggling uncontrollably with shaking shoulders. “No way.”
“Yes way, Grandpa Min,” you chuckled with an enamored shake of your head.
“But why would you call me a grandpa for that?”
“I think that was an impression that stuck with me for a long time. I didn’t know you that well back then. My lord—” you wondered out loud. “Was that really six years ago?”
“Time flies. And it brought us here. You, single and probably not so ready to mingle, sitting here and drinking with me, a grandpa who ruins parties and scolds my friends.”
You sniffed. “Right.”
“Do you like this wine?” Yoongi asked you curiously.
Taking in a sip, you smiled fondly at the white wine swirling around in your glass.
“No.”
Yoongi scoffed, shaking his head at you. “Why did you bring this then?”
“Hmm…” you appeared to be deep in thought. “No reason.”
“Did you maybe…” a light smirk played at the corner of his lips, “want to make this evening a little more romantic?”
“Romantic?” you parroted lamely, caught red-handed. “No?”
“Aye,” he nudged your knee with his toes. “Liar.”
“Am not. The bottle looked pretty so I picked it up.”
“Really?” Yoongi’s head fell back with laughter. “You picked it up just because it looked pretty?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, what if I…” Yoongi shuffled around, getting up with a grunt and dusting off his hands.
“What if you what?”
“What if I…” He smirked evilly, swooping down and slipping one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back, lifting you up and against his chest, “...picked you up too?”
“Yoongi!” you screeched, desperately clutching onto the collar of his shirt. “Put me down!”
“Why? I should get a fair chance too.”
Your eyes widened. “To do what?”
“To pick up what I think looks pretty.”
Oh-
Rendered speechless, you looked into his eyes that sparkled under the yellow lights that lined the ceiling, a hint of mischief and a stroke of honesty shining brightly in those dark brown orbs of his. Yoongi chuckled at your lack of response, clearly amused by the effect he had on you.
“You’re blushing.”
“Am not.”
“Your cheeks are pink.”
You gasped, covering them and crying dramatically. “No!”
“They’re probably warm too. That’s what happens when you blush.”
“They’re not-” you paused. “How would you even know they’re warm? Have you blushed before?”
“No. I can see it.”
“You can’t see heat, Yoongi,” you deadpanned. “You have to feel it.”
“My hands are a little busy right now,” he gestured towards your body that he was still holding up. “Maybe I’ll have to work my way around it.”
“How?”
“Look at that window,” his head pointed to the French windows in front of you. The reflection of him carrying you left you feeling even more flustered, but you blinked and willed yourself to focus. Just as you were about to ask him what he wanted you to do next, the words got stuck in your throat.
As if in slow motion, you watched his reflection lean forward towards your face, lips slightly puckered into a pout that was clearly visible against the glass window before they landed against your cheek. You froze completely, eyes still trained on his reflection that didn’t move, his lips soft against the flaming skin on your cheek.
And just like that, he pulled away.
“You are blushing.”
You blinked, too stunned to reply.
“Your ears are red too.”
Breath in, you thought.
“Do you want me to feel them?”
Breath out-
“Is your lipstick maroon or red?”
Don’t pass out.
“I’ve been wondering if your lips dry up when you get flustered. Should I check?”
Almost robotically, your head turned to face him.
“Are they heating up too?”
Maybe it would be okay to pass out.
“You’re blushing again.”
Okay (Y/n), play dead.
And maybe you should have, because the next thing you knew, Yoongi was placing you back down on the floor. A pang of disappointment pulled your eyebrows into a frown.
“Let me get you some ice to cool you down.”
You stood frozen in your place as Yoongi began to make his way into the kitchen, too numb to stop him and ask him; what the hell was that?
Had you made it too obvious that you liked him?
Was he pulling your leg and teasing you for that?
Was he… for real?
“No, no, no…” you shook your head, reassuring yourself that you were probably overthinking. Yoongi could never like you. It had been six years and he had made sure everyone knew that you were just a good friend. A friend that had always been there for him, a friend who cooked with him, a friend who went fishing with him and put up with him whenever he made a fuss, a friend who liked to massage his shoulders and back when he was too stressed, a friend who ate almost every meal with him, a friend who…fell in love with him along the way. You didn’t really have much time to think because Yoongi’s whistle alerted you of his return.
You blinked lamely as Yoongi made his way back to you, lips somehow glistening as if he had washed them. Looking down, he came back to you empty-handed.
“Where’s the ice?” you croaked, clearing your throat soon after.
“Here.” His hands were wet, fingers dripping with water when they pointed up to his mouth.
His hands were…cold. Freezing, if you will.
That was the first observation you made when they came in contact with your cheeks, a little squeak of surprise coming from you at the sensation. Icy hands against your cheeks that were burning up by the second, Yoongi smiled.
The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, meeting your own with a gentle, almost comforting gaze before they fluttered closed.
And that’s when you found out that his lips were really cold too.
Almost as if he had run an ice-cube over them, but that did not last too long. When his lips initially touched yours, it was as if you warmed them up in an instant, soothing the numbing sting that you didn’t know he had experienced briefly in the kitchen to help facilitate his little plan. His palms were still flat against your cheeks but they didn’t stay that way for too long either. One slipped further past your ears and into your hair, went fingers giving him a better grip that held you firmly to him.
The other hand dropped lower, a shiver running down your spine when his icy fingertips danced along the length of your throat, finally flattening it there and resting the base of his wrist against the crook of your neck.
He tugged you in closer, eyes sealed closed and bodies burning with passion, kissing you like that had been his motive all along. Lips that were making its home against yours moved fluidly, almost as if they had a mind of their own, skilfully pulling in your bottom lip before carefully letting his teeth graze them.
Teasing you.
Giving you a taste of what you had been missing and what you no longer needed to miss. Getting a taste of you and reveling in the sensation of it. Loving every tiny sound that he pulled from you and reciprocating with passionate groans of his own. Showing you that there was no other place you needed to be.
Rather, showing you that you were finally home.
A home that he had broken.
A home that he missed.
A home that he couldn’t find a way back to.
Yoongi had almost laughed, pitying himself when the glass slipped from his hands and onto the floor beside his thigh, a clean cut that separated the body of the glass from a small piece that broke off. The ice began to melt, the cotton material of his grey joggers darkening when it absorbed a little bit of the whiskey that splattered onto it. He looked down at it with a watery smile, tears falling perpendicularly and forming tiny circle waves as they dripped straight into the little puddle of alcohol on the floor.
Had he really done that?
The way the glass had broken was the way he pictured how he had hurt you. A clean slash through your heart. A wound that time could stitch back.
Not too many scars to hide.
Not too much effort to heal.
But the pain that tugged at his heart said otherwise. It spoke volumes, screaming at him and showing him his reflection in the mirror saying look! This is what she felt when you shattered her heart.
Yoongi clutched at his chest, the material of his t-shirt bunching up within his grasp, a low gasp escaping his throat before a long line of saliva began to drip past his lower lip. He was too drunk to notice how horrible he looked, but he wasn’t drunk enough to wash away the pain that was killing him from inside.
The three empty bottles of whiskey that lay beside him hadn’t been enough. He thought it would, but it hadn’t been enough.
His ex-girlfriend who killed a part of him that he didn’t even know about hadn’t been enough, either.
The punches that Jimin threw at him and the disappointment that was painted across each of his member’s faces hadn’t been enough.
He deserved to rot in hell.
He deserved to be punished for what he had done to you but somehow the punishment wasn’t enough.
Because only you had been.
Only you had been enough.
You had been more than enough.
For him.
So with a shaky hand and a strangled cry, he opened up the contact list of his phone. A bang resounded through the kitchen when his head fell back against the marbled counter, barely registering the pain and almost dropping the phone before his trembling fingers pushed it against his earlobe.
He had enough.
Yoongi needed someone.
Yoongi didn’t want to be alone anymore.
And the little sound that alerted him that the phone had been picked up lifted the corners of his lips into a faint smile.
“Eomma.”
.
.
.
.
.
Continue Reading 📄
Taglist: Requested by @persefoneniverse
@somewhereinthestarss, @belladaises, @readwithlivvy, @taelici0us @koalasandcuddles @aria-grace-scott, @introlxv
#min yoongi angst#yoongi angst#suga angst#bts angst#bts min yoongi angst#bts x reader#min yoongi x reader#happier#olivia rodrigo angst#blue and gray#kihyun#minhyuk#minhyuk angst#woozi#jimin angst#yoongi fluff#bts imagines#bts angst imagines#yoongi angst imagines#suga angst imagines
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╔══════════════╗
AOT SQUIRTING HEADCANONS
╚══════════════╝
request by: @multi-fandoms-stuff
"can I pretty request an imagine for aot eren, erwin, levi, connie, armin, jean, reiner, bertolt, ymir, and mikasa about them making there s/o squirt for the first time and there reaction, have the reader get all shy and trys to hide her face??"
notes: ahhh thank you so much for requesting, again im very sorry for the delay and late update, im back on writing now!
warnings: smut, squirting, overstimulation, bodily fluids
.・゜゜・ ・゜゜・．
Eren Jeager:
You and Eren have got it going on for a few hours with him and his titan stamina plunging into you without letting you rest for a minute. You haven't even kept track of how long it's been or how many times he's made you cum that night, only focusing on his cock stretching you open and the way he is holding your throat. It's not long until your next orgasm arrives but oh, this time it feels different and suddenly you're squirting all over him and his cock as he keeps fucking you deeper and harder.
"Eren, I need to clean up, Im so sorry I didn't know this would happen, oh my-" You wail while pushing your hands over your face but instead of him stopping he just snaps his hips against yours harder and says:
"No. You're doing it again" Needless to say, you do, indeed.
Erwin Smith:
On your break you had snuck inside Erwin's office to steal a couple of kisses which soon ended up with you laying on the table all over his paperwork and him taking out his emotions on your poor pussy, to the point where you swear someone's going to walk in with a noise complain- not just due to your loud moans- but also due to the fact that his unsteady table is repeatedly creaking on the wooden floor.
"Erwin, I'm so close, Erwin I-ERWIN" You scream as you realize what is actually happening and not being able to hold it in. Both of you are freaking the fuck out. On any other situation he would find this really hot and treat you so good for squirting on him but you just came all over important papers which needed to be delivered awfully soon and neither has zero idea of what the hell you're supposed to do now. You freaking out must have been even louder than your sex noises and now you're adamant that everyone heard.
This was a different walk of shame
Levi Ackerman:
He had just changed the sheets to your shared bedroom when you walked in half naked after your shower, instantly igniting something inside him. The past few weeks had been really tiring for both and the only way to take your exhaustion away was having you bounce on his cock until you were in tears and shaking.
"You're gonna cum baby? I'm so fucking close too" He whispered in your ear like a lullaby in-between heavy breaths as he moved your hair out of your face and locked his eyes with yours. His movements were so gentle and passionate until you both grew desperate for your release and soon he was guiding your hips faster and sloppier while smacking your ass. It wasn't long until you started shaking while he filled you up. After you both came down from your highs you gained awareness of your surroundings and immediately shrunk to yourself.
"What are you hiding away for?"
"You just changed the sheets"
"I can always put another ones" He said awkwardly as you tried to shift away from his lap, when he pulled you right back in "It would be a shame if i changed them while they're only this wet. We might as well just ruin them completely"
Connie Springer:
Sasha and Jean were sleeping on the couch next to you after a nice dinner and Connie was feeling really turned on, right from the start of the night when you felt his fingers creeping up inside your panties and circling over your clit before teasing their way inside.
"Can we at least go somewhere isolated? I feel bad for-" You choked trying not to make a sound as his finger where now dipping in and out of your cunt in a desperate need of feeling your walls clench around them "Connie-"
"It's too comfy here, try to be more quiet baby" He whispered back as he lifted your skirt and pushed his tip inside not letting it all in but rather slipping it in and then pulling out and rubbing on your clit until you felt yourself cumming. Hard.
You were trying so hard to not make a noise until you realized what actually happened and turned around to look at your boyfriend in shock with heat rising up your cheeks. This cheeky motherfucker was looking back at you with the biggest smirk before plunging his entire length inside. Definitely proud of himself... And you definetely have to clean up before a) Jean and/or Sasha wake up b) Captain Levi haunts your dreams.
Jean Kirschstein:
Jean and you had been sent on different expenditions for the week so it was safe to say that you really missed spending time with each other. And him inside you.
Once he closes his room's door he already has you pushed against the wall and taking you right there while standing up. Jean is the romantic type but missing you made him desperate for your touch. You were sure you were seeing stars at one point, the way he pressed against you was magnificent and it just kept getting better and better until you felt the bubble inside you burst and soon your juices were everywhere on the floor. Everywhere.
You instantly felt like hiding away and audibly apologized while he still fucked the shit out of you. Confused he started slowing down and voiced his concern over your sudden apology until he realized what went down and blushed. 'Thats it, its over' you thought. Suddenly the most unexpected thing happened. A huge smile crept on his face "I made you squirt! Oh my god you look so hot, I bet Eren would never be able to make a girl sq-" He exclaimed before you kicked his leg.
Armin Arlet:
Armin is such a sweet young man. He had you laid on the bed for him as he slowly fucked into you, gasping in between kisses and telling you just how much he loves you. Gaining more confidence in yourself your moans became louder and louder and soon his pace changed into sharp and quick thrusts.
Your orgasm hit you like a freight train and cherished the way he was the one to make you scream and breathe like that. He felt so blessed that you chose him as the man to have inside your velvet walls and-
Why is the bed wet? Did the rain get through the wooden roof? Why are you trying to hide away? Armin genuinely had no clue.
"Is everything okay baby? Do you feel uncomfortable with the waters?" He asked as more color rose up to your cheeks, refusing to look in his eyes as you awkwardly tried to explain what had happened was not a leak in the roof "What did you say?"
"I squirted"
"Oh"
"Yes"
"This is way more exciting than a leaking roof...Way more"
Reiner Braun:
Reiner is an emotional man and it shows when you get intimate with each other. One time he has you on all fours, with a finger deep in your asshole as he rails your guts.
"Noone else can fuck you like that fuck- what is it baby, is there anyone else that will fuck you this good? Have you crying from their cock? Use your words princess come on" He gasped as his own tears were threatening to fall, seeking emotional validation as well as pleasure as you tried to form a coherent sentence while sobbing "Didn't think so darling, you're such a whore for me"
And in the heat of the moment the offspring of his actions and words erupted from your throat as a loud scream and your juices squirted all over his lap for the first time. The sighting made Reiner cum in an instant and neither had the energy to talk about it, until he embraced you tightly from behind and thanked you for allowing him to be with you and sharing your most vulnerable moment with him.
Berthold Hoover:
His cock felt so good as you bounced on it . In a way it was therapeutic and for the past 7 minutes you've been in this position you've felt constantly on the edge and your thighs burned until sweet release washed you over and soon you were clasping poor Bert's shoulders as you screamed and squirted all over him while he pulled his dick out of your spent pussy and slapped its head on your clit as he watched more liquid come out.
After your orgasm died down a little, instant shame washed over you and you tried hopping away before he hugged you tightly and swayed you without realizing that hes accidentally rubbing you on his cock again and that you are about to pass out....
Ymir:
Ymir is a big tease. A really big one. Proof being her refusing to finally push her fingers inside your soaked slit, instead choosing to just rub up and down while slipping half an inch inside before you grew desperate and moved your own fingers to your clit and rubbing vigorously.
"Fuck" You heard her exclaim before plunging two of her fingers inside "Don't stop touching yourself baby, wanna make you cum like that" She commanded as her fingers dove in and out as fast as she could while you screamed under her touch. Your orgasm came fast and before you knew it, Ymir was soaking wet with your juices . "Never knew my girl could squirt, makes me wish I ate you out instead" She says before diving in.
Mikasa Ackerman:
It was a quiet night with Mika as you laid on your bed next to each other. Your conversation ended with your fingers in her pussy and hers in yours. Both struggled with the pace as you chased your release and her moans in your ear caused you to lose control and instantly let go and clench around her fingers as clear liquid soaked the sheets right beneath you and she turned her head to look at you in awe.
"I'm so sorry Mikasa I didn't know this would-"
"Do you think I can do this too?" She asked with flushed cheeks and an innocent look on her face.
"Eh? Squirt?" You asked and before she had the chance to nod you took out the dildo from your drawer and plunged it deep into her dripping pussy.
#erwin smith#eren jeager#levi ackerman#armin arlet#jean kirstein#connie springer#berthold hoover#reiner braun#ymir#mikasa#erwin smith x reader#eren jeager x reader#levi x reader#jean x reader#connie x reader#armin arlet x reader#ymir x reader#mikasa ackerman x reader#aot#attack on titan#snk#shingeki no kyoujin#aot x reader#snk x reader#smut#aot smut#aot headcanons#eren smut#levi smut
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💕 shaving kink. I can't believe that even something as simple as shaving can cause so much horny 😩 There can be anything here. His girl is just there only watching his shave, she asks him to shave him, Bucky asks her to shave him etc
𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔
Summary: based on the request
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings: smut, cockwarming, creampie, unprotected sex, further implied smut, mentions of death, fluff
Word Count: 1333
Masterlist Link
The mirror implied everything that he was about to do as he slathered shaving cream onto the bottom half of his face, over his beard that had grown out a decent amount over the course of his last mission. Bucky wanted his face to look smooth and clean, he usually allowed his stubble to grow a little, but never too much. He knew that you were a fan of his rugged and disorganised appearance, not to mention the delicious burn that would scathe the inside of your thighs whenever he went to town to fulfil his appetite, which was practically the entire endurance of his free time outside of avenging. The pitter patter of your bare feet along the ground alerted him, allowing him to expect you to enter your shared bathroom; he saw your reflection walk until you were behind him, your body blocked from view as he continued to gaze forwards. Your arms interlocked around his waist, as a content smile tugged at his pink lips.
It felt like he could stay like this forever, trapped in the bliss of your tender embrace. A frown paved a shadow across his expression when you released him from your wrist touching clasp, enough it soon lightened as you reeled to the front of his visual perspective, and sat up on the countertop in front of the mirror. “You look good with a completely white beard.” Swiping your finger over the barrier of foam that coated the lower half of his face, you tapped it against his nose, to which he rubbed off on the back of his hand. “You’re so sexy.” Biting your lip, your eyes advanced to his hands, which grasped the blade that he was planning to use to scrape the applied shaving cream and follicles on his face out by their roots. Despite the modern age which supplied razors, it granted Bucky comfort to do things the old fashioned way. Though he still made an effort to learn about the various forms of technology, he still preferred the company and use of old cliches, such as record players and radios. They matched his tastes, which were as fine and timeless as wine. The slip of silver that he danced between the fence of his fingers raised, the blade between his pads as he jutted the handle to tap at the curve of your chin.
“Fancy shaving for me doll face?” The husky tone to his words caused your breath to clog in your throat, though you were certainly not going to decline the trustworthy offer. It made you swell with pride, that the man that had once been brainwashed into being a world renowned assassin, and a target on the government’s most wanted, had an endless abyss of faith in you. With certain hands, you plucked the possible weapon out from his grip, and into your own. It was light, and could do many things, like change Bucky’s face in multiple ways. “Try not to slit my throat, otherwise you’ll be the one left to clean that mess up.” He prematurely warned you, to which you gently kicked his shin, reducing the smug tendency off from his face.
“Shut up Barnes and let me do my job.” Was what you told him as you spread your legs further, so that there was room to accommodate him between them. And as expected, he shuffled closer, to which you responded by grabbing purchase upon his face, as you stroked a line with the sharp edge down his throat. You repeated the action a couple more times, cleaning the blade after each pursuit on the towel that was resting beside you. Bucky’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to cool himself, and not think about how attractive you appeared to him. He allowed you to carry in for a few minutes, until he got tired of just standing there, and began to tug at your shorts, causing you to stop your progress of shaving for him. “Quit trying to distract me Buck, otherwise you’ll have a massive scar from your lip to your jaw.” He simply sighed, rolling his eyes as he without conviction, pulled the material down, coercing you to squeal from subjected shock.
“Loosen up doll, or better yet, let me loosen you up.” He pushed his sweats down, causing his erection to slap up against his pebbled abs, though he frowned as you went to place the blade down. “Oh no, you’re multitasking baby, you’re gonna run that down my face as i stretch you out.” It was a risk, one that had you nervously gulping, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away. Instead he braced his hands upon your knees as he pushed into you, slowly pressing inch by inch into your heat, and leaving you to adjust a time that you would say was too long (no pun intended).
“Move.” Was your order, and Bucky simply tutted you, tapping the back of your hand, hinting that if you wanted him to do anything other than cockwarming, you’d have to finish your project. And thus you rasped the metal against the layer atop of his skin, and raked it down until you could see the smooth exterior of his flesh. It was difficult to diffuse all of your attention onto focusing on not causing Bucky to bleed, when all that your mind ran over was how full you felt from being stuffed by his hard dick. What made it significantly harder was when he began to move, to which your hands lightly shook. You were almost finished anyways, in concerns of removing all the hair from his face and staving off your high. It was a simultaneous struggle, and in the end, you allowed the blade to fall in the empty sink, as you clutched onto his taught shoulders.
And that, you giving up and surrendering to your primal desires made Bucky do the same. He thrust you back against the mirror as he leant and rested his hips against the edge of the bathroom unit. To anyone else that’d have been an uncomfortable position to be in, but the soldier just did, not care about that, nor the remnants of shaving foam that accessorised his complexion. He threw his vibranium hand against the mirror, smashing it behind you as his flesh hand grabbed your hip, rutting you against your abdomen, your clit getting stimulated by the fine hairs below his v line. The pair of you were drawing closer to the equivalent of your highs as your breaths laboured, and you rabidly found each other’s mouths, spearing your tongues alongside one another.
With one particularly harsh thrust you saw stars in your peripheral sight, and Bucky bucked against you, relishing and extending the bliss of his engaged orgasm. “I thought you wanted me to shave your face?” A breathy laugh fled from your lips as he remained inside of you, cocking your brow towards him. “We both knew how this was going to turn out doll.” He responded, grabbing the clean side of the shaving towel just as he was about to pull out from the lack of your cunt. “Though I actually have to finish shaving now.”
“Do you want me to help?” You lifted your hips as he pulled out, his cum leaking from your folds, as you reached down and inserted your fingers into your entrance, pushing his seed back inside of you. Bucky intently watched, licking his lips as he drank down his saliva, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, swirling his wet muscle around in the constrictions of your mouth, attempting to toy with your tonsils. “That sounds like a round two to me…” he suggested, making a part of you felt like you were never going to leave this bathroom, but by no means was that a complaint. You could stay in here until Bucky’s face was completely shaven, and that could be quite the while. Just as well you had plenty of free time.
Bucky Tags: @tylard-blog1 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @kaitieskidmore1
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes ff#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fluff#imagines#imagine#xreader#marvel x reader#marvel smut#sebastian stan fic#sebastian stan smut#Bucky Barnes#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes oneshots#mcu smut#marvel imagines
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*Kiss Me Sweetly
Tendou x f!reader
Angst with a happy ending, excessive fluff, friends to lovers, smut, dry humping
4.4k words
The demon of Shiratorizawa had crimson hair and eyes to match. He was tall, composed of long limbs and sharp angles. His eyes were perpetually half-lidded and droopy with dark bags. He had a crooked smile made up of pointed teeth and a silver tongue that frequently got him in trouble with the school staff and students alike.
He wasn’t actually a demon, a nickname branded to him by cruel children in elementary school. He wasn’t a monster either, despite popular belief. Although he had learned to embraced his title as the Guess Monster, even learned to love the respect that came with it from his opponents. In the end, however, Tendou Satori was just tired. Tired of the people at this school, tired of the nicknames that stalked him though the halls, and tired of you.
You, who never stooped to your peers level with half-brained insults and nicknames. You, who had smiled and said hello every time you saw him since elementary. You, who encouraged him to pursue volleyball, the only thing he felt powerful doing. You, who sat through his seemingly endless chatter with an interested smile. You, you, you and your kind smiles, soft words, and gentle curves.
It wasn’t until high school that you started sitting with him at lunch. Eventually lunch transitioned into getting coffee every Monday after school. Then the coffee hangouts progressed to going to your house and reading the latest manga he was interested in every Friday.
Each moment with you was a breath held in anticipation for the other shoe to finally drop. When were you just going to get it all over with and stop acting like you cared about him? Enough of the pity, please. No more shared lunches. Stop giving him your notes when he fell asleep in class. He was exhausted for you.
Sometimes he let himself believe you. That you actually cared for him and enjoyed being around him. He convinced himself that your laughter was genuine when he teased you and made sardonic jokes about the world. He could go months relishing in your friendship before remembering it wasn’t real.
Being around him certainly didn’t benefit you. He had heard plenty of the rumors and he know you did as well.
I heard that he’s so controlling she’s too scared to actually leave him.
We aren’t even together, he thought viciously.
Well, I heard that she only puts up with him because she feels bad. Seriously, who actually wants to hang around that freak .
He wanted to scream that he knew. He knew you pitied him. He wanted you to leave but you never got the goddamn hint. You stuck by his side all through high school and now it was the last day and you were still here. Sitting next to him, sharing his earbuds. You could’ve walked home ages ago, but you were adamant about waiting at the train station until he got picked up.
“You can stop now,” he said, setting you free.
“Hm?” You looked up from your phone. “Oh, do you want to play your music?”
“No, you can leave,” he snapped. “No one is looking at you anymore; no one cares. You don’t have to be here with me.”
“Tendu-chan, I don’t understand,” your pretty lips were turned down in a frown.
“I don’t need you,” he lied. “You don’t have to be here to make me feel better. It’s over, we move on now and we forget about it.”
“What are you talking about?” Your voice was soft, confused.
“I don’t need your pity,” he said, finally getting the words off his chest after all these years. “I know you only stuck around because you felt bad for me. But I don’t need it anymore, high school is over. I don’t need you to hang out with me because you feel bad.”
His eyes were closed, and he relished in the peace of finally, finally spitting it out.
“Is that what you think?”
His eyes snapped open. You were angry? You should be happy. Happy you finally have an excuse to get away. A clear exit.
“Fuck you, Tendou,” you stood up, throwing his headphones at his chest. “That’s what you really think of me? That I just pity you? You think I’m so shallow that I hung around you to make myself feel better? Is that what you think?”
You stopped, sucking in a steadying breath while he stared up at you in shock. Yes, that’s exactly what he had thought.
“I-”
“No,” you cut him off swiftly. “You’ve said enough. I’m leaving. You can talk to me when you get your head out of your ass.”
Tendou watched you walk away until you disappeared around a corner. He had been wrong? But he almost always guessed right… right?
Had he really been so consumed by his self-loathing that he had misread the intentions of the one person who cared the most for him?
“Oh,” he let his head fall back against the bench and stared at the bright sky until his eyes watered.
Not many had witnessed it, but the demon of Shiratorizawa was indeed just a person. A person with emotions, as disguised as they may be. He hid behind this personality he’d crafted. The carefree, loud, perpetually cheerful demeanor that protected him from his peers and their wicked words. It had never protected him from you though. You saw through it as if it were glass, just a window to his misery.
“Oh,” he said again, standing up slowly. “I see now.”
He boarded the train and rested his forehead against the window, watching dark storm clouds creep over the city with the silence of a cat stalking its prey.
How fitting, for it to rain, he thought as the first drops splattered against the window.
—-
After three sharp knocks on your door, Tendou stepped back and held his peace offering close to his chest. He knew you were home because your rust bucket of a Toyota was parked in the driveway. His fingers tapped the plastic bag impatiently and it was nearly impossible to ignore the way his heart jumped when the door cracked open slowly.
“Ah, I see you’ve managed to pull your head free. Was it difficult?” You asked flatly, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.
“Immensely, took Wakatoshi three bottles of lube,” he said earnestly.
You cracked a small smile, eyes flitting to the plastic bag in his arms. You raised an eyebrow as a silent question.
“Can I come in?” He asked. “It’s awfully cold out here, you don’t want me to catch a cold now, eh Y/n-chan?”
“Maybe I do,” you said, stepping aside to let him in.
“How cruel of you!” Tendou gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned offense.
He stepped into your entrance way and you were quickly reminded just how tall he was. His lankiness only made him look taller as he loomed over you, eyebrows drawn together in determination. You stared back, suddenly nervous in the presence of your friend.
“I’m sorry for misjudging you,” he said, intense red eyes still locked on yours. “It was wrong and unfair of me to make such harsh assumptions.”
You weren’t used to him being this serious. He was always intense but the two combined were overwhelming.
“Let’s sit down and eat whatever you’ve brought,” you said, stepping around him to walk to the kitchen. “Then we can talk, yeah?”
He followed so close he accidentally kicked your heels a few times and you could still feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck. He set the bag on the table and unpacked the to-go containers.
“It’s from that place you really like,” he said. “By the school.”
“Oh, thank you, Tendou.” You accepted the chopsticks he held out.
Tendou gasped dramatically. “Such formalities, Y/n-chan!”
“Tendu-chan, then,” you corrected yourself.
“Much better,” he said praisingly.
He sat down across from you, eating only a few pieces of chicken before setting his utensils aside. He didn’t say anything, even as you ate your fill. It was clear he was antsy, fingers tapping a staccato beat against the table.
When you finally slid your plate to the side he scooted forward, resting his face in his palms expectantly.
“I forgive you,” you said simply.
Tendou’s signature manic grin took over his entire face and his long fingers tapped a rapid beat on the table in his excitement. Oh, how he had missed you during the two weeks he spent giving you space. He had never realized how much he enjoyed your presence until it abruptly disappeared. Tendou’d also had a few other revelations during the separation.
He said your name softly, so at odds with his typically loud demeanor. He was his most authentic self in your presence, he had come to realize. You looked up from packing up the remaining food and tilted your head.
“We are still friends, right?” He asked with a tinge of nervousness.
“Were we ever?” You countered, not angrily.
“Yes,” Tendou answered quickly, reaching out to grab your hand. “Of course, it was my mistake to ever think otherwise.”
You looked down at his hand on yours and ran a finger over the wrappings he kept on his two fingers. He watched you keenly, fingers twitching at your delicate touch.
“My, my,” he said with a sly grin. “What is little Y/n thinking about?”
You shot him a bland look, dropping his hand pointedly. “You’re disgusting.”
Just like that any tension between the two of you vanished with his boisterous laugh. He wiggled his wrapped fingers in your face enticingly until you smacked them away.
“I brought the latest chapter Shonen Jump,” he said animatedly, reaching into his bag. “I thought we could read it together.”
It was a Friday, after all.
“Sure, let me put this food up,” you said.
Tendou grinned eagerly, bouncing to his feet while you brought the food to the fridge; already talking a mile a minute about a different manga he had just finished. You couldn’t stop the smile that worked its way onto your face, you loved his aimless rambling. Where you more reserved, Tendou was outgoing and could fill any gaps in the conversation you left behind. It worked well for the two of you.
While watching Tendou chatter away you wondered if you had been too harsh at the train station. Clearly there was an underlying insecurity that convinced him you didn’t care about him. Was it his history of bullying? Before you had really gotten to know Tendou, it was hard to imagine him as anything but carefree and untouchable. You knew he would tell you eventually. Perhaps today, perhaps tomorrow. Over the past few years you had found the best way to get Tendou to open up was to say nothing at all, his rambling always ended up on touchy topics anyways.
Tendou held out an earbud for you once you sat down on the couch beside him. You placed it in your ear and smiled when you recognized the playlist the two of you had put together. The only time Tendou could stay quiet longer than five minutes was when he was reading. You settled into the familiar routine, sitting close to him while he angled the pages towards you so you could both read. Tendou was such a fast reader you were forced to learn to speed read as well in order to keep up with him. Now, you were perfectly synchronized.
Today, however, he couldn’t stop glancing over at you. Ugh, he suddenly so acutely aware of everything you did. Every time you shifted to see a panel or readjusted the earbud he felt his heart pickup and he was too aware of every movement he made. His limbs felt too long and awkward, his face felt too warm, and oh my god did he brush his teeth this morning?
Tendou swallowed nervously, for once relieved for the chapter to finally end so he could put some space between your bodies. He stood up abruptly, wincing when the earbud was ripped out of his ear.
“Ow,” you held your ear. “Is something wrong, Tendu-chan?”
“Of course not, dearest Y/N,” he put on his widest grin, bowing down and extending his hand. Fuck, your nickname for him was not helping his nerves. “I was just wondering if you would like to accompany me to the bathroom.”
“Ew, what is wrong with you?” You smacked his hand away.
“Well, you did ask,” he chirped cheerfully before prancing down the hall.
You sighed, replacing the earbud while settling into a more comfortable position. After several minutes you realized Tendou had yet to return. Frowning, you stood up and went to the bathroom to find the door still closed.
“Tendu-chan?” You knocked softly. “Everything okay?”
“Oh, Y/N,” Tendou popped his head out from your bedroom. “I was looking at your photo wall.”
You raised your eyebrows, following him inside. “Yeah? I have quite a few.”
It had been a hobby of yours to have at least three pictures of each of yours friends on your wall since elementary school. Since you started hanging out with Tendou at the beginning of high school, his section had amassed a great deal of photos.
“I forget you’ve never been in here,” you smiled, watching Tendou closely.
You had never seen such an open expression on his face before. His eyes flicked over the photos of him taped to your wall quickly, as if he couldn’t decide which to focus on.
“I didn’t realize,” he said softly.
“Hm?”
He tilted his head back, sliding his eyes to look at you. “I didn’t realize I still had a safe place, a paradise.”
“You’ll always be welcome here, Satori,” you reached out and squeezed his bicep. “I promise.”
“I feel so blind, Y/N,” he closed his eyes, head still tipped back as he took in a slow, study breath. “I thought I had lost everything when volleyball ended. My friends, my passion…”
Crimson eyes locked on your own, the intensity of them so startling you sucked in a sharp breath.
“But I still have you,” Tendou said, slowly turning his body to face yours. “Right?”
“Of course,” you answered.
“Good,” he nodded. “Good.”
His head turned back towards your wall of photos, fingers reaching out to snag at the bottom of one. You looked closer and saw it was a picture of the two of you at one of his games. You had jumped onto his back to hug him and your friend had barely managed to get the shot. The blurry grins on your faces were bright and excited.
“Can I?” He asked, tugging lightly on the corner.
“Take it, I can print a new one.” You said.
He peeled it off carefully and flashed a grin at you.
“Thank you,” he reached out, placing his hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair messily.
You knocked his hand away and brushed your hair back into place with a huff. Tendou laughed loudly, sprawling backwards onto your bed with a thump. He looked at the picture once more before sliding it into his pocket. He folded his hands behind his head and looked up at you with his signature sleepy smirk.
“Make yourself comfortable, I guess,” you said.
“Aw, you’re so considerate,” Tendou crooned, stretching his arms out until his shirt road up to reveal his toned stomach.
You glanced down at the exposed skin and blushed, looking away quickly. Tendou noticed, of course, and couldn’t stop the mischievous smirk on his face as he reached out and grabbed your hand.
“Tendou-“
“Oh, hush,” he chastised lightly. “I’m just getting you to sit. This is your bed, after all.”
You sat down on the edge, watching as he pulled your hand to his chest. He examined your fingers faintly before weaving his fingers with yours. When your fingers spasmed nervously he gripped them tighter.
“I had a lot of time to think,” he sighed, eyes still fixated on your joined hands, before elaborating. “While we were apart.”
You stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue with bated breath.
“I like you, Y/N,” his eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul.
“Tendu-chan-“ You started to pull your fingers away.
One second you were sitting at the edge of the bed and the next you were pinned beneath Tendou’s body. His breath tickled your lips and his hands kept your arms above your head by the wrists.
“Please, let me say this,” he pleaded, eyes switching between yours and your lips.
“You made high school bearable for me,” he said, pushing up until he was knelt between your legs instead of having you pinned. His hands rested on either side of your ribs. “I didn’t appreciate you enough at the time but-“
His fingers clenched in the sheets. “I do now, I appreciate you so much. Everyone else thought I was a monster, demon, whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore but when it did you were the only one who made it all easier. Does that make sense?”
“What about Ushijima? Your teammates?”
Tendou chuckled, letting his head droop between his shoulders. “Of course them, silly Y/N. They didn’t really have a choice, hm? I was on the team, you don’t really get to pick who’s there. You went out of your way to befriend me, to make sure I was okay before you even knew me.”
You looked up at him, ignoring his little sniffle and the way he rubbed his nose against his sleeve subtly. You sat up slowly while Tendou watched you closely with his head tilted.
“You’re my best friend, you know that right?” You asked softly.
He nodded.
“You will always be welcome in my home and I promise I will always want you around. You’re right, whatever those people used to say about you doesn’t matter. They were needlessly cruel and I wish I could’ve stopped them from hurting you,” you reached up, cupping his cheek gently. “You’re important, Tendu-chan. You’re caring, funny, and genuine. I love hearing about your favorite anime and your coolest blocks. I really do.”
“Ohhh, is little Y/N crying for me?” He cooed, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears gathering on your lashes. “Sweet thing.”
“I’m serious,” you said, letting him wipe your cheeks.
“I know,” he squinted at you. “Will you let me try something?”
From the way his crimson eyes kept flickering down to your lips, you could easily guess what he wanted to try. You nodded mutely, breath catching excitedly as his face drew closer.
The first touch of his lips felt like a static shock. Your eyes fluttered close as he pushed a little closer, experimentally moving his lips against yours. He let out a low groan into your mouth, pushing forward until you were laying down again. The hands that had been by your sides now moved to tangle in your hair and cup your face while his hips settled comfortably between your thighs.
The first brush of his tongue across your bottom lip sent fire licking up your spine which eventually settled as a fluttering warmth in your stomach. Your hands came up to grab his arms, nails leaving shallow crescents on the pale skin of his biceps through his shirt. Parting with a nip to your bottom lip, Tendou licked his lips as he looked down at you.
The sight of your flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips sent a thrill of exhilaration through his chest.
“Well?” He asked, a cocky grin smeared across his lips.
It was like you were seeing Tendou in a brand new light. Before he was just your friend. You always knew he was good-looking but now, you were supremely aware of his shapely lips, cut jaw, and broad shoulders. His hips between yours was as intoxicating as the elated look on his face.
“Stop looking so smug,” you huffed, pulling him down to your lips again.
Laughing softly, Tendou happily obliged you in another sensuous kiss that left you dizzy and breathless. He swallowed your gasp when he experimentally rolled his hips into yours.
He pulled back, eyes lidded with a dazed smile, and tilted his head. “Is that okay?”
You nodded eagerly, leaning up to capture him in another kiss. With a sly smirk he pulled out of your reach, head tilted expectantly.
“Yes, Tendou, now please get back to it,” you snapped, secretly appreciative of his need for clear consent.
“There we go,” he murmured, stooping back down with a thorough roll of his hips.
A groan was shared between both of your open mouths as his hips fell into a steady rhythm, slowly undulating against you. Sighing out his name, you let your head fall back while Tendou trailed kisses across your jaw and down to your throat.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so perfect,” he murmured breathlessly, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses down the column of your throat. “Feel so good, hah-“
His clothed erection lined up perfectly with your core, sending searing electricity flickering through your stomach. Your hands went from gripping his arms to tangling in his hair, tugging lightly at the crimson strands.
“Haah-ah,” you moaned at a particularly accurate thrust that had his entire length dragging along your clit. “Satori, please.”
“Oh, fuck,” Tendou sighed into your ear, pushing aside your hair so he could hide his face in the warmth of your neck. “You’re so hot, gonna make me cum in my pants. Keep making those pretty noises for me, sweet thing.”
You nodded along eagerly, pulling his head away from your neck so your could attach your lips again. Steady thrusts began to lose their rhythm as both of you got closer to completion. Tendou let out a throaty groan, wrapping his lean arms around you tightly so he could rub his hard-on against your core with more force.
“Satori, ah!” You cried out at the stimulation.
He clashed his mouth against yours messily, teeth clicking while he gasped against your lips.
“M’ close,” he clenched his eyes shut.
“Me too, me too,” you whined, hips writhing up against his desperately. “Satori!”
Tendou practically growled at that, mouth claiming yours assertively. You shouted his name again while your orgasm wracked through your body, leaving you sensitive and tingly as Tendou chased his own release. He came with a low moan into your mouth, hips rolling gently through the aftershocks.
When he finally slowed to a stop he went completely slack on top you. Tendou mouthed gently at your neck, fingers petting your hair as you both caught your breath. You released his hair and unclenched your stiff fingers a few times before wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
Curious hands slowly pushed beneath your shirt, tenderly exploring your body while Tendou continued to leave lazy, open-mouthed kisses on your neck. His handsiness didn’t bother you since you were also busy tracing the muscles of his back.
You whined when he landed another quick kiss before pushing off of you.
“I gotta clean up,” he said, darting down to kiss you again.
That reminded you of the uncomfortable dampness in your own pants so you got up as well. You found a pair of sweatpants that he could fit into from your brother and set them by the bathroom door for him. By the time you came back from changing he was already lounging in your bed again, your brother’s sweatpants an inch or two too short above his ankles.
Tendou’s expression brightened when you walked in, his eyes wide to match his grin as you climbed in to lay next to him. He was quick to wrap his arms around you again.
“Well?” He asked.
“Hmm?” You responded, face pressed against his shoulder.
“What are we now?” He leaned back so he could see your face.
You stretched languidly, tossing a leg over his hips and an arm over his chest before responding.
“What do you want this to be?”
“I want you to be mine,” he answered honestly.
“Then I’m yours,” you said simply, kissing the hinge of his jaw.
“My girlfriend,” he said adoringly, twisting to his side so you were facing each other.
You laughed softly, letting him cup your cheeks so he could pull you into an unhurried kiss. His tongue pressed past your lips to sweep along your teeth and slide hotly against yours.
“I’m pretty great at apologies, huh?” He boasted.
“Oh, shut up,” you groaned, pushing him away by his forehead.
Tendou let you shove his face away with a quiet giggle before brushing your hand away so he could attack your neck with more kisses.
“You better not be leaving marks,” you threatened halfheartedly, too caught up in the addicting sensation of his lips on your body to be serious.
Tendou eyed a particularly red spot, pressing a light kiss to it. “Of course not, baby.”
“That didn’t sound too convincing.”
“Well… it might fade,” Tendou circled the spot with his finger. “I kinda like it.”
“Satori!”
“Whaaat?” He crooned. “It lets everyone know you’re mine.”
“Ugh, you creep,” you murmured, accepting a soft kiss.
Tendou giggled cheerfully, squeezing you closer to him affectionately. He left a flurry of kisses across your cheeks and nose, sighing happily.
“I love this,” his hands roved over your body. “Getting to touch and kiss you as much as I want.”
“Mm, me too.”
Tendou’s lean body was beautiful, so was his blush when you informed him of this. He groaned and hid his face in the crook your neck.
“I’m serious!” You insisted, pulling his face from your neck so you could look at him.
“I know you are, thank you,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.
“Aww, are you embarrassed?”
Tendou scoffed. “Tch, of course not. I’m a catch, a total babe.”
Laughing, you let him bite playfully at the hinge of your jaw for a moment before shoving him away so he couldn’t leave another mark. Tendou settled down and was happy to let you brush your fingers through his hair until it lost it’s shape and started to fall over his forehead.
“Mmm, sleepy,” he sighed, practically purring as you massaged his scalp.
“Go to sleep then.”
He hummed, twisting his body until he was on his stomach with half of his body draped over yours. You smiled warmly, of course Tendou was a clingy sleeper.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu writing#tendou satori#tendou x reader#haikyuu smut#tendou smut#tendou x you#friends to lovers#haikyuu angst#tendou headcanon#tendou fluff#tendou imagine#Shiratorizawa#happy ending#masterlist#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you
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Injury II
Characters: Kaeya, Ningguang, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Word Count: 5,650
Warnings: Various injuries, blood, burns, minor villain death
Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured.
Author’s Note: Okay so after the mind numbing fear of my computer almost dying and now maybe emitting a weird smell I’m five seconds away from pure panic. But the show much go on! Even if my word document keeps blacking out.
This is my first time writing for Ningguang! I hope I do my girl justice, she’s voiced by my fav VA, she’s a total powerhouse, I love her so much.
I tried to make all of the injuries personal to each character in some way. Funny enough Zhongli’s was the hardest to figure out. I eventually settled upon the act of you being injured causing Zhongli’s personal angst, rather than the cause of the injury. I hope it came out well!
Kaeya
Kaeya didn’t often let himself fall into fear. Not since he’d been young did he feel that he could indulge in such a sentiment. True to his vision he’d frozen that part of himself, and now when panic seized him he could feel nothing but stone cold determination, and the need to continue forward without hesitation. Fear was hardly alien to him, he could conjure up the emotion all too well, but it had been dulled and replaced by cynicism and coldness. And occasionally guilt.
Looking back on it Kaeya wasn’t even sure why the two of you had strayed so close to Dragonspine, so close snowflakes were congregating in your hair.
You’d called him a winter fairy in jest at the time, wondering if he wasn’t truly the ruler of that mountain of frost. He’d laughed then, before threatening to take you away to his fairy court. “That would be quite an easy task.” You’d replied. “You’ve already captured my heart after all.”
The two of you were strolling on the rocks that lined the river which separated Dragonspine from the greater Monstadt area. Although adventurers usually roamed the area in the daytime it was now evening, and the lack of people certainly made up for the cold in Kaeya’s mind. He could only be his true self around you after all. Otherwise it was the charming and slick Cavalry Captain, a man who always knew what to say and never harbored any doubts in his mind. Not that he wasn’t still charming around you, he loved seeing you blush from his effusive praise, loved the way you buried your head in his shoulder if the flirting and the teasing ramped up enough. But there was a sincerity to his words that one couldn’t find normally in Kaeya, and he loved to show you bits and pieces of his soul, relieved to finally have someone to talk to.
“Watch your step.” You warned, grabbing onto Kaeya’s hand as he slid a little ways along a rock.
“Thank you darling, although I daresay I’m more worried about you. After all who’s the snow fairy here and who’s the wind sprite, liable to blow away at any moment?”
“So cheesy.” You mumbled, shaking your head, though Kaeya could’ve sworn your cheeks were slightly redder than they were a few moments ago. Laughing he wrapped his arm around your waist. You snuggled into his fur lined coat. “Cold.” You murmured, though you made no move to disconnect yourself. Kaeya smiled and brought his other hand around you in a soft embrace.
“Sorry my dearest, but you’re in love with an icicle.”
“Only terms of magic.” You shot back. “Otherwise you’re a nice warm fire. And don’t you forget that.”
The two of you headed a little ways down, closer to the river. A small group of frost flowers had made it to this side of the banks, and you were adamant on picking some. “They’re so beautiful!” You explained to Kaeya. “And incredibly strong, I can’t believe they managed to grow in that permafrost. They’re simply lovely.”
“Just be careful.” Kaeya commented, standing a little ways back. He didn’t like getting near the river, a river so cold it was always at nearly freezing at the bottom. Cold water and a vision of Cryo didn’t mix well.
“I’ll be fine.” You hopped to your feet, a bouquet of pale blue in your hand. You were smiling from your victory, face full of light and happiness.
It was an expression that changed swiftly as you lost your balance and plummeted into the freezing waters.
Immediately Kaeya leapt down from the rocks he was standing on, kneeling near where you were standing a moment ago. The river wasn’t very fast, bogged down by its width and how far it was away from the waterfalls in the warmer parts of Monstadt. Still it cut off very quickly, having barely the semblance of a beach before opening into a deep chasm, and anyone who fell in it would quickly fall into cold shock. Already your limbs had started seizing, and you were hyperventilating hard. Your arms felt like dead weight, and every second that passed your head dipped lower into the freezing water.
Kaeya gingerly put his hand out to make a platform of ice for him to stand on. Whatever happened he couldn’t fall in as well, it would mean the death of you two. Fear had reared its ugly head again and Kaeya twisted those feelings into action. No matter what he had to act fast and sure. Hesitation was fatal.
Plunging his hand into the water, sucking in a deep breath as the ice that still coated his palms and fingers made contact with the freezing river Kaeya hauled you up onto the icy platform. Taking off his coat he wrapped you up. Removing your gloves so the frozen water wouldn’t be in contact with your already freezing skin Kaeya cursed as he ran towards Springvale, the nearest place he could think of. He’d lugged you onto his back, and could feel the freezing water through his shirt. As he ran he kept up a stream of slightly shaky conversation, rattling off what little he knew of hypothermia.
“It’ll be alright darling, I promise it’ll be alright. You’re just going through shock right now, okay? You’ll be alright, I promise. Just stay awake a little while longer. I know you must be tired from all that excitement, but just stay awake a little longer, just a little longer and then you’ll be nice and warm, just stay awake right now okay?” His voice became more and more desperate as his fear started to tumble out of his grasp, but he kept moving. He wouldn’t lose control of himself now, not until you were safe.
Finally he arrived at Springvale and you’d been rushed to the village doctor. Kaeya was told to go and wait somewhere else, and preferably change out of his freezing cold shirt, but you’d grabbed his hand as he turned to leave and after that he refused to budge, instead borrowing a shirt from the village. He’d reimburse the people who let you two borrow their clothes later.
The entire process was a terrifying one, as you were slowly brought back to warmth. Kaeya took the opportunity to learn as much as he could, noting that you shouldn’t massage limbs back to warmth for fear of heart attack and – much to his chagrin he later joked when the situation was far enough in the past – alcohol was too much of a depressant on your system and could lead to death. All throughout he kept talking to you, even though there were times you didn’t seem to hear, times when he thought his heart would split in two.
Still it was evident you were going to survive and when you’d finally finished being warmed up Kaeya thought he could cry in relief, if only he’d been numbed from such an act for so many years. You’d run into some sort of rock in the water, and the long gash down the side of your leg was later determined by the doctor to reveal torn muscle. It’d take about a month and a half for you to recover. Kaeya thought he should’ve felt worse about it, but in the moment he felt nothing but relief, utter relief in the knowledge you were going to be fine. Utter relief that came with having almost lost you.
Kaeya had carried you back to Monstadt, much to your consternation. All the ways back you mumbled about how his penchant for drama seemed to have increased tenfold. Kaeya simply shook his head, not bothering to ask how you would’ve gotten back otherwise with your leg in the shape it was. Still it was a relief to both of you to see the city walls. Even more of a relief when you finally arrived home, safe and sound.
“I’m so glad you were there.” You confessed as Kaeya sat you down on the couch, propping up your leg and pulling a chair up next to you. “I don’t know what I would’ve done had I fallen and you weren’t there.”
“You probably wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” Kaeya remarked, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. You brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned into it slightly, grateful for the contact between you two. It’d been hours but the panic that he’d felt still tugged at his consciousness, as if any moment you might slip away again and leave him panicked and alone.
“Were you afraid?” You asked.
“Of course I was afraid.” Kaeya’s reply came swift and sure. “I was terrified, terrified in a way that I haven’t been in years.” Kaeya’s eyes clouded over, as if reaching deep into his memories. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles and then your palm. “I thought that you might die, and in that moment I was ready to curse the world all over again.”
“But I didn’t die.” You said solemnly.
“No, you didn’t.”
“And that’s because of you. Because you reacted quickly, because you had the magic with which to do so, and most of all because you never hesitated. And because of that I’m alive and well now. Injuries aside I’ll be fine. I promise.”
Kaeya knew you were right. You were alive. You weren’t going to go where he couldn’t follow. The fear coiling in his stomach began to subside. He’d been so afraid, yes, and in that fear he’d managed to find the strength and determination to save you. But now you were safe and he no longer needed to rely on that strength; he could give into his relief. Realizing this, realizing how frightened he’d been and how that was now part of a past he could move forward from, could truly forget, Kaeya could only marvel at his relief. Only then did the tears begin to fall.
Ningguang
If there was one thing Ningguang wasn’t expecting out of today it was your leg collapsing and her winding up in the waiting room of the Liyue hospital, mind replaying the last week or so, wondering where she might’ve realized something was wrong.
It seemed like the kind of thing Keqing would make a joke about. Here Ningguang was, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing, the most powerful woman in the trade capital of Liyue; here she was, her world completely gone awry, completely shattered by your injury.
A stress fracture, the doctor had said. It was the kind of injury that developed slowly and came about after weeks instead of in moments. The initial strain was usually something mundane, a sprain, a bruise, maybe you’d walked on your foot for too long. But after sometimes weeks of ignoring pain and swelling your body couldn’t take it any longer. Ten weeks, that’s how long you would be laid up. And Ningguang couldn’t help but feel every one of those ten weeks was her fault.
She should’ve noticed it. That train of thought continued all throughout the process of you being treated at, and eventually discharged from, the hospital. You weren’t just one of the people she worked with daily, weren’t just her closest colleague. You were the person that Ningguang loved more than anything in this world. How could she possibly not have noticed the signs?
Ningguang found herself obsessively trying to connect the warning signs that must’ve been there. She knew that your foot had been aching for some time, but though she’d been vaguely concerned she’d said nothing other than a simple “be careful”. She’d never thought to check after you later, sure that it was nothing. Now she felt nothing but shame, both that of a personal and of a greater kind. How could she manage looking after all of Liyue if she couldn’t even look after you?
You noticed Ningguang’s silence as you two made your way out of the hospital and towards the apartment you shared. Although Ningguang was perhaps seen as a reticent individual you’d found her surprisingly open, always ready to discuss things that were of interest either to you or to her. She wasn’t the kind of person to walk along in silence; not when she was around those that she cared for, not unless she was thinking about something important, not unless…
Finally you two arrived home. You collapsed on the couch, tired and ready to either read or nap. Ningguang was preparing some tea and a various array of fruit, not that there was much food in the lavish apartment you two shared. Considering the workload between the both of you it was perhaps unsurprising that there was nothing much to eat. That would have to change, Ningguang noted; she’d make sure that you were recovering in the most comfortable way possible. It was the least she could do.
“Are you feeling well?” Ningguang asked, placing the food and tea on the table in your room. You nodded.
“I feel fine, although I’m not looking forward to the walk to the Qixing headquarters. I have to admit dear this might be the only time I’m a bit glad that I don’t have to make my way to the Jade Chamber every day.” Ningguang smiled at that, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She sat silently, sipping her tea slowly. Your expression clouded over. “Hey, can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Oh it’s nothing my love.” Ningguang spoke up quickly, leaning over and kissing you on the cheek. “I’m just sorry to see you like this.”
“Well you can’t blame yourself. You know that, right?”
Ningguang found she couldn’t bring herself to lie to you. Your gaze, though soft, seemed to pierce right through all her excuses and all her bluffing. She sighed softly. Maybe it would be better to be upfront about it, clear and concise, how one should always be. At least then she could apologize properly.
“In truth I do blame myself. I can’t believe I was so neglectful of your health, so blind to your pain.” She shook her head, staring at the hand that was holding yours. A disconnected part of her thought of how well the two fit together, fingers intertwined softly, your palm warm and comforting.
“If you were blind to this then so was I.” You spoke softly but firmly, refusing to sugar coat your words. Ningguang admired you for it, even if she didn’t believe you, something painfully clear in the expression on her face. “You cannot blame yourself.” You continued, “I won’t let you. I don’t want you beating yourself up for something that neither of us predicted. If you feel the need to blame yourself for this you must also blame me; I was the one walking on the injury without paying enough attention.”
“But – ” Ningguang paused, realizing the truth behind your words, slouching slightly she sat in deep thought. “I… I realize there’s not a lot of logic behind my thinking.”
“Well feelings are hardly logical.” You pointed out, squeezing her hand. “And because they’re illogical they don’t go away quickly. But I at least want you to try and combat your guilt with what I’ve told you. Because just like you hate seeing me in this cast I hate seeing you in pain.”
Ningguang nodded, heart filled with a deep sense of love and tenderness. Leaning over to give you a kiss she smiled softly. You did too. For a moment you two basked in each other’s presence and happiness, before you smile turned mischievous.
“Although… I won’t object to a little pampering.” Ningguang chuckled, shaking her head. But her smile was real this time, and you wouldn’t ask for anything more.
“You’re lucky I love you so much.”
“I know I am.” You replied. “And you’re lucky I adore you.”
“I am.” Ningguang’s reply was just as sure, was full of quiet but strong emotion. She was lucky. And she would never take you or your love for granted. No matter what.
Xiao
By the time he’d met you Xiao had long come to the conclusion that he’d never find it in him to like humans.
Humans were dirty, they were untrustworthy and full of darkness, they broke things without thinking about it, mangled their own people, their own families and friends and countrymen. Humans slaughtered one another without thinking of how it might stain them, and when they weren’t killing they were stealing and lying and ruining the land around them. How could he, a being designed solely to destroy the darkness in the world, ever find in himself the will or the ability to look past all that?
When he’d met you and had fallen in love in earnest this view had still changed ultimately very little. But even if you’d admitted that what he said was mostly true, you’d found that you still wanted him to learn to care at least a little bit about humanity. I mean you were ultimately one of them at your core. It didn’t feel right to prop yourself up as the one great exception, not when there were other people who were certainly like you in mind and in morality. Xiao silently disagreed with this analysis; to him there never was and never would be someone like you, in all of Teyvat. Still, he felt compelled to try, though more for your sake than for his, and as the weeks had gone on he’d begun to look at humanity not with any sort of respect or hope but with a sort of begrudging curiosity, and an admittance that maybe, just maybe, there was a bit of that light you saw in it.
What a fool he’d been.
Although Xiao was aware of the growing threat of treasure hoarders across Liyue – so widespread that they’d even managed to eat away at the tranquil lands surrounding Jueyen Karst – he’d never considered them a serious threat. So when the two of you accidentally ran into a group of them while exploring some of the older Liyue ruins Xiao didn’t bother to do much more than wrap an arm around your waist, sure that even the most idiotic of treasure hoarders wouldn’t be so foolish as to pick a fight with either an adeptus or their beloved. You seemed unfazed at any rate, explaining that the two of you were simply passing by and had no desire to pick a fight; if they’d be so kind the two of you would be on your way.
Perhaps the treasure hoarders were well aware of the fact that you could report them to the Liyue Qixing. Perhaps they were simply in a bad mood. Either way your words apparently did nothing. Xiao was becoming tenser and tenser, feeling as if something catastrophic was about to happen. That moment came to pass when one of the treasure hoarders pulled out a knife and threw it, lodging itself with deadly accuracy into your torso.
At that point Xiao felt himself overcome with a supernatural sort of calm, a calm which raced to cover up the anguish and rage that was coursing through him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. He only paused to make sure you didn’t hit the ground hard, before summoning his spear. Ignoring the cries of the treasure hoarders he made quick work of disposing of them, for what was a measly human, a piece of trash, when compared to that which had slayed countless demons? A small part of him cried out against the act, pointing out the fact that every time he wielded his polearm to kill it might bring him closer to the precipice, the fact that you were hurt mattered more than revenge, the fact that he was going to regret killing in front of you. He ignored it. At that moment there was nothing in his mind, it was as empty and staid as a clear pool of water. The only ripple in it was the way you’d jolted back in surprised, and the way you’d let out a cry before crumpling.
Xiao didn’t look back to see the havoc he’d wreaked. Instead he ran to your side. Peeling off his gloves, worried that they might bring infection, he pressed his bare hands to your wound, desperately trying to staunch the blood that was spilling out, ignoring the shocks that jolted through his hands, the result of the dagger somehow being infused with electro. The feeling of blood, your blood, beneath his fingers was nauseating, and for a moment Xiao felt his head filling with static as the pure panic that he’d felt began to overcome the initial rush of adrenaline. Snapping out of it when you let out a groan of pain Xiao looked into your eyes. They were clouded, and for a moment the adeptus was afraid you might be on the verge of passing out – had you really lost so much blood? Holding you tightly, one hand never leaving your wound, Xiao summoned a burst of air. His thoughts were still too chaotic to be processed, there was only one thing connecting them all. Let them live. If there’s any justice in this world, please let them live.
Verr Goldet had grasped the situation as soon as she saw Xiao appear on the balcony, face contorted in fear. Taking you to her room, she’d instructed Xiao to get one of the doctors from Liyue while she and the resident apothecary took care of you. Xiao did the task without thinking, and once he’d arrived with the doctor he refused to leave your side. Xiao knew death better than most adepti, certainly more than most humans. It was cold and unfeeling, and had a nasty habit of leaping onto people when they least expected it. It didn’t matter to him that all three, Goldet, the apothecary, and the doctor, said that you would be fine; Xiao was going to be there the entire time.
Eventually you managed to rouse yourself from the pain induced stupor, and when you did you saw Xiao first, eyes wide with fear and relief, tears threatening to spill down his face.
In the end you’d been lucky. Although the dagger had ruptured your spleen Xiao had acted quickly enough to avert catastrophe. You were going to survive, though it’d be 12 weeks most likely until you were completely recovered. The moment of crisis having passed the two of you were finally given a moment alone.
“Are you alright?” Xiao immediately asked. You didn’t make a move to answer, instead cupping Xiao’s cheek before moving to take his hand. At that moment how Xiao remembered. Oh; the blood. Quickly moving away he ran to the nearest basin of water, scrubbing furiously. As the water turned red a faint smell of iron filled the air; it was the most disgusting thing Xiao had ever smelt, and he scrubbed even harder. You waited silently as he finished cleaning his hands and disposing of the water. Finally he came back to sit next to you, still hesitating a moment before placing his palm in yours.
“I… I don’t understand how you could ever like humans.” That was the first thing Xiao could think of. “They betrayed you. Without even blinking. That man, all those men and women, they would’ve ended your life without even thinking about it. They would’ve killed you and lived without ever having such a thing weigh on their conscience. Humans never think about the weight of their sins. They just keep committing atrocities.”
“And what about you, Xiao. Will their deaths weigh on you?”
“As much as all the others.” Xiao wished he could be matter of fact about it, but he found that trait of his had somehow disappeared. Instead an emotion washed over him, so unfamiliar and unexplainable it seemed to choke him. “Perhaps more.” He managed to get out, before beginning to cry in earnest.
You would’ve died. If he hadn’t been there you would’ve died. For you he gladly shouldered the weight of human life, would do so again and again if only to ensure your safety. And yet it was such a heavy weight, and no matter how many Xiao killed it wouldn’t heal you.
“I’m sorry.” He choked out. You shook your head.
“Xiao I always knew that you weren’t going to be able to see humans as I see them immediately. And I know that you have a relationship with death and killing that most humans, most beings, will never have. I’m not going to blame you, nor will I turn on you. I cannot pretend that what happened didn’t make me angry. In retrospect it made me incredibly angry. It’s also true that – had you not been there – I would’ve raised my own weapon in self-defense. But now I’m going to ask you for one thing, and one thing only.”
“What?”
“Help me recover. Help me recover and let me help you recover. If there’s one thing I don’t want to happen now it’s for you to turn away from me and from everyone else, to let yourself be consumed. I want you to have somewhere you can let your feelings exist, and I want somewhere I can feel happy and comfortable as myself. You make me feel that way, so even if it’s selfish I don’t want you to turn away. And I don’t want you to grieve for me. Injured as I may be I’m not dead.” There was a pause as you let yourself catch your breath, having gotten more and more excited as you went on. “I realize that’s more than one thing.” You concluded, a bit sheepish.
Xiao said nothing for a while before leaning towards you. “May I?” He whispered. You nodded and Xiao pressed his lips to yours. The kiss wasn’t one of fire or passion. It was different, defined within the parameters of fear and relief, there seemed to be a sort of desperation in it, yet it was surprisingly sedate. Pulling away Xiao buried his face in your neck, careful to make sure he wasn’t touching where you’d been stabbed.
“I will. I promise.” He whispered. You nodded, smiling softly. But Xiao couldn’t bring himself to smile, not just yet.
Xiao couldn’t understand humans. They were dirty and cruel and lived without fear of consequences. Their actions haunted him and he found them easier to hate than to understand. But for you he’d try, because to him there was one thing strong than all, strong than fear, stronger than mistrust, stronger than hatred.
And that was the love he held for you.
Zhongli
If there was one thing Zhongli hadn’t been prepared for when it came to falling in love with humans it was their combination of fragility and utter ignorance to said fragility.
One of Zhongli’s favorite things to do was to simply sit and listen to you talk about your life. Humans fascinated Zhongli, it was one of the reasons he’d ultimately given up his place as Rex Lapis; inside him lived a desire to interact with humanity in a more intimate way, to know what made people behave as they did and to perhaps grow closer to them in the process.
But despite all that he still wasn’t ready for the utter fear he felt when listening to the stories of you getting hurt. You’d laughed off scrapes and bruises and fractures. The time you’d accidentally ripped off your nail was a painful yet funny anecdote, and the fact that you’d fractured your kneecap as a child was something you now looked back on with an odd sense of nostalgia.
Zhongli didn’t understand why these stories frightened him on such a visceral level. Such injuries were nothing to gods and adepti. Although the idea of a broken bone was certainly an irritation there was nothing more in it, and the kind of injuries that could easily kill humans would to Zhongli be the kind of thing that would be unpleasant for its novelty, not for its potential fatality.
He didn’t bring up these thoughts to you, feeling as if they’d somehow place an undue burden on you, or perhaps he was afraid you’d stop telling him about yourself. Still it lurked at the back of his mind, the fear of what might happen to you.
The fears that Zhongli harbored were proven in the most mundane, and thus most poignant, way. The two of you had been preparing a meal when suddenly you’d stumbled on an uneven part of the floor. Reaching your hands out to steady yourself your arm had landed flat on the hot stove, the stove which had been heating up for the past fifteen or so minutes. The scream that you let out sent a shock through Zhongli which shook him to his core. It rang through his ears incessantly, a terrifying reminder of how breakable humans were.
You’d immediately yanked your arm off from the stove but the sight that met both his and your eyes was a ghastly one. The skin on your arm was charred various colors, white blisters mixed with black flaky skin, all outlined in a terrible circle of red. You were shaking, and you face had turned a frightful ashen color. Springing into action Zhongli wracked his brain for all he could remember about burns. If the burn is serious enough go to the hospital. Never try to treat intense burns yourself as the burning has gone deeper than the initial layer of skin, raise your burn above your heart. Go to the hospital. Slinging your arm around his shoulder so that it was raised, whisper soft words of reassurance as you let out a shriek of pain, Zhongli half walked half carried you to the hospital, all while the same thought was running through his head.
How fragile humans are.
The doctors had insisted you stay overnight. Apparently the burn was bad enough to require surgery. Zhongli’s stomach had dropped as he was told that, but he managed to nod in response. Walking back home Zhongli felt all in a daze. He barely made it in the door before he collapsed, fear having seeped the energy out of him. The world pressed down on him, heavier than it’d ever been before. At least you’d be okay, he reminded himself. If he had anything to cling to at least he had that.
Zhongli was the first visitor to arrive at the hospital, having given Hu Tao the run of the funeral home as he spent as much time as possible with you. You were well enough, although a bit bogged down from the painkillers you’d been given. You’d once offhandedly commented that although magic infused medicine tended to be safer for the patient – more successful and less addictive – it was also more powerful; now Zhongli could see you weren’t kidding.
Your burn was wrapped up carefully, the doctors had managed to take the charred skin of, you’d explain, but now the burn had to be treated with the utmost care until the surgery later in the afternoon, infection was no joke.
“Well this’ll certainly be an interesting anecdote.” You let out half a laugh. “Not that I’m happy this happened, but at least this will shut up the next person who complains about how cardio was the most painful thing they’ve experienced.”
“I don’t know how you can be so cavalier about it.” Zhongli replied, tone soft and introspective. “It seems to terrifying to me, how easily humans are hurt.”
“Hey, I’ll be fine.” You assured him, voice soft but firm. “I understand how to adepti and archons and gods this might be terrifying. I’d be the first to admit we can’t really keep up with you in terms of pure healing and resistance to injury. But we’ve continued on this far haven’t we?” You smiled softly. “I promise I’m not about to die from something like a kitchen accident.”
“But what if next time it’s not your arm?” Zhongli replied. “What if it’s your neck or your chest? What if you cut yourself too deeply, what if your cut becomes infected. There are so many things I haven’t thought about until now, so many things that could hurt you. It frightens me terribly.”
“I’m very grateful that you’re worrying for me like this. But Zhongli?” You waited for his eyes to meet yours, smiling once more when he faced you. “You cannot be consumed by your anxiety. Believe me humans worry about these kinds of things. What if I tripped and fell and broke my neck, what if I scratched myself and developed and infection, what if I choked on an apple? These fears live with us, sometimes constantly, but we cannot let them consume us. As much as I’m flattered and glad you care for my wellbeing so much, I also don’t want you consumed by it, nor do I want to be treated like glass.”
“I cannot understand how you’re so resilient.” Zhongli replied after a short pause. You shrugged.
“We are because we must be.”
Zhongli knew in his heart that these fears he harbored weren’t going to go away. He knew that they were going to become more and more apparent through the month of your initial recovery, and through the longer period too as scar tissue formed and subsided.
Humans were indeed fragile. But if there was one thing stronger than said fragility it was their even greater determination to supersede it. Humans may be fragile in body, but they were stronger in spirit even than the gods.
That was something Zhongli wasn’t going to forget. Not for a very long time.
#my computer's about to die but this was totally worth it#also I never want to learn that much about burns again oof#tonight was wild#also I love ningguang so much aaa#kaeya#ningguang#xiao#zhongli#kaeya x reader#ningguang x reader#xiao x reader#zhongli x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfiction#scenarios#my writing
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“Oh, yes, your Royal Highness, you are completely right, that is your hand!” It’s followed by soft cooing sounds. “Why, yes, that’s a thumb! And look, a forefinger, a middle finger, oh, your Royal Highness, not so fast, we can’t be skipping fingers as we go, it’s not proper. There you go, a ring finger and a little pinky.”
It’s warm and homey, and you are basking in the feelings of having no outside worries. King unexpectedly arrived and informed you that he is going to spend his afternoon, evening and the night in your pavilion. With you and your son.
It’s the first time it happened, and at first you only saw it as a way to show the whole world your position - the King was clearly favoring you. He willingly chose to take his rest where it would be interrupted by a fussy child. Once again, everyone was advising you to give Lee Yong to the nanny, at least during the night time, but you were adamant to keep him at your side. You were tired, yes, but that little boy was your whole world and you were starting to feel a resemblance of dedication and warmth whenever you saw him do something he could do a day before.
As soon as the King entered your chamber, he sent all of your servants away, asking for his supper to be brought here. He made sure you stayed on your mattress with pillows for support and when he was sure you were comfortable, he took his son from your hands, laid him down on the mattress next to you and laid down as well, hovering over the boy.
It happened at least a half an hour before and he was still in a deep conversation with your son. The boy was cooing and vocalizing and raising his hands and smiling at his father. He was finally at the stage where he was starting to socialize and his father couldn’t have been more excited to witness it.
Watching them is relaxing and you realize that you could probably do it for hours on end. You won’t ever admit that it makes you sentimental, but you are definitely content and at peace. You have nothing to worry about here, in your pavilion, with your man and your son.
Your man.
The King seems to realize you are looking at him, because he looks up at you and smiles when your eyes meet.
“Your Royal Highness, it seems like my attention is needed elsewhere. Oh, yes, I understand that you might not be content with such an outcome, but one has their duties and until your humble servant’s life ends, his duty is bound to your Royal Highness’ mother. And such a lovely duty it is.”
You are mortified to realize that you are blushing. Your survival depends on you being able to keep your face straight, and you are unable to do so under his gaze. King pushes himself up and leans forward. You react instinctively, in spite of yourself, meeting him halfway. The kiss is short, but sweet, as the boy gurgles something from under his father.
“And once more your wisdom is unparalleled, your Royal Highness,” answers the King immediately. He focuses back on his son and you can’t help but laugh.
King hands you Lee Yong only when he starts to cry for food. It’s right when your’s and King supper is brought to your pavilion. You feed the boy while his father is alternating between feeding you and eating himself. You feel cared for. You feel safe. And you cherish the family time you get.
Later, when tables are cleared and Lee Yong falls asleep, King focuses on you. It’s the first time since before the birth that it’s really the only two of you. For the first time in ages he demands you give him your place and although you are used to not doing that and you don’t want to do it - you do. You are sure your set jaw is a clear telltale, because King laughs quietly as you move to sit on the other side of your low wooden table. He grabs your hips, not letting you escape and he drags you down.
You fall between his legs, your back to his chest, and he embraces you. Once again you feel yourself blushing. The horror.
“I’ve missed you, my dear,” he whispers into your ear, rocking you slightly. You allow yourself to be lulled, resting your hands on his. You allow yourself to relax and to cuddle.
“I’ve missed you, too, your Highness,” you mumble back, careful not to wake up your son. The “your highness” part is politically right, but suddenly it feels lacking. It feels cold and not enough. “My dear,” you try, not caring how daring you are. “My love,” you try again, and once more it’s not right. “My lord,” you try, feeling how your blush intensifies. Lord is for father, when the girl is young. Lord is for husband, when she gets one. You don’t have the right to call him lord. “My heart.”
“Yes, my dear?” He asks, voice choked. You turn around, surprised, and the warmth in his eyes is so prominent. It’s tangible. He brushes his fingers on your cheek and you lean into the touch. King whimpers.
“I’ve missed you,” you repeat, not knowing what to say. You can’t stand his intense gaze, so you hide, cuddling into his chest, and you truly feel safe. “Is spring coming?”
“Ah yes, the little garden is sprouting more buds every day. I believe that Yong’s 100th day will be celebrated in the full bloom of early flowers. I hope, my love, you’ll soon join me on my walks. It’s not as lively without you there.”
“I shouldn’t spend all my time inside waiting for the prince to grow up, should I?” You feel slight pressure on top of your head and you are nearly sure he just kissed you.
“No, you shouldn’t. I couldn’t keep you inside when Yong was still in the womb, how come you are cooped up inside when he is born?”
“I fear for him, my… heart.” It will take you some time before you grow accustomed, but you will, now that you know he is not opposed to you calling him something so improper. “My love, my dear.”
You shake, as King laughs silently.
“I am here, my dear, there is no need to keep calling for me,” his words are scolding, but he sounds delighted. “I know, my dear, but I am sure he’d also enjoy a little bit of fresh air.”
You look at your son, peacefully sleeping in his blanket. You know that he won’t be as peaceful when the night comes.
“You need to be out and about, my dear,” he says and the change in his voice alarms you. He is still quiet, but there are hard notes in his delightfulness. “I need you to show the Inner Palace that you are its highest power.”
“But I’m not,” you say through a constricted throat. His words are startling enough for you to straighten up to look at him, to assess what he means. He kisses you as soon as he gets a chance.
“Yet, my dear,” he says finally. But seeing your face he exhales. “I know your ambitions end at you being my Bin. It’s not enough, my dear.”
You are watching him silently. The turmoil you feel is mostly hidden, or so you hope, but it’s not something you expected. You are used to the King helping you, yes. But his help usually came after you plotted and asked for it. You did not expect him to actively lead you and push you.
And he must see that in your face, because he sighs and grabs your hand, the one with a blemish and he kisses your palm.
“Sukwon, I know you didn’t approach me because you loved me,” he states as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It freezes you and you immediately stop feeling safe. You’ve been found out. “Stop, wait, before you start treating me like the likes of your father, let me explain. Please.”
He pleads with you. And you got so much thanks to him that you owe him at least that. So you keep quiet but you withdraw your hands. You do, however, stay put.
King exhales and rubs his forehead, clearly gathering thoughts.
“You know I loved you for a really long time, before my grandfather died. You know that, because I told you. And I love you still, so so much, and it hurts I can’t show it to you like a simple man could. You know I can’t but I try.”
“I also know, you don’t love me. You didn’t love me when you came to me. I longed for you for years, watching you from a distance, as you worked. The first time you addressed me properly, after I was appointed the crown prince, I threw a tantrum - I knew I couldn’t keep spending my time with you. But what hurt the most was the ease with which you separated us. And as the time flew I kept loving you, and you kept being indifferent. And I am not saying that to chide you, I am trying to explain my own turmoil. Given the difference in bloodline, I knew I couldn’t take you as my wife, so I hoped for you to be my Bin. I plotted it extensively. But with every dismissive interaction you were showing me that you wouldn’t become mine, because you didn’t want to.”
“It still didn’t mean I wanted to take your sister as my wife. I abhorred the idea. I fought tooth and nail, but the Throne needed your father and his clan. I did ask for the woman to be you and I still wish I didn’t. I regret it so immensely. Had I not done that…"
He looks at you pained and reaches out, probably to brush your cheek, but stops himself mid motion. He looks away.
"You've become a target overnight. Not only did they use your safety to force me into the marriage, they also made your life harder by putting you in the Tailor's Chamber."
"They?" You manage to ask.
"My father, your father. Their advisors. If I had just kept my mouth shut… But I was young, Sukwon, young and madly in love. In the end I had no choice but to marry."
"I am not sure how much she knew, but she knew enough. She kept reminding me that she was my lawfully wedded wife and I shouldn't keep dreaming about another. But I couldn’t, how could I, Sukwon? You were right there, I was wearing clothes made by you everyday. And she is your sister."
"I did everything that was expected of me. I laid with her, I was polite, but I was never warm - and it was driving her crazy. She knew they were keeping the one I loved hostage, and that was the only reason I came to lay with her on auspicious days. Who told her it was you, the one I loved? I don't know. I am still searching for that person. The moment I heard about the branding I knew it was her, who else it could have been. No one but her. And yet you kept quiet. It was killing me so much. How could you suffer it in silence? Why would you keep the secret? Why would you protect her?"
"But then you came. To me. You came knowingly that I loved you. You acted on it. How could I refuse? Sukwon, I am a weak man when it comes to you, but, please, don't hold it against me. I knew you wanted protection. I knew you wanted revenge. And I knew you. We grew up together, you were a vicious little thing. Hardened and stubborn. You came with a deal, you were willing to sell yourself to achieve your goal."
"Oh, Sukwon, had I been a better man. But I am not. I asked you, as clearly as I could, to state your wishes. I insisted that you ignore my standing. I could have helped you, but I manipulated you. We both know I can't shed my heritage and the deal was clear, your body for my protection."
"Sukwon, I am so sorry. I got drunk on your body, telling myself it was enough. I thought your body was enough, I longed for it for so long. I believed it was lust. It wasn't. And it started to disgust me. I was disgusted with myself and yet, I blamed you. So I stopped seeing you, and stopped my protection. That was the deal, I thought. Your body, for my protection."
"And then it happened. I slipped. I laid with her. I wanted to forget you. I wanted a willing, not forced, body in my bed. I showed affection."
"She became pregnant. And your clan didn't need you anymore. And so the Minister of Treasury did what he did. I am sure it was long pent up anger."
"Sukwon, I nearly killed them when I heard what happened. But it was my fault. Our child, their death, it was my fault. Had I been a better man, Yong might have had an older sibling."
"And once again you came for my protection. I swore I would protect you, I couldn't let you down again. I had to protect you, because even if your indifference hurt my feelings and my pride, I loved you. I love you."
"I am not a wise man, Sukwon. I know I erred. And it cost you your skin and your child. And I will never stop atoning for that. Nor do I wish to. My pain is nothing compared to yours."
"But that's also why I won't stop until you are the rightful owner of the Inner Court, until your name is right next to mine in our family book. Until you’ll be known as a Mother of the Nation.”
“Sukwon, I love you. My love for you only brought you turmoil. I forced myself on you and I forced our son on you. And I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, also because I can’t bring myself to regret it.”
“Even now I am telling you that because I know you won’t leave me. I violate you, I keep you captive, all because I love you. Sukwon, I wish I was a better man, but I am not. I will never atone for what I’ve done, and what I’ll keep doing, because, my love, I will keep you by my side and I will raise you to my level. And every step of the way I will be apologizing. But I can’t do much else for I can’t live without you.”
He stops, looking at you, silently asking for… Understanding? Forgiveness? But you won’t give it. It was his fault. It was his fault that you became a target of Queen’s ire. The sign on your hand, the miscarriage, the never ending row between Tailor’s and Embrodiery Chambers - it was all his fault. You believed yourself to be so sneaky, so cunning, and now, once more you feel used.
…like the likes of your Father…
“You are like my Father,” you finally say. He recoils, looking away. You feel nauseated. You can’t even believe his love. Desire? That much you can believe. Love? No. “Excuse me, sir.”
“Sukwon, please…”
You don’t look back as you walk out of your pavilion. It’s the first time in weeks and Woo Palace Lady can keep surprise out of her features. King’s eunuch eyes you, eyes furrowed. He seems worried.
You want to say something, but you fear you’ll cry as soon as you try. So you don’t and walk out without a word. Your entourage scrambles to follow you.
By the time you come back, you can hear Yong crying. You hurry inside, immediately feeling guilty. King’s entourage is standing outside of your chamber, visibly anxious. Eunuch seems to be relieved when he sees you and he doesn’t even try to announce you - opting for just opening the doors.
King is alone inside, walking around with Yong in his arms and he snaps to the entrance as soon as he hears doors being open.
“I said no to disturb me!” He roars, but falls silent abruptly when he sees you. You don’t wait for him to get his bearings, you go straight for your son. The boy is red from exertion, wailing with all his might.
You soothe him as the King stands awkwardly to the side. You are raging inside but you put it aside to take care of Yong. That boy you love and you’ll love whatever happens. You’ll do your utmost to ensure he will get the best in life, you’ll make sure he’ll get what is his by right.
“Your Highness,” you say into the darkness some time later. Yong is back asleep and you are laying in your nightgown with the King beside you. You refused to engage with him, you said nothing when he pleaded with you to do so. A few hours earlier you were trying out different forms of endearment. He doesn’t say anything but you know he is awake and listening. You’ve spent enough nights in his chambers to recognize the signs. “Since you know my secret, I will not force myself to keep the farce. But I will hold you to your word. Not for my sake, since it’s easy for you to forsake me, but for your son’s sake.”
You wait for him to say something but he keeps quiet. Irked, you turn away from him and force yourself to relax.
As the sleep comes, you hear gentle sobbing behind you.
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