#always love him and stay by his and the boys’ side… please please please send him and the boys good vibes and messages | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

da-proti-toku-grem · 1 day

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17 Jance mayhaps (if you already did it I'm sorry, I love ur style and reading your prompts!!)

Thank you so much 🥰. I think I've officially lost the battle with my “I'm keeping these short” thoughts because this is almost 1.8k oops 😅.

As always, ao3 link at the bottom if you prefer to read it there <3

(Rating: Mature)

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

17. … to distract.

“Please, Nacko,” Jan begged from his place on the couch.

Knowing that they had an interview the next morning, Nace had offered Jan to stay at his house. After all, it was no secret that the guitarist was by no means a morning person and, being the one who lived closest to where the interview would take place, it seemed only reasonable to offer him a place to sleep without the need to drive from Vrhnika to Ljubljana in the early morning.

And maybe – and just maybe – something inside his chest was also tickling under the pretext of seeing Jan's gorgeous face when Nace inevitably woke up before him, his features relaxed and his hair tousled. No one needed to know that, though. He was more than willing to take the secret to his grave. It wasn't like someone like Jan would ever look at him that way, anyways.

Once they arrived at the apartment, Nace offered Jan a glass of wine. The bassist himself didn't drink anymore, but he liked to always have something to offer to his guests – in this case, a bottle of red wine.

And that's how they had gotten to this situation, Jan sitting cross-legged on the couch, an empty glass on the small table in front of him and looking up in the direction of Nace, who was standing on the other side of the table, with his pajamas already on and holding the bottle in his hand.

“I've already told you, Jan,” he said, a hint of tiredness in his voice. “You know that on any other occasion I wouldn't mind you drinking more, but we have an interview tomorrow and we can't risk you having a raging hangover because you drank the whole bottle of wine by yourself.”

“...Please?” Jan asked again, pouting and looking up at him with those beautiful dark puppy eyes that had no right to be so adorable. That, combined with the fact that his improvised pajamas were his boxer shorts and one of Nace's old t-shirts that was definitely too big on him – the length reaching almost halfway down his thighs and the collar being so wide that it left one of his shoulders exposed, as well as a bit of his chest hair – was definitely not helping Nace keep his thoughts pure.

He thought about how his hands would feel exploring the skin under the t-shirt or pulling on those gorgeous black locks, how he'd look up at him with his big brown eyes just like that while Nace fucked his mouth, taking it all like the good boy he knew he could be; how he’d love to kiss and bite and mark that exposed skin on his shoulder and neck until everyone knew who he belonged to, how he'd beg even prettier for Nace to touch him, to make him feel good; how he'd look all sweaty and ruined with his head thrown back, moaning Nace's name at the peak of his pleasure as he pounded into that sweet spot inside him over and over and-

Nace really needed to stop his train of thoughts right there before this ended in a terribly embarrassing situation.

“I'm sorry, okay?” He smiled at him apologetically, setting the bottle down on the table as he took a seat on the other side of the couch, hoping the other didn't notice the slight blush he felt creeping up his cheeks. “I know you probably don't want to go to sleep yet so… anything else you want to-”

The question died on the bassist's lips as he suddenly felt Jan straddle his thighs, resting his hands gently on his chest.

Nace simply remained still, his body a bit tense and his eyes wide open in surprise. He still didn't look at the guitarist's face, a million questions running through his mind when all of a sudden the weight of the younger man in his lap and the burning touch of his hands on his chest clouded his senses.

Eventually, he dared to look up, finding Jan's eyes, those eyes that made Nace's knees go weak and that accompanied him in his most sinful fantasies, looking back at him with that smirk he always had plastered on his face when he had an idea. He knew exactly what he was doing and Nace had fallen right into his trap.

“Hello there, Mr. Jordan,” Jan said, his deep voice reverberating in Nace's brain, as his hands went up to cup his cheeks.

He didn't respond, his own hands moving to Jan's thighs, over his t-shirt, while his eyes were flicking from the other's eyes to his lips and then up again and oh how much he'd like to send it all to hell and close the distance between them and-

Before he knew it, Jan's lips were on his.

Nace didn't move his hands, the uncertainty of not knowing how far Jan was willing to take this surpassing the urge to touch every single part of the other's body; but he started to reciprocate the kiss, taking everything Jan had to give him and trying to burn it into his memory, almost as if he was afraid that it was all a dream product of his treacherous imagination and he might wake up at any moment.

Their lips moved slowly against each other, his mouth opening in a silent invitation that Jan didn't hesitate to take, tongues dancing together in a rhythm known only to them.

Everything was so sultry, so sensual, so… Jan. It was intoxicating. And Nace didn't think he would ever get enough of this.

All too soon, the guitarist broke the kiss, pulling away completely and taking his place back on the couch. Nace immediately missed the warmth of his body pressing against his own.

“W-what was that for?” he asked after a few seconds, trying to sound nonchalant despite the deep blush he felt covering his face.

“Nothing,” Jan shrugged. “Can't I just kiss my really hot friend?”

At that, Nace looked up, meeting that mischievous grin before his gaze finally fell on the bottle that had somehow ended up in Jan's hands. Little shit.

“Oh hell no, come here,” he tugged at his arm and in one swift motion took the bottle from him, setting it safely on the table, and took him back into his lap, making him let out a surprised gasp.

“Well, I guess this will do too,” Jan smirked, moving his arms up to wrap them around Nace's neck, tangling his hands in the soft curls at the nape of his neck and drawing him into another kiss.

Nace didn't hold back this time, all the blood he had been trying to suppress from traveling south now rushed to his cock as his hands began to caress the body of the man on top of him.

The touch of his cold hands against the warm skin of his thighs sent a shiver down Jan's spine. Nace's hands traveled up his thighs, slowly slipping under his shirt until they reached his waist, grabbing it and moving his body so they could start grinding against each other.

Deep groans escaped their mouths the moment both of their already half-hard dicks brushed against each other, making them break the kiss, their foreheads pressed against one another as they breathed heavily into each other's mouths.

Without halting his movements, Nace leaned close to his ear and whispered: “Did you just want to distract me so you could get another glass or are you just a horny little slut, baby?”, catching the lobe between his teeth to emphasize his words before starting a trail of open-mouthed kisses and little nibbles along his jaw and neck.

The sound the younger man let out and the way Jan's hips jerked forward of their own accord, beginning to grind down more desperately, told Nace everything he needed to know.

It was still fun to tease him, though.

“I need words, honey. Or do you want me to stop?” he said teasingly. As if you'd be able to stop now that you finally have what you've been dreaming about for so long, the rational part of his brain told him.

“Please don’t stop.” Jan whined. “F-fuck, God knows how long I've been waiting for this.”

That sound, that plea, the meaning those words entailed all sent an electric jolt straight to Nace's cock. He sounded so beautifully desperate and– God. Jan Peteh was going to be the death of him.

“Oh yeah? Do I make you hard, baby?” he punctuated his words with a particularly hard thrust of his hips.

“So damn much, you have no idea. Fuck, have you seen yourself?”

Jan buried his face in Nace's neck, exploring his skin with his lips and teeth, careful not to leave marks in a place that would be visible during the interview and paying special attention to discover the bassist's most sensitive spots. Nace tilted his head to the side to grant him more access.

Neither of them could stop the soft little noises escaping their mouths, getting increasingly louder as Nace's hands started to roam all over the younger's back. They came to a stop at his ass, cupping Jan's cheeks over his boxers and pulling him even closer.

The increased pressure on his crotch caused the guitarist to pull away from Nace's neck, throwing his head back and exposing his throat as a sinful moan escaped his lips. It was probably the most erotic thing Nace had ever seen in his entire life.

However, as heavenly as the dry humping felt, Nace wanted – needed – more. He needed to feel skin on skin with the man that had been occupying his every thought ever since he officially joined the band.

He slowly licked a strip up his deliciously exposed throat, a smug smile spreading across his face at the shudder that ran through Jan's body.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom, kitten?” he asked, his deep voice accompanied with a little squeeze on his ass making Jan blush furiously.

Instead of answering, Jan smashed their lips together in a hungry, passionate kiss.

Nace took that as a yes, placing his hands under Jan's thighs and lifting them both off the couch to start the short walk to his room, grinning into the kiss when he felt Jan's dick twitch at the casual demonstration of strength as he wrapped his legs around his waist.

As he closed the bedroom door and threw a very flushed and now fully hard Jan unceremoniously on his bed, Nace made a mental note to treat him to all the red wine he wished for the days to come.

masterlist | ao3

#i'm actually proud of this one hehe hope you like it 🤭#also this is the 20th prompt like WHAT :O #joker out #jan peteh #nace jordan #jance #ask #mine #maca writes #kiss prompts #i just think jan should be called kitten in fics more often and i couldn't help myself

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tokyo-debunkers-headcanons · 3 days

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ya know how jin usually wears his jacket uniform around his shoulders? my brain literally does not shut up abt this so would it be possible to request a romantic headcanon/drabble with frostheim and vagastrom boys where they give their jacket to the reader (and ur reasons for why you think they do) :’)

Thank you for sending in a request!

JIN KAMURAI

he doesn't give his jacket up easily, just be aware. And as stated before He's not big on PDA but I think he'd get a little jealous if they were out and about together. If they were really cold He'd give it up, but he'd absolutely complain about it first. (CAPTAIN! DRABBLE SPOTTED ON STARBURD SIDE!)

Jin glared around at the dirty Vagastrom pit. If it wasn't for MC being there for a mission, he wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this for fun. He didn't trust those thugs to make sure MC got back to their dorm okay. When he finally spotted them, he made a B line for them, noticing some general students getting too close for comfort. He stepped in, using his powerful voice and stigma, saying,

"Stand down you thugs!"

Jin swiftly walked up to a shocked looking MC, taking off his jacket and throwing it over their shoulders. He placed a hand on their shoulder, glaring daggers at the general students and guiding MC out of there. When they were out he grabbed their hand and started leading them. Without taking his eyes off of where he was going he said,

"From now on, whenever you come to this shit hole. You take my jacket, is that clear?"

TOHMA ISHIBASHI

Okay, Tohma would give them his jacket if they were cold but I think it would be more of a shield from others if that makes sense. Like to cover them up or to comfort them when something is happening. (WELCOME TO THE DRABBLE DOME!)

Tohma narrowed his eyes as he watched MC leaving Frostheim for the day. He had spotted some general students milling about and getting closer to MC. He stayed where he was until one of the students had tried to grab their arm. In what seemed like a flash, Tohma was there with his typical smile. He held on to the offending students wrist tightly, his composure never cracking. After a moment he let go of the students wrist, and slipped off his jacket, placing it over MC's shoulders. He looked down at them saying,

"Please do forgive them MC. It seems I will have to teach them proper guest etiquette"

KAITO FUJI

Kaito would TRY to give MC his jacket like he's seen in movies and magazines. But he would get WAY too worried about if there was some sort of stain on it from lunch or if it smelled weird. Like if its raining, he'd be too worried about the condition of the jacket to realize MC either ran for cover already.....or is already soaked from the rain. (WE ARE LIVING IN A DRABBLE WORLD! AND I AM JUST A DRABBLE GORL!)

Kaito took a deep breath and shifted his uniform jacket as he walked MC back to their dorm. He saw on his phone that it was supposed to rain today and he purposefully 'forgot' his umbrella. As they were walking it started to drizzle, before quickly turning into a downpour. Kaito thanked whatever diety was out there for this chance. He swiftly took off his jacket, draping it over their shoulders and grabbing their hand to run back to MC's dorm. He laughed along the way, picturing what it looked like to MC. what he thought was a cute scene from a movie.....was really him dragging MC by the hand in the pouring rain. When they finally DO make it back to MC's dorm, they're both sopping wet and MC says,

"Thanks for lending me your jacket and all Kaito.....but i hope you know there's a hole in one of the sleeves."

Kaito died a little inside when MC told him that.

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

Luca, being the lovely English gentlemen he is. He will always give MC his jacket even if it's just a little windy. He would beat himself up if MC got sick when they were with him. (EXTRY EXTRY! DRABBLE FOR ENGLISH BOI!)

Lucas had sent MC a message to meet him in the library to do more research on both their curse and demons. He was making his way to the library, when he spotted them. He waved and jogged up to them, a small smile on his face. He grabbed their hand and gently squeezed it. Keeping their fingers interlocked while they walked together.

MC was mentioning something that happened in one of their classes when Luca felt a drop of something hit his nose. He looked up, noticing clouds overhead. Without hesitating he took off his jacket and placed it on top of MC's head to shield them from the rain. He pressed his hand against their lower back gently guiding them into the building. MC fussed over how he was wet, but he brushed it off with a smile and a soft hand on their cheek, saying,

"I'll be fine MC. I was more worried about you. I wouldn't ever want you to get sick. I promised to protect you after all"

ALAN MIDO

Okay to start with, Alan doesn't wear his jacket. He HAS one, he just doesn't wear it. He has a vest though so its CLOSE ENOUGH! But with his vest, they HAVE to tell him that they're cold AND ask him for his vest. He has no objection to give it to them if they're cold. But his mind is on other things, he's not gonna get the hint if they just tell him that they're cold.

Alan was on his back, working on one of the cars in the Vagastrom garage while he waited for his partner to show up. Tonight was supposed to be date night and they agreed to spend some time together doing seperate things (its called parallel play for those who don't know!). He rolled out to grab a drink of water and a different tool when MC walked in. They were holding their arms and shivering slightly. He greeted them and went back under to work on the car.

MC sat down on the couch and cleared their throat. Alan rolled back out and asked them what was wrong. When they told him it was cold, he offered to get them a blanket or something. When they refused that offer, he didn't know what else to do and went back under. MC sighed and got his attention by calling his name. He rolled back out and asked,

"Did you change your mind on that blanket?"

MC had not and just asked him straightforward,

"Alan sweetie, I'm cold. Can I please borrow your vest?"

He thought about it for a moment before telling them no, then getting up and walking away. MC sat there SHOCKED. For a moment they were upset, but after a minute or two, Alan came back with a uniform jacket, tossing it towards MC, saying,

"Wear that. It'll look better on you than me anyways"

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

I feel like Sho would hand MC his jacket whenever he's either about to cook, or about to fight. He'd give it to them if they were cold sure, but he'd complain about them not being prepared.

Sho made his way back to the Vagastrom dorms with bags full of ingredients. He texted his partner MC to show up with an appetite. He was glad to see MC already at the dorms by the time he got back and parked Bonnie (his bike) properly. He raced past them into the Vagastrom kitchen, urging them to follow.

When they came in, they saw Sho adjusting his bandana to keep the hair out of his face and taking off his jacket. He held it out to MC saying,

"Hang onto this for me babe. I'm about to make a master piece"

Seeing the fire in his eyes, MC gladly took his jacket, slipping it on and sitting down at the kitchen counter. They watched as he expertly cooked: cutting vegetables, frying and double frying meats, even his plating was mesmerizing to watch. When he was finished he set the hot plate down in front of MC with a smirk.

LEO KUROSAGI

Leo would NOT give them the jacket he wears. Its a very expensive jacket that he got from a brand deal. The only time he would willingly give MC his jacket is if something happened and they were really really upset (not at him though)

Leo sighed as he walked to MC's dorm. He didn't bother knocking as he came into the old cathedral. He looked around calling for MC. He eventually found them curled up in bed, sobbing. He cringed a bit, not entirely comfortable with such intense emotions. He took a minute to think before sighing dramatically. He sat down on the edge of the bed and threw his jacket over their sobbing form. He put a gentle hand on their back, saying,

"Just try not to get any tear streaks on it, okay?"

#tokyo debunker headcanons #tokyo debunker #headcanons #frostheim #Vagastrom #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #kaito fuji #lucas errant #luca #alan mido #shohei haizono #sho #leo kurosagi #doing my best #GET JEBATED CHAT!

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cle-levanter · 8 months

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i’m grieving channie’s room like it’s the death of one of my family members

#honestly fuck this company #he’s working himself to the fucking bone for them and they do this #and the fact that we had to learn that through a damn fansign too? no explanation allowed?#i just hope chan doesn’t blame himself #jype just lost a big part of what made skz special to many people and what brought many stays to stayville #i’m so fucking disappointed and sad rn #I’ve had hope for the last 3 months… but guess I shouldn’t have #people who have chan’s bbl —> please send him lots of love and encouragements; remind him he didn’t do anything wrong and that stays will #always love him and stay by his and the boys’ side… please please please send him and the boys good vibes and messages #as if life wasn’t hard enough already #i (we) just lost sth I (we) looked forward to every week and that did so much good for stays and stayville in general #ig I just miss him dearly #almost every time when I could watch I shed tears during the screen hugs bc it just felt so good #ily chan; stays love you never forget it #stray kids #bang chan #chan’s room #channie’s room #lia.txt

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luveline · 6 months

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bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!

thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem

The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him.

He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell.

James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party."

He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head.

You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric.

"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says.

"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit."

James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences.

"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down."

"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence.

You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.

"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.

Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?"

"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk."

"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart."

"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini."

"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk."

"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–"

"Oh, please don't start," Remus says.

The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal."

The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove."

"Eternal doesn't mean better."

"Then what does it mean, Sirius?"

You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company.

"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you.

"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing."

Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way.

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cozage · 8 months

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Congrats on 2k!!!!

For the request I was wondering if you could do the ASL boys confessing to their childhood friend that they've had a crush on:) and if it's not too much could you add shanks as well?? It's okay if not!

I love your writing it's the best just make sure you're taking care of yourself!! <3

A/N: Some of these are kind of subtle, but I think subtle is their way of confessing after that long :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Sabo, Luffy, Shanks CW: Marineford spoilers Total word count: 873

From Friends to Lovers

Ace

“She looks like your type,” you mumbled, nudging Ace. A girl at the end of the bar had been eyeing him all night.

“And how do you know my type?” Ace asked, raising his eyebrow at you. He was slurring his words just slightly; enough for you to know he was drunk.

“Please. We’ve been friends forever, and we’ve sailed together for two years. I know what kind of girls you go for.” You laughed, pushing down the jealousy that churned in your stomach.

“You must not,” Ace said, leaning his head against you. "I'll stay right where I am."

“Go talk to her,” you urged. “It’s not doing you any good being by my side.”

He frowned at you. “What do you mean? I’m already sitting next to the hottest person in the bar.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove.

“I’m serious.” He had a newfound urgency in his voice. “You’re the only one for me. You’ve always been the only one for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. There was no way he could be serious right now. He was drunk and stupid.

He saw the bewilderment on your face and gave you a goofy grin. “Are you just now realizing I’m head over heels for you?! I thought I had made that obvious from day one!”

Sabo

You stared at the man before you, unsure how to react. He looked like Sabo. He definitely acted like Sabo. Even his name was Sabo. But it had to be a coincidence.

“No,” you said. “Sabo died. Sabo died a long time ago.”

“There was this one winter day where we went sledding,” he said. “We raced Ace and Luffy down the hill a hundred times. They kept trying to beat us, but they never could. And then Dadan made us go inside and gave us hot chocolate and let us all sleep together in one big bed that night because it was so cold. I said it was the best day ever because we got to spend it together.”

Tears filled your eyes as he spoke. “You died,” you whispered again.

You were talking to a ghost. You were afraid any moment you’d wake up and be left alone again. Just like when he had died. Just like when Ace had died, and Luffy had disappeared.

“I lost my memories from the head injury and was taken in by the Revolutionary Army. I only remembered after I saw the headlines about…”

“Ace,” you whispered, tears spilling over. It still hurt to think about.

“I’ll never leave you again,” he promised. “Come back with me to the Revolutionary Army. We’ll keep you safe. I want to hear about everything.”

“Sabo-”

“Please,” he begged. “I know I just remembered you, but my heart has ached every moment we’ve been apart. I just found you again and I’m starting to feel whole. Please-please don’t leave yet.”

Luffy

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy!!!!” Luffys voice rang out from above you, and you instinctually braced yourself.

He slammed into you, sending the both of you falling to the ground. You screamed out in glee as rubber arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

“It’s been a while, Luffy!”

“I can’t believe it’s really you!” He shouted. “What are you doing here?”

“This is my home, idiot!” You laughed, trying to squirm out from under him.

Moving away from his grip was proving to be quite difficult though, considering Luffy’s body weight was on top of you, his arms still tightly around you to prevent you from moving.

“Your home was Windmill Village. I’ve missed you since you left.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you suddenly enjoyed his closeness “I missed you too, Luffy.”

“Sail with me and my crew,” he said, pulling away slightly to look in your eyes, begging you with his big, dark eyes. “I want you to join me.”

You raised your eyebrow. “I have a life here, Luffy. I can’t-“

“Make a life with me!” He whined. “Come on!!”

“You still want to be King of the Pirates?”

“I can only do it with you by my side.”

Shanks

A red-haired man sat down next to you in the bar, glancing your way.

“Come here often?” he asked, sliding your favorite beer over to you.

“Only in town for the week.” A smile danced across your lips. “My pain in the ass captain has us on a tight schedule.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his jolly laugh, the room brightening as his voice echoed through it.

“He sounds like tough work,” Shanks said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“He is!” You took a long drink of your beer. “I’ve been sailing with him my whole life, I think I would know.”

He smirked. “And you’re not tired of him yet?”

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I could never get tired of you.”

Your words caught up with your brain, and your cheeks turned a deep pink at the realization of what you had said.

“Good, because I’ll never get tired of you either. ” Shanks gave you a softy, gentle smile and cupped your cheek with his hand. “So you’re stuck with me for the rest of time, okay? You’re all mine.”

“Of course, Captain.”

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zepskies · 3 months

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Headcanon: Teasing him under the table.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: This was requested by this lovely anon:

Could you please write an imagine or something of all three boys (Dean: love the plus-sized one-shots; Ben from BMD: love your interpretation of The Boys; and Beau) - and how would they react to their girlfriends giving them a footsie? 👀

I'm interpreting this as a "playing footsie" moment lol.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Flirting, innuendo, and some smuttiness. (You know Ben. 🙄)

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to you teasing him under the table.

Dean Winchester

Because of the request, I had the Espresso-verse version of Dean and the reader in mind, but this can be general Dean x Reader too.

Dean is playful by nature. (AKA: a professional flirt.)

He enjoys working you up, but he enjoys it even more when you're confident enough to tease him back...even if it somehow always surprises him.

But he's been driving you crazy all damn day. Throughout the whole damn hunt.

Flirty smiles, suggestive quips masked as "innocent" remarks, brief touches to your arm, the small of your back, guiding you by your hip, a thumb swiping under your shirt and against your skin, lightly pressing into your curves...

It's all "normal," except for the deeper, suggestively teasing glint in his eyes.

He's in a good mood, and he wants you to know it.

And it's all in front of Sam, who knows the game you two are playing. Sometimes he smiles in both amusement and fondness, and he looks away to allow you guys your moment. Sometimes he rolls his eyes, or just tries to ignore it when he's had enough of you two eye-fucking in plain sight.

Dean knows what his touch does to you, but you know one or two of his weaknesses too...

When the hunt is finally over, the three of you find the closest diner to the motel you're staying at.

Dean orders the greasiest burger you've ever seen. He also teases Sam for already looking for the next case with his laptop at the table.

Dean glances over, his lips starting to curve as he licks a bit of burger juice off his fingers. He looks at you dead in the eyes while he sucks his digits clean.

He's equal parts noisy and disgusting. But damn him, your hand tightens around your glass of water. Your lips press together, and so do your legs. You nudge his foot with your boot and raise your brows. Stop it.

He pouts, and he nudges your foot right back. Make me.

You tilt your head at him. Adopting a certain smile, you slide your foot across the floor, under the table, and graze his calf with the side of your boot.

Dean's lips twitch. Sam is seemingly oblivious as he continues researching on his laptop.

Your foot travels higher up Dean's leg, up the inside of his thigh. You only gasp a little when he suddenly reaches down and grabs your ankle. His resulting smirk is salacious, even as he challenges you with his eyes. What're you gonna do now?

You contemplate exactly that, when his brother's voice startles you.

"Can you guys do me a favor and quit it?" Sam asks. He doesn't even look up from his laptop. "At least wait until we get home."

You bite your lip and blush. Both you and Dean fight harder smiles at being caught.

"No one likes a killjoy, Sammy," Dean remarks. Sam just sends his brother a dry look.

Dean's amusement remains. He taps on your ankle in contemplation, but after a moment, he lets you go. He grabs his phone and texts you under the table.

"Quickie out back?"

You grimace, then you text him back.

"Gross, babe. There are things I promised myself I'd never do in a public bathroom."

"So...meet you in 5? Come on, I'll do that thing you like. 😈"

His stupid grin, his stupid face, his long fingers tapping on the tabletop (somehow, even that is suggestive). It all eventually breaks you down.

"...Ugh, fine," you reply. You slide out of your chair first. But as you walk past him, you let your fingers brush down his neck — in a way that always makes a little shiver run down his spine. You smirk in satisfaction as you walk away.

He might've started it, but you could damn well finish it.

Beau Arlen

Oh, my dear cowboy sheriff...

Beau is also a jokester. He takes his work and the people in his life seriously, but he likes to keep things "loose." Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but it's mostly just his way of going through life.

Tonight, however, is a tense dinner with your parents, Beau, Emily, and his parents that are visiting from Houston.

It's a nice steakhouse, more high scale than you or Beau are used to, but your parents insisted on it. Beau's parents are good-natured and full of southern charm. They're just happy to see their son and granddaughter, let alone meet his girlfriend for the first time.

The night is only tense because, as much as you love your parents, they're not sure about you dating a man with such a dangerous job.

They also have a thing about appearances, and the fact that he's divorced and has a child who isn't yours, and frankly, all the things you don't give a rat's ass about.

Your back is ramrod straight in your chair (there's a tightness in your spine that comes every time your mom taps you on the hand with her fork to remind you not to slouch).

You can't even really taste what you're eating, because you're too focused on making sure your parents don't say anything insulting to Beau and his family.

Then a boot taps against your open-toed heel. You glance over at your boyfriend, and he's already wearing a smile. He gives you a teasing wink as he eats a forkful of mashed potatoes.

Your stress begins to melt, just like that. God, this man.

You smile back at him and take a calming sip of wine. Your mom begins to talk about her upcoming tupperware party. Your smile deepens, but not because of that.

You playfully tap your foot on Beau's without looking at him.

You feel his discreet stare on the side of your face, but you pretend to be invested in your mom's conversation about tupperware. (I mean really, I thought those parties went extinct. Apparently, not in the Midwest.)

Beau's foot nudges yours back. You hook your toes under the hem of his pant leg, inching it up and up...

He retaliates with a hand drifting down your thigh, over the skirt of your dress. He grabs just above your knee and squeezes. Your leg jerks up on reflex, and your knee hits under the table hard enough to rattle the silverware, making you yelp.

The whole table looks over at you in both surprise and concern. (Your mother more in disapproval.)

Beau bites his lip against a deeper smile.

"You okay there, baby?" he asks.

"Sorry, my foot slipped," you lie through a tight smile. When you turn to him, your eyes narrow a fraction, promising retribution. You grab his hand tightly, but he just uses the motion to bring yours up to his lips.

Beau looks forward to whatever you plan to dish out next, as long as you wait until after dessert.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Aw hell, this guy. 😂 I'm imagining BMD-verse Ben for this one...

Ben has a decent sense of humor, but he doesn't often like to be teased.

He'd rather be respected.

But you love to tease him anyway.

You also know his "limits," but it doesn't stop you from figuratively tap dancing all over them when you have the opportunity. You're slowly but surely trying to get him to loosen up.

Sometimes though, it bites you in the ass.

Like tonight, when you've gotten him to come with you to a Broadway show. You two have your own private booth on the second floor balcony. (He likes the privacy, and it's safer for you, as he's argued.)

20 minutes in, and you can already tell he's gotten bored. To be fair, it's a drama that's admittedly a bit dry and slow. You don't want him to walk out before the intermission, so you start to hatch an idea...

Your legs are crossed, and you draw your high-heel slowly against the side of his foot. When he glances over you, you pretend to be invested in the show. Your arms are crossed over your black dress that falls to mid-thigh. Your jacket is draped across your lap.

You brush the thin point of your heel across the top of his shoe, then inch it up under his pant leg, higher and higher.

Until Ben's hand finally grabs hold of your knee. Biting your lip, you turn to him with a smile.

"Do you mind? I'm watching the show," you tell him. He allows you to peel his hand of your leg and place it back in his lap. You cross your legs in the opposite direction.

Ben raises his brows. His lips twitch slightly, but he seems to acquiesce, relaxing back in his seat.

For a while, you actually watch the play. You become invested in the story and the characters by the time it gets halfway through Act 1.

That's when you feel a strong hand slowly slip down your thigh and between your legs, slowly rucking up the skirt of your dress.

You try to stifle a gasp as you look over at Ben. He doesn't meet your hot stare, but his hand is certainly on the move, covered by your jacket. He brushes against your panties.

Against your better judgment, you let him spread your legs wider. A smile finally crosses his face. His fingers hook around your underwear and brush between your folds. You let out a shaky breath and shift in your seat.

You know you should stop him, but you can't help the warm coil of arousal starting pool in your lower belly, and between your legs. Ben feels it with a smirk. His fingers find your clit with ease.

"Ben," you gasp, warning him in a heated whisper.

He leans over and presses a raspy kiss to your neck, thanks to his beard.

"Perks of a private room," he says. His voice is a low rumble in your ear.

You start to shake your head. You know you started this, but you also know him. This has the potential to go off the rails very quickly.

"This isn't a room. We're on a damn balcony," you breathe out, even as his fingers continue to work you over. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Anyone could—"

"Who gives a fuck?" Ben says gruffly.

As usual, his raunchy brand of logic (and his talented hands) manage to persuade you to give in.

AN: lol I had fun with this one. Let me know what you think! 💜

Dean Winchester Imagines

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Dean, Beau + SB Tag List (Part 1)

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moonpetrichors-blog · 1 year

Note

hiii! i love ur avatar writing and i was wondering if u could write something about neteyam x reader, where they're childhood best friends but then some na'vi guy start to show interest in the reader and neteyam gets all jealous and realize than maybe he's in love with them? idk if this make sense, english is not my first language, sorry :((

All Mine

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Aonung x Omaticaya!Reader (Only Slight), Fem!Reader, Childhood Friend Romance, Friends To Lovers, Jealousy, Anguished Declarations Of Love, Neteyam Loses His Cool For Once

Warnings: Neteyam Daydreaming About Punching Aonung LMAO

Neteyam was walking along the beach with his siblings when he spotted you, talking to the Olo'eyktan’s son. It had never crossed his mind before that you, his childhood best friend, would eventually find someone to romantically pursue. Was it wrong to realize he wanted you to himself, and not in the arms of another boy?

OMG IM SO OBSESSED W THIS IDEA!!! If theres one trope I love, its a jealous love interest 🤭 also, trust me when I say ur English is perfect!! Fun fact but English is also my second language and growing up I was ass at speaking it LMFAO so ur not alone 😭☠️

Yellow Hyacinth - Jealousy

* ˚ ✦ 1663 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/01/23] ❞

It had been roughly a week since you arrived on the Awa'atlu village's shoreline. When you initially arrived, the Olo'eyktan's son harassed you relentlessly.

There were many things he liked to call you. Freak, weirdo, dimwit, you name it.

There was nothing freak-like about you, per se, but the fact that you were from the forest made you a target to Aonung's bullying. What skills could a woodland girl teach sea people? It was dreadful that you had to hide among them in the first place.

Technically, you had no obligation to go into hiding with the Metkayina clan, but you felt as if the Omaticaya had nothing left for you when your childhood best friend, Neteyam, informed you that he and his family needed to flee.

When Neteyam initially told you that he had to abandon your clan, including you, you wailed into his arms as if he had just perished. You couldn't bear the thought of not being with Neteyam, even if it meant compromising your clan's safety.

The truth is, you overreacted so harshly because you’ve had feelings for Neteyam for years now. You’ve always been unsure if he reciprocated, but there were moments between the both of you where he’d send mixed signals; you didn’t know what shifted or when, but there was just something between you both that felt like you were more than just friends.

And now he wouldn’t be able to stay and see how your relationship would unfurl.

Maybe you were foolish to persuade Jake Sully into bringing you along, but he eventually agreed (albeit reluctantly), since you and his son made each other happy. Neteyam was pleased when you told him you were departing with him.

So there you were, well acquainted with the Metkayina, and accompanied by your dearest friend. Aside from Aonung's pestering, you could put up with it since you knew Neteyam would safeguard you.

However, the more time that you spent with the sea people, the more you began to suspect that it was only you who had detected something between you and Neteyam. You stopped sending hints, even if he overlooked them unintentionally, as it stung too much to persevere.

Aonung eventually stopped attempting to harass you, and you even developed a pleasant friendship with him. Tonowari, his father, had him apologize for his poor behavior; after that, he was actually fairly delightful to converse with.

This was your life now.

...

Neteyam sauntered along the coast, followed by Kiri and Lo'ak. He couldn't take his mind off you; were you safe? Was Aonung bothering you yet again? His father had chided him that he didn't need to be at your side all hours of the day, but he didn't quite understand why his father was amused when he talked about how Neteyam behaved with you. You were his best friend, of course he’s worried!

Regardless, Jake instructed him to keep an eye on his siblings, so he didn't have much of a choice in abandoning them and running to your rescue. Not with Lo'ak prowling behind him in search of trouble.

Neteyam maintained his walk, thinking to himself that he was exceedingly fortunate that you had left the clan for him, and although he wouldn't say it, he was overjoyed.

What he wasn't so thrilled with was how he'd discovered you'd grown closer to that jackass Aonung. You could talk to anybody you pleased, and he knew you were far too pure-hearted to entirely dismiss the Olo'eyktan's son, but why did he feel so bitter whenever he saw you together?

Speak of the devil.

Kiri pointed you out, but when she saw who you were with, she shuddered. “Look, it’s Y/N! And... Aonung.” She deadpanned.

Neteyam was paying little heed to what his sister was saying. No, he was paying close attention to how you were giggling at whatever Aonung said.

What the fuck?

Lo’ak nudged his shoulder. “Bro?”

Lo'ak waved his hand in front of Neteyam's face, which he instantly swept aside. What exactly did Aonung say to make you laugh that hard? You only laugh when you're with him!

Neteyam was practically seething, his fists clenched into balls, as Kiri and Lo'ak snickered to each other out of his earshot. If Kiri didn't know any better, she'd suppose Neteyam was thinking about the finest ways to strangle a (what might as well be) merman.

And truly, he was.

Lo’ak held his fist to his mouth to stifle his laughs. “Dude, are you jealous?”

Kiri placed a hand on Lo’ak’s shoulder, and looked away with a smile plastered to her face. “He totally is.”

Neteyam’s rage was now being directed towards his siblings. “What? No I’m not! Why would I be jealous?”

Lo’ak was still chortling when he pointed behind Neteyam, motioning that he should probably look. He turned around indignantly, and saw that Aonung had a hand on your arm. He was close. Too close for his liking.

And that look. Anyone could see that Aonung was flirting with you. He was maintaining direct eye contact with you, narrowing his gaze. He appeared to be listening carefully to what you were saying, but his smirk paired with his eyes passing over your lips indicated otherwise.

Neteyam just wanted to pummel his stupid, blue face in.

Kiri and Lo'ak burst out laughing as they witnessed Neteyam storm over to where the two of you were. He aggressively inserted his own hand where Aonung's own had originally been, shoving your body into his own by the shoulder. The unexpected intrusion caught you off guard.

“Oh! Neteyam!”

You beamed at his arrival right away, but Aonung frowned. Before you could enquire what Neteyam was doing, he stared daggers into Aonung's head, and hauled you away from him by your bicep. Aonung remained there stunned, staring at your back as you walked away.

“What the hell?”

Kiri and Lo'ak tripped over themselves on their way over to Aonung, howling with laughter, and Lo'ak smacked his shoulder in amusement.

“Sorry cuz, you never stood a chance!”

Aonung’s cheeks darkened deeply. He was thoroughly mortified; he had no idea you were and Neteyam were like that! (You’re not.)

...

Neteyam began to lose confidence throughout the walk once he had pulled you much further away. While you shouted at him to let you go, he inwardly cursed at himself, wondering why he had just done that.

Does he like you?

Your vehement protests about how Neteyam was causing you pain eventually ceased falling on deaf ears. His rage vanished when he realized he'd been treating you like a ragdoll for the entire walk, and he immediately felt horrible. He let go of your arm and buried his face in his hands, ashamed that he had done such a thing to you in the first place.

You rubbed your sore arm, and nudged his shoulder gently. “What’s wrong?”

He looked way too upset, and you rarely saw him like this, if ever.

“Why was Aonung looking at you like that?”

That struck you with irritation. “Are you serious? That’s what this is about?”

His eyes darkened at your words. How could it not be?

You started to raise your voice. “You cannot be for real. You’re just my friend, why are you being so overprotective? If Aonung likes me, that’s my business! Not yours!”

Neteyam snatched your wrist again, evidently upset by what you just uttered. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore. “The only person that can look at you like that is me!”

You went quiet for a time, then realization dawned on your features. “Hold up... do you like me?”

Suddenly, Neteyam’s gaze softened, and he could no longer be furious with you. “How could I not?”

He released your wrist, unsure of what to say next. When he noticed your prolonged silence, Neteyam whirled around, prepared to walk back to his home and cry his frustrations out. He was fighting back tears already; what was the point of telling you this anyway?

You gripped his shoulder and forced him to swivel around and face you. Neteyam could not cover his face, and he felt humiliated because he didn't know why he was acting in this manner. Why was he weeping over a silly look?

He was caught by surprise when you cupped his face in your hands, and wiped the stray tears away. Your irritation had completely dissipated. “You have nothing to be worried about.”

He sniffled. “Why?”

“Because I’ve liked you since forever, but I didn’t think you liked me back. There were so many mixed signals, and you never picked up on my hints, either!”

Neteyam was taken aback. He was at a loss for words.

You rolled your eyes. “Just kiss me, you big idiot.”

Your hand that was on his shoulder was now suddenly imprisoned in his grip, and he jerked you towards his body, lips crashing into yours. He pressed against you with ardor, as if you'd vanish if he didn't embrace you like you were the last Na'vi on Pandora.

Your nimble fingers found purchase in his braids. His hands slithered around your waist, drawing you flush against him, effectively deepening the kiss. He needed you so near that he could only sense your lips against his. When you would try and pull away, his desperate kisses would follow.

You feared Neteyam had forgotten you needed to breathe, because you had to roughly pull his head back by his braids to eventually get him to halt his feverish actions. The minimal bit of pigment on your lips had now smeared, a mark left by Neteyam that claimed you as his. Who the hell taught him to kiss like that?

As you both merely stared at each other, stunned, Neteyam spoke through labored breaths. “All mine?”

“I’m all yours.”

Bonus!

Lo'ak sipped his fruity iced drink, having witnessed the entire exchange from a distance. He patted Aonung's back.

“You wish that was you, huh?”

Aonung punched him.

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amiableness · 2 months

Text

Safe Place

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius isn't happy about y/n going on a date, turns out the guy is an ass, but that doesn't matter because Sirius gets the girl in the end

Warnings: Language, eader is called a slut, smidge of violence [let me know if there's anything i can add]

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N 💌: Repost!

"You want advice? About Isaac Lowell?" Sirius's voice was disdainful, but that didn't stop you from continuing your mission. Instead, you plopped down next to him on the common room couch, body facing his.

"Sirius, please. We've been flirting and-"

"When? I'm with you nearly all the time." Ever since you waltzed into the common room and asked him about one of the few Gryffindors he disliked, he's had a permanent scowl on his face.

"Why didn't you want to ask me for advice, love?" James pouts in the chair across from you both. From the chair next to him, Remus lets out a snort, proving he's listening in despite supposedly reading.

"Why would she ask you for advice when Lily hardly acknowledges you?" James kicks Remus' chair, making him laugh.

"Sod off, mate! I'm making progress with her." James grumbles and sinks back down into the chair. Sirius nudges you to gain attention from the two boys sitting before you.

"Dove, when has he been flirting with you?"

"During your quidditch practice. When your busy fucking around with James, we've been talking after." Sirius' scowl deepens at your answer.

"Has he now?" At the sound of the venom in his voice, James and Remus both share an amused glance. You simply roll your eyes and shuffle closer, propping your head up on your hand that rests against the back of the couch, and give Sirius your best puppy eyes.

"Siri, please." Your voice has turned honeyed and sweet, the one you always use when you want something from him. Sirius swallows hard and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. He'll never admit it to you, but when you use that voice on him, it sends his mind spinning.

"He's an ass and treats girls like shit. I'm not giving you advice about him."

"Sirius! This is the first time a guy has really shown interest in me. What if he asks me on a date, and I don't know how to act?"

"You act like yourself on a date, love. If he doesn't like you for yourself, then he doesn't deserve you." Remus chimes in, and James nods enthusiastically next to him.

You sighed, "Alright, maybe just being myself will get me a date with him."

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Sirius has watched you throughout practice, refusing to let Isaac Lowell flirt with you now that he knows it's been happening. Your face is buried in a book that he knows Remus has loaned you, but occasionally, you glance up at the pitch. The pink dusting your cheeks after making eye contact with Isaac has his blood boiling and his body tense.

"Pads! Have you heard a word I said?" James complains as he nudges Sirius in the side. He's determined to stay focused at the end of this practice and give Isaac a moment to swoop in and chat you up.

"Christ, this Y/n and Isaac thing has wound you up." James mumbles when he follows Sirius' eyes to your figure. They're both headed in your direction, and Sirius desperately tries not to jog over there.

"She deserves better than him. He just wants to sleep with her."

"Can you really be the one that bitches about that?"

Sirius doesn't answer, watching tensely as Isaac jogs over to you. He's too far to tell what is being said, but based on your reaction, it's more flirting. The blush on your cheeks and the fact that he can hear your laugh from here drives him crazy.

"Potter, Black!" Isaac greets you when they both make it to the both of you. You have a blinding smile, and Sirius selfishly wishes he were the reason for that smile.

"Lowell! Great practice, mate!" Sirius tunes out the rest of the conversation and sits next to you. You quickly rest your head on his shoulder, and he relaxes slightly at your touch.

"He asked me on a date." You whisper excitedly, eyes darting over to James and Isaac to ensure they don't hear. Sirius feels his stomach drop, and he isn't sure if it's because of who you are going on this date with or if it's the fact you are even going on a date. The last couple of days have had him questioning his feelings for you.

"We're going to Hogsmeade this weekend." You continue, and when he doesn't respond, you grab his hand, shaking Sirius out of his thoughts. His eyes darted to yours for a second before he resumed his glaring at Issac. He watches in satisfaction as Isaac squints uneasily at the sight of you holding his hand.

"That's great, dove. We'll see you there then, the boys and I are going this weekend too." The easy smile he sends you causes yours to dim.

"Don't you dare mess with my date, Black," You warn while squeezing his hand. "I want this to go well."

"You like him that much?" Sirius asks, trying to ignore the sick feeling that creeps into his stomach at the thought.

"I think I could end up liking him that much." You answer after hesitating for a second. Your gaze finds Isaac chatting with James, and you shrug.

"The point of the date is about determining that."

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

You find yourself walking through Hogsmeade with Isaac and immensely regretting your decision to come on this date. The afternoon had been filled with backhanded compliments or comments that made your skin crawl. You were beginning to wonder if Sirius was right about him. Godric, you hoped you would run into him soon.

This is what you get for trying to go on a date to get over Sirius, you thought bitterly.

"So you and Black?" Isaac smirks knowingly, causing you to feel uneasy.

"Sorry?" You squint your eyes at him and cross your arms over your chest.

"I saw you with Black after I asked you out. You two are very touchy." The tone of his voice set you on edge. This wasn't the boy who asked you out a couple days ago.

"I have always been that way with him."

"Acting like a slut around him?" Your mouth drops open in shock, and you stop to face him.

"Excuse me?"

"If I knew you were so desperate for him, I wouldn't have asked you out," Isaac says, looking like you were inconveniencing him.

"Then you should have canceled the date!" You nearly shout, causing a couple people to glance in your direction.

"I wanted to see if you would treat me as well as you treat Black." Your first slamming into his jaw quickly wipes off the smirk on his face. His head flies to the side, and he quickly raises a hand to cover the sensitive skin, sending you a death glare. You have never been more grateful to Sirius for teaching you how to throw a punch.

"What the fuck!"

"You're a disgusting prick, so that's how I'll treat you." You spin around, determined to walk away before he sees your tears. A mix of anger and embarrassment settles in your stomach as you attempt to get away from Isaac as fast as possible.

It only takes a little while before you stumble upon the boys huddled outside a shop. James is the first one to spot you, calling out your name and grabbing the attention of the rest of the boys.

Sirius's' head snaps up at your name and immediately spots you a few away, tears running down your cheeks.

"Dove?" He barely takes a few steps before you rush forward and toss your arms around his neck. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against him.

The boys watch as you let out a sigh, like Sirius' touch is enough to calm you. Sirius isn't much better. He's busy mumbling sweet nothings into your ear as you sniffle, pressing a couple kisses to the slide of your head.

"Christ, could they look any more in love?" James mutters, watching the two of you cling to each other.

"You were right," you mumbled seconds after enjoying Sirius holding you. "Isaac's an ass."

Sirius doesn't get to pester you with questions because you pull away slightly to look up at him. Sirius keeps his arms firmly around your waist, not wanting you to stray too far away.

"I should've never have gone on that date."

"Baby, what happened?" Your stomach flips happily at the nickname and you can't help the smile that makes its way onto your face.

"I realized he wasn't what I wanted in a boyfriend. That and he was a total ass."

"And what do you want in a boyfriend?"

"What do you think, Black?" There's that honey voice again and before he can fully process it, he's leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. You let out a surprised squeak, but waste no time in kissing him back.

"Oi! Snog on your own time; we have places to be!" James shouts.

"Fuck off, go without us." You have barely pulled away from Sirius, just enough to wave James off before Sirius tugs you back to him causing you to let out a squeal.

"You're telling me everything that went down on that date when we're back."

"I know, but right now I'd much rather kiss you." Sirius grins at you before kissing in a way that makes your stomach flutter and your toes curl.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black x y/n #sirius black #sirius black blurb #sirius black fluff #sirius black angst #sirius black x you #sirius black one shot #sirius black x fem!reader #marauders era #marauders #marauders x reader

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ballroamblitz · 9 months

Text

caramel pie | J.P

summary: james smells caramel pie on the amortentia potion

james potter x fem!reader

word count: 3.750 content: teeth rotting fluff, angst warnings: crying, reader blushes notes: one thing about me is i love me some amortentia fic with a side of james fluff ughh also i listened to glue song by beabadoobee while writing this :) p.s i accidentally posted this on my side acc so if anyone wanna be mutuals my main blog is @beastofbrden :)

- Someone please, kindly remind me why I decided that continuing Herbology after the O.W.Ls was a good idea? - Y/N huffed out, sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

The four boys sitting around her laughed.

- Learned a lot today, uh? - Sirius asked, ironically.

- Oh yeah, loads! We had to feed toad flesh to those terrible toad-eating plants. For some reason, mine just didn't feel like eating it without regurgitating it all back on me!

The boys went hysterics, and even the girl couldn't help but laugh along.

- There's still a little piece there - James pointed. - Here, let me take it out for you.

He took out a small chunk of toad flesh off her hair.

- Well, may I remind you, Y/N, that no one told you to keep up with Herbology. We all dipped from it while we could and no one else has pieces of toad on our hair - Sirius noted, clearly getting a good laugh out of the girl's toad disaster.

- I just didn't want to hurt Sprout's feelings!

She sighed and brushed her hair with her fingers, only then looking at the food in front of her.

- Merlin, I'm starving! Could eat anything right now.

- Even toad? - Remus joked, sending the group on another laughing crisis.

By the time of dessert, Y/N started scanning the table for something. Clearly not finding it, her panic started showing.

- Oh no. Where's the caramel pie?

- They didn't serve any today - James replied, needing all the strength on his body to stay deadpanned. The other three boys were deep in conversation, and him being the one sitting closer to Y/N (as always) only he noticed the girl's agitation.

- What??? What do you mean they didn't serve any? In the six years I've been here they never not served it and I can't believe they chose today to…

- I'm just joking - James pulled a plate that was hidden behind the steak pudding, smiling playfully at the girl - Saved it for ya.

- James! I would go mad if they stopped serving this pie, y'know! - she let out a relieved breath.

- Nah, don't worry. They will keep serving it, or I would fight the elfs for ya.

- One day I’ll hide your figgy pudding, then we’ll see.

- You wouldn’t dare, missy.

James watched with a soft look on his eyes as the girl took the first bite of her favorite dessert.

- Thank you for saving me a piece, Jamie - she leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment to show gratitude. When she got closer, he smelled the vanilla scent of her hair and the caramel pie on her lips.

After lunch, the five went straight to Slughorn's classroom.

- Good evening, dears, good evening! Now if you could get up and get closer, I want to show you something!

The whole class shifted near the table Slughorn was sitting behind.

- Here, we have a very special potion. - He pointed towards a bubbling caldron full of a crystal clear liquid - Very tricky to make, very characteristic and perhaps one of the most dangerous we can brew. Can anyone tell me it's name?

Y/N's hand rose in the air.

- Yes, ms. Y/L/N.

- It's Amortentia, or simply the love potion. Since true love can't really be produced by any sort of magic, it causes more of a crush or an obsession.

- Correct. Ten points to Gryffindor! - Slughorn smiled.

- Nerd - James whispered, messing up Y/N’s hair.

- Sod off, Potter.

- You see, one of the most intriguing things about Amortentia is its scent. Everyone smells something different, because its scent is completely dependent on what each person feels personally attracted to. Now, who wants to come forward and tell me what it smells like?

No one volunteered. No wonder, since it's a very particular thing to simply say in front of a whole classroom.

- No one? I'll pick someone then. Let me think... - Slughorn scanned the faces around. - Ah! Mr. Potter, you will do.

James was caught by surprise. He had been distracted by the warmth radiating off Y/N, that was almost resting her head on his chest.

- Me? - he asked and pointed towards himself.

- Of course you! Is there any other Mr. Potter?

The whole class laughed as James stepped closer, his signature boyish grin splashed on his face.

- Now Mr. Potter, lean in and smell the potion.

James ran his hands through his hair and did as told. One single sniff and his smile fell off his face completely. The scent was unmistakable: vanilla and caramel pie. Vanilla body cream, caramel pie for dessert, everyday. He had the urge to see if Y/N wasn't standing next to him, but he knew she hadn't moved from across the table. He knew he had to lie. If he said what it smelled like to him, everyone would know it was Y/N's smell.

- So, Mr. Potter. Whenever you are ready to share.

He looked at where Y/N was. She was looking at him, just as well as everyone else. She looked relaxed, the potion's glow making her look specially pretty, angel-like. Think of something, fast. Something not at all related to what you are really smelling, something like...

- It’s wood and broomstick polisher.

- Very well then Mr. Potter. Looks like you've got a thing for Quidditch, uh?

The class laughed, and everyone looked convinced. James Potter, Quidditch captain, smelling broomstick polisher and wood? Fitting. James high-fived himself for his quick thinking, and let out a relieved sight. Now, no one would go around thinking the wrong things.

Later that night, in the common room, however, the potions class was almost burning a hole through James' head. Slughorn said Amortentia smelled of what attracted each person the most. Attraction was romantic, sexual attraction. But Slughorn had been pretty vague, hadn't he? He could've meant attraction in any context. It could mean anything. It could mean platonic love, right? If Slughorn didn't think much of James smelling Quidditch, it probably meant it could smell of anything the person liked a lot, right? But it was a love potion. That caused passion. And Slughorn said he had a thing for Quidditch. A thing. But he didn't have a thing for Y/N! He loved her, of course. Everyone knew she was his best friend, they did everything together and she was probably his favorite person in the world. Yeah, maybe he went to extreme lengths to see her happy, and yeah, maybe he was a bit too affectionate with her, but she was his best friend.

- Can't do homework anymore. - James was ripped off his thoughts by Y/N's presence. She threw her backpack at the ground in front of the sofa he was in and layed down - My brain feels like mush.

James looked at her. Her head was resting on his lap, and she looked extremely comfortable. That was obvious, since they always had been this affectionate towards each other. They both were very touchy people, and it felt natural to be in constant physical contact. James was always happy, eager even, to be like this with her. In a platonic way. Obviously. Today, however, her skin on his felt like it burned.

- How was it? - James asked, coughing to conceal the way his voice failed a bit in the first word.

- Homework? Awful. It's not that difficult, but it's too much. And it just seems pointless, you know? What will I actually learn from writing 19 inches about toad eating plants? Nothing, I tell you what! - The girl sighed and closed her eyes again - Just wanna go to sleep, really.

He didn't know what to answer. He normally would have made a joke about the plants, added more criticism about essays or something. But he didn’t even do his homework, with how paranoid he was. For the first time ever, he was completely speechless in her presence. Her eyelashes were resting peacefully on her pink cheeks. The light from the fireplace made her skin look more flushed, and her hair had a golden glow to it. She looked awfully pretty. James knew that, of course. She had always been pretty. But tonight.. when she moved her head a little bit, he smelled the amortentia smell. Vanilla and caramel pie, just as strong as it was that afternoon.

- You are way too quiet today, Jamie. - She opened her eyes and he felt something weird in the pit of his stomach - Ate too much pudding?

- Yeah, probably.

She stretched and yawned, sending another wave of vanilla and caramel pie to James' nostrils.

- Going to bed - she got up. Her hair was messy and the light from the fireplace behind her looked like a halo. - Night, Jamie.

She lowered herself and pecked his cheek lightly.

- Sleep well - her soft voice was way too close to his ear, turning James' legs into jelly.

He watched her going up the stairs to the dormitory, and the place she had kissed burned long after she was gone.

He had no reason to be this nervous for the potions class the next morning. Slughorn had already moved on from amortentia, since it was a difficult, dangerous and time-consuming potion to make, but James was half hoping the potion would be brought up again, and half hoping everyone would collectively forget about it completely. Slughorn didn't mention the potion again, moving on directly to Felix Felicis. He watched the whole class on the edge of his seat. He had decided he would ask the teacher about the potion just to calm himself down. Just to make sure. Everyone had been really concentrating on making the best draught of living death the whole period, but James just wanted the class to end so he could ask Slughorn and stop eating himself alive.

- Alright, alright. Congratulations mr. Snape on your draught. Truly outstanding! - Slughorn said, raising a round of applause - Class dismissed!

Everyone started to gather their backpacks and leave, but James made sure to stay back. He pretended to be very interested in a weird type of algae that Slughorn kept in a little ampoule. Just a few more moments and then he'll say that no, I don't have romantic feelings for Y/N and that i just really like caramel pie or something, and then i'll stop going mental...

- Gillyweed. - Slughorn’s voice dragged James off of his daydreams

- Uh? - James frowned in confusion, wondering what the teacher was talking about.

- The algae you're looking at, Mr. Potter. Gillyweed. Helps the person breathe underwater.

- Oh, yeah, right. Professor Slughorn, I was wondering if I could ask you something.

- Sure, my boy, ask away - Slughorn encouraged while distractingly stacking some parchments.

- I was wondering… about the Amortentia potion.

Slughorn stopped his movements and lifted his eyes directly to James.

- Oh, I see - He looked very amused, for some reason. - What were you wondering?

- Let's just say a friend of mine smells it and it reminds him of someone. It could smell like someone he just truly cares about, couldn't it? Like, it doesn't necessarily mean he's in love with the person that the scent reminds him of, right?

Slughorn's lopsided smile grew bigger.

- I'm afraid, no, my boy.

- What? - James felt like the classroom got three times smaller and hotter by the minute - But I smelled wood and polishing oil, and I'm not in love with a broom, am i?

- Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter... - Slughorn chuckled. - I think we both know you didn't smell any of that.

James felt his face getting warm and red.

- But, if you did, that would mean you have a crush on a Quidditch player, let's just put it like that. Amortentia is a very strong love potion, and we can only smell things in it that romantically attract us very deeply. Those of us that aren't in love with anyone would smell something quite abstract. But if this friend of yours smelled amortentia and recognized the scent as someone's, then boy do I have news for him. Does this answer your question?

- Hm, yeah, sure. - James agreed. He felt like he was gonna fall down from the absurd speed at which his mind was racing. - Thank you, Professor.

- Anytime. - James began to leave, completely out of it. - Oh, and Mr. Potter?

- Yes? - James turned around, hopeful that Slughorn would start laughing and admit he was joking.

- Tell your friend I wish him the best of luck with this new, blossoming love.

As James went out of the classroom and up into the common room, he deeply regretted not stealing that ampoule of gillyweed and swallowing it whole. That way, he could spend the rest of his days in the black lake with the merpeople. I bet amortentia wouldn't smell like anything down there, he thought.

For the rest of the week, James spent every waking hour trying to not think about what Slughorn said and what it meant, and he was succeeding. He kept himself busy with classes, Quidditch and even homework. He also did his absolute best to avoid everyone. He ate before anyone else and made sure he was far away from the great hall by the time he knew Y/N and the rest of the Marauders would go down to eat. In classes, he sat very distant and left early. He even pulled some pranks he didn't even feel like pulling on Filch to get detention in the nights he couldn't schedule Quidditch practices. He walked the halls in the invisibility cloak. Anything to keep his thoughts away from the big fire alarm going off inside his head. The only problem was that he missed Y/N in all of those moments. When he was doing homework, he missed the sound of Y/N's pen scratching the parchment next to him. While he ate, he missed the warmth of her body next to his, the satisfaction humming while she ate her pie . He missed laying down together after homework. He missed seeing her on the stands at practice. He even realized that the real fun in pranks wasn't the actual thing, but to see Y/N laughing hysterically afterwards. To put it quite simply, it felt like he was sleep walking all the time. He couldn’t go on avoiding her forever, but what he was gonna do, he had positively no idea.

Until Friday night.

It was late, and he had been in detention. Filch had made him write “I shall not turn the school’s trophies into pigeons” a hundred times, and his hand was hurting from all the repetitive writing. Normally, he would have complained, but this time, he was glad for the distraction. Enjoying detention, he thought bitterly while crossing the fat lady, I must be really going mad. His grouchy thoughts were interrupted by a sound. It sounded like.. crying. Or better yet, it sounded like someone was sobbing their heart out. He looked around the empty common room, but didn’t see anyone. He followed the sound to the sofa near the fireplace, where he and Y/N always rest after studying. Before you turned into a chicken.

Y/N was laid on the sofa, her face buried in a cushion, her whole body shaking with her sobs. James was flooded with panic.

- Y/N, baby, what happened? - he cooed, his voice altered with anxiety. Y/N never cried, except when something very serious happened.

Y/N looked up like she thought she was seeing visions.

- Jamie? - her voice was soft and shaky, her eyes were puffy and bloodshot red, like she had been crying for multiple hours. The hurt on her eyes broke James’ heart in a thousand pieces.

His mind raced with possibilities: maybe someone was mean to her? Maybe someone died? Maybe she was hurt? The thought of her being in pain panicked him even further. He sat down and pushed her into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder.

- Are you hurt, baby? Where does it hurt? Please, tell me.

She cried violently on his shoulder. He inspected her legs for bruises, but she seemed well physically.

- Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, I can’t stand to see you like this - he begged. - Did someone hurt you?

The question seemed to trigger something on the girl, because suddenly she was on her feet, out of his arms.

- Did someone hurt me? Seriously? - the tears streamed down her face, but her eyes glimmered with something new: anger.

James was confused, to say the least. He noticed that she was wearing one of his old sweaters, one that had vanished from his suitcase a few weeks ago.

- Baby...- he begged some more.

She looked as if he had twisted a knife on her wound.

- Don’t you dare “baby” me, James. Not after ignoring me like the plague for a whole week!

Oh. Oh. James had been so involved with his own confusion regarding the amortentia incident that he forgot almost completely that Y/N didn’t know what he was doing, or why. She was crying because he hurt her feelings. That was a lot worse than if she was crying because of another person: he could’ve gone out to kick said jerk’s ass. But if he hurt her, what was he supposed to do? Punch himself?

-Y/N - he cooed, apologetically. - Y/N, I…

She showed him her palm, urging him to stop talking.

- You don’t have to explain wanting to be away from me. I’m sure you had your reasons. But you could have at least told me that you wanted some space from me, or something, because I’ve been miserable, and…

She thought he wanted space from her. The sorrowful shaky breath that escaped her lips mid-sentence threw him over the edge.

- No, no, no… - he repeated while pushing her back into his lap - Oh my god, Y/N, no…

He caressed her hair while she sobbed violently on his shoulder. Her fists were closed tightly on his shirt, her tears dampened his neck, and he couldn’t recall the last time his heart ached this badly.

- Did I do something? Did I bother you? I’m so sorry.. - she whispered softly, like she was voicing what had been repeating in her head over and over again during the last few days. Her words were laced with anger, resentment, but, above all, hurt. He wanted to double over in pain.

- Listen - James lifted her chin up gently, forcing her to look into his eyes. - I’m the one who’s sorry.

The tears kept coming, but she was listening.

- I shouldn’t have avoided you last week, and it’s not your fault, okay? It’s my fault. I’m the one who got scared.

She looked confused.

- Scared? Of me?

James would have to confess what happened at Slughorn’s class. He had given zero thought about his messy feelings, and even though unraveling them in front of Y/N scared him endlessly, he would have to do it, because he could never let her think that he wanted space from her. That he wanted anything but to be close to her, at all times, if he could.

- Please - she asked, incisively, noticing his wariness. - Tell me.

He took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable, raw. As if he would undress himself fully in front of her.

- Remember Slughorn’s class about amortentia? - Y/N nodded, encouraging him to move on - He asked me to smell it, right, and I…

- You said it smelled like broom polisher.

- Well, yes. But I lied. - he decided to avert his gaze to the ceiling, or else he would never talk. - It was caramel pie and vanilla cream. So, I smelled… you.

Silence. A moment, two. He couldn’t muster the courage to look at the girl. He felt her hand grazing his cheek, urging him to look at her..

- Jamie… - She looked wonderstruck, and his heart seemed like it wanted out of his chest - Really?

- Really.

James was sure he’d never seen something as beautiful as Y/N after his response. She was smiling the biggest, most shiny smile he had ever seen on her face. Her eyes shined like gemstones at him, so soft he wanted to cry.

- Do you want to know what I smelled? - she asked, soft as a feather.

His heart somersaulted when she brought her face closer to the side of his neck. She whispered on his ear:

- I smelled… - She sniffed his neck once - Sandalwood - another sniff, followed by a chuckle - Broomstick polisher…

She distanced herself, looking deep into his eyes.

- And homework parchment. And fireplace naps. And figgy pudding.

His heart was hammering against his ribcage. Y/N smelled him. On the amortentia potion. Him.

- Y/N - James whispered, all warm and fuzzy on the inside. - Really?

She didn’t answer, just grabbed his hand, the warmth and softness of her skin overwhelming his senses. Placed his hand on top of the point of her chest where her heart was. Through the fabric of his shirt, he could feel her heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. She never unglued her soft eyes from his.

She likes him. Suddenly, all the thoughts he had been avoiding throughout the week came crashing down on him, like a dam.

James was an affectionate friend. He liked physical touch. But he never liked it half as much as he did with her. James was a thoughtful friend. He remembered things about his friends. But he remembered every single thing about her. He was a sensitive friend. He hated to see his friends suffering. But every time he saw her cry, it was like his heart was being crushed. James was an attentive friend. He loved spending time with friends. But when he was away from her, he couldn’t even function properly, like he was missing one half of him. Y/N is his best friend. But she is more, too. He loves her. But there’s something else: he is in love. Amortentia never lies, after all.

When his hands tangled on Y/N’s hair, he smelled vanilla cream. When he kissed Y/N’s lips, he tasted caramel pie.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #amortentia #the marauders x reader #the marauders era #the marauders #fluff #harry potter imagine

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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HII!! I'm quite new to making requests, but I was wondering if I could ask for some headcanons: Percy Jackson x Aphrodite!Reader (with a sunshine personality, if that’s okay!). Please and thank you! 💞 I hope it's not too much to ask for. Also, remember to stay hydrated and healthy! And, Take your time!💗

(Quick side note: I made this pink because

I thought it looked cuter!<3 oh and, I’m not sure if you do this but if you’d like to pick like an emoji for me to use as a sign off. Then, that would be quite nice! Because I think I’ll be requesting from you quite often💞)

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs warning: i don't think anything?? fluff ig watch out yall dangerous stuff might make you fall in love 😬😬 author's note: hihi ! this is my first time doing headcannons as well as writing for percy. tbh, i was a little nervous because new things scare me and i don't want to disappoint but i hope you like it!! also i shall dub you...🎀 anon, bc of all the pink 😋😋

okay, mr. loverboy and ms. lovergirl are in the house yall

i know he's head over heels for you the moment he sees you, leading around some new campers, excitedly clapping your hands as to get them excited too. It works, earning a few smiles

he was so distracted, annabeth managed to get the jump on him in the middle of their training, sending the son of poseidon sprawling on the hard dirt of the arena

"get your head in the game, jackson."

"it is!"

"no, i can literally see your eyes turning into hearts right now-"

"shut up!! she might hear you!!"

he spent days plotting, trying to figure out the best way to approach the bubbly daughter of aphrodite.

he didn't want to just come across as like all the other guys who only talked to them because of their beauty. from what percy's seen, you were one of the kindest and lovely people he's known.

one day he was laying on the dock, his foot passively swinging through the water and he muttered stupid pick-up lines or other introductions, all of them equally as terrible.

"mind if i join you?" a voice questioned before a shadow blocked his view of the sun, which he could vaguely make out to be the girl he'd just been lovesickenly talking about.

"y-yes, yeah, of course!" he sputtered out, jumping up and squeezing over, making space for her. she giggled at him, taking a seat with a sideways glance in his direction.

percy felt like he was evaporating

"i like the water, the seafoam especially. because…well, you know," the girl mused, gesturing vaguely with her hand.

"yeah, that's how your mom was born, right?" percy questioned though he knew the answer, he just didn't want her to leave quite yet as he was desperately trying to remember one of the pick-up lines he'd been thinking about. but with the girl around, the only thing running through his head was her.

"born is a loose term, but yes. it's comforting…feels like home," she replied, turning her head to percy and offering him a dazzling smile that he'd pay all the money in the world to see again.

"i know how that feels, trust me," he murmured back before tilting his head at her, a smirk slowly growing on his lips, "where would you go right now if you could go anywhere?"

"easy. there's this target near chicago that always has my favorite lip gloss," the girl replied like it was the most normal answer.

"what?!" percy questioned through his laugh which then sent the pair down a rabbit hole of questions and rebuttals, neither of them noticing how much time had passed until the sun was nearly completely hidden from view, only the last few rays shooting out from behind the mountains.

"Oh, ha, look at how the time fly," the girl muttered, laughing as her eyes got caught on the dying sun

"must've been having fun then," percy replied with a blinding smile and she laughed, shaking her head at the boy.

there was a pause, the two just staring at each other.

then soft movements from the daughter of aphrodite, who gently cupped his face with one hand before pressing a lip gloss coated kiss to his cheek.

"i was definitely having fun. you're fun, jackson, we should hang out some time," she whispered near his ear before moving to stand up, leaving the boy as still as a statue. she walked away, with a few giggly glances over her shoulder.

once he was sure she was gone, percy shot up and cheered, pumping his fists and jumping about all over the dock until he caught his foot and fell in.

and yet, he couldn't seem to loose his smile, even coated in seaweed and muck from the lake.

she always had the effect on him, his bubbly lovergirl.

author's note cont. : anyways, i present ya'll with this. i'm trying to work through all my new requests rn, which is very exciting bc i've never had those before, but do not be afraid to request away still!! anyways, hope you enjoyed, anon!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #percy jackson #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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leilakisakabiri · 9 months

Note

Can I request something with Gavi being barely even home resulting to reader feeling lonely and empty? A fluffy ending please! Gracias a todos!

You're Losing Me (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi's relationship is slowly falling apart - and neither of you know how to save it.

Warnings: Angst. Toxic behavior.

A/N: This request literally revived me so thank you. I’m so excited to write angst hopefully you like it! Also thank you guys for 1k notes on Surprise, here’s my gift to you. Please send requests!

Word count: 6.8k+

Masterlist

It was the fourth Tuesday in a row that you ate alone in your apartment. The fourth time Gavi had skipped out on your plans last minute, sending a quick half-hearted text about one event or the other.

The first time it was because Coach had asked Gavi to stay after practice, keen on teaching him the perfect one-touch shot. Then it was a missed dinner because Jordi Alba had invited him out with some other players, and he just couldn’t say no, because he was finally starting to feel like a part of the family - like the older players had finally started to respect him.

Of course you hadn’t minded the first few times, he had been apologetic enough, promising you that he would be there next time, but each next time took on the next week, and soon the prospect of next time didn’t hold as much meaning anymore. You were accustomed to reading those words by now, and you rarely took time to read over the dwindling text messages anymore, eyes only scanning for those two words, the ones that had become a staple in your relationship.

Next time.

Next time you would cook dinner for him and he would be there to eat it. Next time he would tell you he loved you in person, rather than getting an impassive ‘sorry cariño’. The thought of next time, which once seemed like a lifeline to you, had become a dull reminder of the boy who was just on the other side of the city, only a measly train ride separating you both. Yet the distance seemed much greater.

But now the football season was drawing to a close, and instead of being excited at the notion of having more time to spend together, you felt uneasy and on edge, almost as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, something to come up, making the distance between the two of you that much more tangible.

You felt your phone buzz next to you and your eyes unintentionally went to the clock.

9:45 pm.

The texts were getting later and later each time.

You already knew what awaited you, but you couldn’t help but scan the message regardless.

“Can’t come tonight, only have a few days till the season ends and the guys wanna make the most of it. Be there next time. Noche.”

There it was again, that unexplainable feeling in your chest, like your heart was always one step ahead of your brain, preparing for the loss of something that hadn’t yet left. Your mind was an incomprehensible mess, a jumble of contrasting thoughts and memories, forcing you to overthink situations and undervalue your emotions.

You lifted your head watching your roommate land with a thump on the couch beside you, “He canceled again, didn’t he?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse on the tip of your tongue.

She held up her hand, “Don’t try to defend him. He knows it isn’t fair.”

You avoided her gaze, “You don’t get it. He’s really in demand and-”

“It doesn’t matter that he’s famous or a professional athlete, that doesn’t discredit his actions, or put the blame on anyone but him.”

She continued, “Look Gavi’s a good guy, I like him,” you stared at her, “I do! But he’s stupid if he doesn’t realize that he’s losing you. I know you, and while you might make excuses for him now, I know that sooner or later you’re going to notice that he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve, and you’ll be smart enough to leave.”

You felt the impact of her words full force, like a sledgehammer beating into your body. All the signs were there, right in front of your face, and you had been turning a blind eye, not wanting to admit what your heart already knew.

You knew it. The distance you had felt hadn’t been in vain – every day you could feel the connection between the two of you chip away, so small, you wouldn’t think to notice it till you stood back and looked at the bigger picture.

As a result of both your busy schedules, you both had come up with the idea of having Tuesday night, the most boring day of the week as agreed on, reserved for just the two of you. On Tuesday you didn’t have classes that ran well past dinner time or have to pick up late-night shifts at the restaurant, and he didn’t have evening practice. It was perfect. Tuesday was yours.

Except it had been four weeks since you’d had a proper conversation with Gavi, and you couldn’t help but see the difference in your relationship when you first got together, both eager and determined to spend as much time together as possible, to now, where even if you attended his games, you two still managed to get away without speaking.

You shook your head, “I-I need to take a walk.”

She reached over placing a hand on your shoulder, “Y/n. I’m sorry-”

You shook it off, standing up, “No it’s ok, it’s not your fault. I just need to clear my head.”

You felt the cool night breeze hit you as you walked the streets of Barcelona. It was unusually quiet in this part of town, the lights from the main strip didn’t reach this far out, and for a moment the quiet reminded you of your hometown.

If you closed your eyes, it was almost like you were fifteen again, back in your childhood bedroom, before the ideas of pretty boys with big brown eyes and the weight of managing both university and a job plagued all your thoughts.

You reached a lookout point, the top of the hill dropping to show you the expansive city below. You stared out, the buildings looked so small up here, barely more than a glowing dot in the dark, the cars a blur of soft yellow. You wondered which tiny dot Gavi was in. You wondered if he had checked his phone, seeing that you hadn’t texted him back like you usually did. You wondered if he even cared.

You shook your head trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts.

Your relationship with Gavi was good. He made you laugh like nobody else, whispering secrets in each other’s ears like schoolchildren, making forts out of old sheets in his childhood bedroom when you met his family for the first time. You remembered his sweet smile, the way his eyes would crinkle unintentionally when he couldn’t hold back his excitement or happiness. You remembered confiding in him about school, how you were so stressed because you couldn’t manage eighteen credits while simultaneously holding a job that required you to be on your feet for hours at a time. You could still feel the soft caress of his hand, as he squeezed yours, providing you comfort, cracking a badly executed joke here and there just to get you to smile while listing a hundred reasons why if anyone could do it, it would be you.

So, if he made you feel all those things, why did his absence make you feel so tiny, so insignificant?

Your finger hovered over the call button, and you hit it hesitantly.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

That would be enough.

It rang seven times before the line went dead.

It took you a moment to realize you hadn’t put your phone up to your ear, waiting with bated breath for the timer on the screen to start, indicating he had picked up, but it never did.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, the same unsteady feeling in your heart strumming.

Once.

Twice.

Then it was gone.

You came home to a quiet apartment and your roommate already asleep.

You shuffled into your room silently, you would give it one more week you decided. Next time would be the last.

The next week came, and while it was the first week Gavi had off from training, he had already planned to go to Ibiza to attend a music festival with his hometown friends. He had invited you, but it was more of an afterthought, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to go because of rushed ‘you can come if you want’ and a barely there apology so you left it.

You got an ‘I’ll miss you’ text from him and for a moment it made you smile, filling you with warmth. However, an ‘I miss you’ only did so much, and other than his sweet messages, there was really no intent behind his words.

Now it had been two days since Gavi had gotten back from his Ibiza trip, and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you glanced over and saw a Facetime call from Gavi.

When was the last time the two of you had Facetimed? Maybe two months ago? It was much easier to send a text, the times both of you were free were few and far between.

You answered the call, pushing your textbook to the side. The dark grey interior of Gavi’s car greeted you.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hey, Y/n long time no talk.” Gavi joked, but you felt your stomach flip at the truth behind his words.

“I can’t see you.” You said.

“Oh shit, did I accidentally Facetime? My bad I told Siri to call and she must have Facetimed instead. Let me call you.”

You went to speak but heard the three beeps indicating the call had been cut.

You heard the phone ring again and bit back a sigh. You just wanted to see his face.

You answered on the second ring.

“Hey sorry about that. I wanted to call and tell you that I’m back from Ibiza.”

“Yeah, I know.” You admitted, “I remembered.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, anyways I wanted to ask you to come with me to the Spanish football gala tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

You heard some shuffling and suddenly Gavi’s voice was much clearer and closer to the phone. You assumed he took it off speaker.

“Can you not come?”

You hesitated, “Uhm I’m not sure. It’s so last minute and I’m already scheduled at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just take off?” He persisted.

You felt your brow furrow, “I’m already on the schedule, I can’t just decide to take off the day before, I need to find someone to replace me.”

“Ok, tell whoever that I’ll sign a jersey for them if they do.”

You suddenly felt angry. Why did he think that you could only get a day off work if he helped you out? Were you not capable of handling your own situations? You hated feeling like this, like you weren’t even your own person, just a shadow of who you were with.

“No that’s fine. I’ll just take off like you said, simple.” You couldn’t help but let the bitterness seep into your voice.

He went to say something, probably sensing the shift in your mood, but you cut him off, “I have to go. Bye Gavi.”

You hung up before he could respond.

Finding someone to replace your shift was easier said than done, but after some back and forth, and a promise to Marcus to cover his next two shifts, you were free.

Free to prance around in a hall filled with people you barely knew, with a boy who you thought about more in your memories than you saw in real life.

The night of the gala arrived, and you were decked out, wearing the earrings Gavi had gifted you for your one-year anniversary paired with a necklace you had received after graduating high school.

Gavi had originally said he would pick you up but had sent a quick text earlier in the morning explaining that the team was getting ready together at a hotel, and to just meet him at the venue.

Your roommate had agreed to drive you and you gave her a grateful smile as you got in the car.

“Ana thank you for taking me.”

She brushed the comment off playfully, “No problem. Gotta step up when Gavi steps down.”

You let out a short laugh, “My hero.”

You got to the venue a couple of minutes before you had planned to meet Gavi and nervously walked around, staying out of the path of cameras.

You found someone to take you to a tent where some Barca staff were waiting for the players to start the program.

You walked in, a surprised look taking over your face once you noticed Pedri and a few other players in the corner.

You weren’t aware that some of the players from the hotel had arrived yet.

Pedri noticed your entrance and came over to say hello.

You gave him a quick hug, making casual small talk.

Just ask him, a voice in the back of your head urged.

Finally, you bit the bullet, attempting to sound as casual as possible, “How did you guys get here so early? I thought everyone was leaving the hotel at 6.”

“Ehh, it wasn’t that important, so I skipped it. Half the guys didn’t go anyway, and the other half just went to play FIFA. Besides I beat them every time, so it gets a little boring after a while.”

You tried to laugh at his joke, but could only manage a watery smile, mind running a mile a minute.

So Gavi hadn’t actually needed to go but chose to.

Leaving you alone.

Again.

It wasn’t a big deal by itself. But it was the fact that this was just another item you could add to your ever-growing list of things Gavi cared about more than you. You wondered briefly if you had been wrong, and if he had missed some other event to be there with you, only to remind yourself that you hadn’t seen him in a month, so no, he hadn’t.

You were still grappling with your emotions when Gavi arrived, unsure whether to confront him or just let this be another thing you swept under the rug.

Your reunion, if you could even call it that, was lackluster at best. He had walked in with some of his teammates, immediately going to greet the rest of his team, completely ignoring you standing on the right side of the room with Pedri.

It was only once he asked where Pedri was that someone pointed the two of you out.

You felt your body deflate; he hadn’t even asked for you.

Were you overthinking things again? Maybe he had just forgotten in the excitement of seeing his whole team for the first time after the season ended?

Gavi made his way over to the two of you, reaching out to Pedri first. You watched as they exchanged a hug before Gavi’s eyes floated over to yours.

“Hey.” His voice was casual, like he was greeting a mailman, or thanking the cashier.

“Hi.”

You closed the space, attempting to hug him, but he grabbed your shoulders stopping you, looking down.

You followed his gaze.

“I don’t want to wrinkle the dress.”

You felt your heart thud against your chest, and while you knew he only had good intentions, the rejection still stung.

You stepped out of his embrace, watching his hands drop to his sides, “Okay.”

The carpet went by in a blur, you posed with Gavi for a few photos before moving to the side and letting him enjoy the spotlight, he had worked hard for it. You took a couple of photos with some of the other teammate's girlfriends and wives before you headed inside.

Once inside, there was still some time left before the actual dinner portion of the gala started. The gala was held for all Spanish football clubs as a celebration of their hard work during the season. It was also a great event to network, giving players the ability to talk with different coaches and directors they otherwise might not have gotten the chance to, allowing for discussions of thinly veiled preseason transfers to commence without the fear of unwanted ears listening in.

You found Gavi in the crowd quickly, linking your arm with his. He looked over at you, a smile taking over his features once he noticed you.

“Glad you found me.”

You noticed with great relief that his eyes still crinkled in the corners when he looked at you,

“I always do.”

The next however many minutes spent till dinner service started comprised of Gavi talking with various different players and directors as you stood like a shiny accessory off his arm, too insignificant to be acknowledged in conversation.

The call for dinner provided you solace from the repetitive conversations and mundane questions. You took a seat next to Gavi and were confused to find both Joao Felix and Antoine Griezmann seated at your table.

You leaned into Gavi, “I thought the clubs sat together?”

“Me too. I think they’re doing alphabetical tonight though.” He whispered.

“Which one’s your least favorite?” You looked up shocked at Gavi’s question, watching a boyish grin take over his features as he tried to hide his laugh, interlacing your fingers on your lap.

You shoved into him lightly, “They’re sitting right there!”

He leaned in closer, nose softly grazing your ear as he spoke, “Yeah but between me and you, I think Joao could have had a better season in Chelsea.”

You shook your head in disbelief, fighting back the smile that was threatening to spill out. Your eyes caught his and for a second it seemed like you had been transported back in time, back to when these types of moments were the standard not the exception, back when it felt like you were on each other sides, back when laughter was the antidote instead of tense silences filled with awkward hello’s.

His eyebrow lifted ask if to ask if you agreed with him, and a small murmur of agreement from you was all he needed before he opened his mouth, ready to hammer his point home, but his attention switched last second.

It was like you could visibly see the shift in his demeanor. First, it was his eyes glancing past yours, seeing the midfielder approaching. Then it was the subtle grip on your hand loosening, his fingers slipping through the gaps. Next, it was the complete shift in body, his posture straightening as he leaned his body away from yours, position shifting to face Pedri who had sat in the spot next to him.

To his credit, Pedri acknowledged the both of you but it was clear Gavi paid no mind to you, not evening sparing you a glance as he became immersed in a conversation with Pedri.

You tried to pretend it didn’t affect you and while you could lie to everyone else, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You had built up this evening up so much in your head, telling yourself that tonight would be the shifting point in your relationship and that everything would go back to the way it once was, but it was shaping up to be another Tuesday you had become all too familiar with.

Why did it feel like you were always competing for his attention?

Your mind was reeling, all the small actions Gavi did that you kept pushing aside, were floating back to the surface, each little remark or dismissal a little tug on your heartstrings till you were sure that if you stayed at the table a for a moment longer you wouldn’t be able to stop the onslaught of tears quickly approaching.

You stood from the table abruptly, catching a few people’s attention, but you gave them a polite smile, or at least you hoped it had been polite, you couldn’t focus on anything but the stinging in your eyes and the sinking feeling in your stomach.

You swiftly walked towards the restroom, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone had noticed but your eyes fell on Gavi’s form. He hadn’t even bothered turning around.

Of course, he hadn’t.

Somehow that hurt more than anything else.

You were immensely grateful for the single-use restroom as you locked yourself in, shaky hands coming to steady yourself on the sink.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You were internally screaming at yourself, begging yourself to keep yourself together but the feeling was too overwhelming and before you could stop you felt the first tears slip down. Your shoulders shook as you forced yourself to be silent, embarrassed about someone walking by and overhearing you pitying yourself.

One hand covered your mouth as you muffled your sobs, while the other dug into the stupid marble sink until the skin was pink and indented. The pain acted as a distraction from the unbearable pressure in your chest, and you instinctively pushed your hand harder into the sink.

Your fingers felt numb as you slowly removed them, closing your eyes to steady yourself. It was obvious that you weren’t in the best mental state, but you couldn’t exactly sit in the bathroom for the next hour to sort it out. You had to clean yourself up and go back to pretending.

Yes, pretending, you realized, was exactly what you had been doing. This whole night you had been pretending, pretending everything was okay, pretending that your relationship was fine when in truth you couldn’t even remember what Gavi’s laugh sounded like.

When had it become all pretend?

Was there anything left here? Were your best years behind you both?

These unanswered questions haunted you as you calmed yourself down, wrapping around you like a blanket, one that provided you no comfort but rather a feeling of suffocation.

Finally, your eyes had dried, and the redness had faded significantly. You had gotten your breathing under control, and you felt a little lighter having stopped denying what had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

You took one final glance in the mirror, smoothing out your dress as you exited the restroom.

You walked slowly back to the table. You had decided that if you could just get through tonight, go home, and cry and think some more, then by tomorrow morning you would be able to talk to Gavi and decide what to do.

But that plan had flown out the window when you arrived back at the table to a confused Gavi.

It seemed he had finally noticed your absence.

“Where did you go? They served dinner 15 minutes ago.”

“I had to use the restroom.”

“For 15 minutes?”

“There was a queue.” You lied.

He seemed to accept your answer and you chose to focus on your food rather than him.

You were halfway through your meal when you noticed Gavi giving you a double take from the corner of your eye.

“Your eyes are red.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know why.”

“Are you sure?” His attention was beginning to slip again, eyes darting back between you and Pedri.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You heard your voice waver on the last syllable, a tick you had when you were lying, and Gavi immediately picked up on it, facing you fully.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head not wanting to get into everything here.

“I’m ok.”

“You’re not.”

“Gavi.” You warned.

“What happened? Did someone say something?”

“No. Just drop it please.” Your voice had gone soft, tired of defending yourself.

“Y/n just tell me, I’ll help.” He urged.

You stayed quiet.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, adamant to get an answer.

You felt yourself grow annoyed, why couldn’t he just let it go? Why was he suddenly interested in how you felt? You were just trying to protect what little left the two of you had and he seemed intent on destroying it.

“It’s you.”

He looked taken aback, eyes pooling with hurt and confusion, his body slightly deflating, “W-what?”

The moment was interrupted when the announcer took over the stage, beginning the presentation for the night, highlighting a few key players and matches.

You looked away first, turning to face the stage, clapping along, acting as though you couldn’t feel Gavi’s gaze burning into your back as he desperately tried to get your attention.

Once the presentation was over you were quick to excuse yourself, using the pretense of going to get a drink as a getaway.

You held your breath as you walked, praying Gavi wouldn’t follow you, and while he got up immediately once he noticed, he was quickly interrupted by another player coming to congratulate him, allowing you to slip away while he watched helplessly.

You let out a huff, leaning against the bar trying to slow your heartbeat.

“Long day?”

You looked over to see Joao standing next to you, watching as the bartender poured his drink.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, “Me too. Been a long couple of days actually.”

You smiled, “Actually, it’s been a long couple of weeks.”

He turned his head to look at you, “I take it back. It’s actually been a long couple of months.”

You raised your hand in mock surrender, “Ok I can’t beat that.”

He grinned, “Yeah not many people can.”

Your expression matched his own, and you gave your order to the bartender before turning to face him again, “So how’s the season been?”

“Shit. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m here I played for Chelsea this season not Athletico.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his abruptness.

“Yeah, I saw your first game. A red card first match is pretty brutal.”

His grin only widened, “Oh keeping tabs are we?”

You gave him a playful glare, “Of course gotta know how Barca’s competition is doing.”

“Oh, so you’re a Barca girl?”

“Since the day I was born.” You revealed proudly.

And it was true, even before you had met Gavi, you had loved Barcelona. Growing up in a family of football lovers, your family had declared FC Barcelona as their home club, and you had witnessed so many legends play for Barcelona and so many underdogs find their true passion at the club.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and you gave him a nod of encouragement, pretending to zip your lips shut making him smile, “Ok well it’s always been my dream to play for Barcelona. Messi was always an idol to me.” He confessed.

Your mouth dropped open in shock before you abruptly shut it, your eyes almost widening comically as you spoke excitedly, “What oh my gosh. I’m in shock. Messi? But you play with Ronaldo!” You gasped.

He laughed at your facial expression, as he whispered, “I know! That’s why it’s a secret.”

You nodded along with his words, sending him a duh expression, “Of course, I won’t say anything I promise.”

“Promise what?”

Gavi had appeared by your side, a firm hand set on your waist, as he gently tugged you back into his body.

You peeked up at Gavi to see he was already looking down at you, jaw set. You gulped.

“Nothing much, just talking about the season.” You replied.

You saw Gavi’s eyes flicker between the two of you before he brought you closer, “Can we please talk?”

You bit your lip unsure but nodded.

He slipped his hand into yours as he led you to a quieter area. You waved goodbye to Joao as Gavi pulled you through the crowd, and he held his drink up in response.

He was a nice guy. You hoped next season would be better for him than the last.

He guided you to a standing table and propped your hands on the table as he played with the ring on your index finger.

“This a really pretty ring, is it new?” He asked eyes focused on your fingers.

“No, I got it last month.”

“I haven’t seen you wear it.”

“I’ve worn it every day since I got it.”

“Oh.”

You gently removed your hand from his, knowing that talking circles about something so small was going to get you nowhere.

“What do you want Gavi?” You asked quietly.

His voice came out gravelly, “I want to know how I let it get to the point where you feel more comfortable calling me Gavi rather than Pablo.”

His words when straight to your heart, and you could feel his pain almost as much as you could feel your own.

“I-I don’t know.”

You heard his breath falter, “I miss you calling me Pablo. Hell – I even miss you calling me Pablito. I’d take anything over whatever this is.” He gestured pointing between the two of you.

“Ok then let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about where it went wrong.”

His eyes lifted at your words, “Why are you speaking in the past tense?”

You remained silent.

“Amor please, why are you speaking in past tense?” You could hear the panic building in his voice.

“I think we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Ok we can fix that. No problem.” He agreed, desperate to save what was slowly unraveling.

“But do you want to? Fix it I mean?”

“Of course, I do. Please just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” His voice was almost near begging, and you knew without a doubt that you were in a similar state.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening here, in front of all these people, but it wasn’t fair to either of you to hold it any longer. You had to have this conversation sooner or later and it seemed like tonight was the time for it.

“Sometimes I feel like you don’t have time for me.” You finally admitted what you had been feeling for the last month.

He shook his head rapidly, “I do! But I mean we both have such busy schedules, you have even less time than I do with school.” he argued, “You also have work so that cuts down on the time we have too, but I’m not complaining.”

You were trembling with anger as you spoke, but you kept your voice low, “Yes, because I have to work a job to be able to afford college. I hate the hours probably more than you do, but I do it because I have to. I don’t have an option. I want to go to school? I have to fund it. But you? You didn’t have to go out with the guys after practice or stay around Ansu’s to play FIFA, but you did. That was a choice you made.”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but you weren’t done, “And I’m not even mad about that. I’m mad that for the last month, you’ve put me below every other person in your life, treated me like I’m dispensable, someone who you only consider when you need something. I feel cheap. Like something you only want when it’s convenient to you.”

“That’s not true. You’re my girlfriend!” His voice shook as he spoke, and you realized he was probably just as scared as you were.

“Then why do I feel like I’m not?” Your voice came out soft, barely above a whisper, but it felt like delivering the final blow to an already sinking battleship.

You felt his eyes on you, eyes glazing over as hundreds of unushered words filled the space between you, but the moment was cut short, and you had to remind yourself that you were in public as Xavi approached the two of you.

You gave Xavi a quick hug before he congratulated Gavi on a great season.

Gavi only nodded, murmuring short responses, eyes glancing at you every few seconds like he was scared you would disappear from his life if he wasn’t watching.

He left after a moment, and then the two of you were alone again.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I had no idea that’s why you were working. I would’ve given you the money if you just said something-“

“I don’t want your money Gavi! It’s yours, not mine.” You said exasperated.

“C’mon Y/n you know I have enough to provide for the both of us. You don’t have to work-“

“I don’t want that! In fact, right now I don’t even want to be in this relationship!”

The boy physically shrunk back at your words, your admission sending him into silence as he processed your words.

Finally, he spoke, head shaking in denial, not wanting to admit what was right in front of him, “I-I don’t understand.”

You wanted to yell at him to notice all the signs you’d been sending him, beg him to understand the things you couldn’t say but had always been lurking in the shadows, easy enough to make out if you just paid attention. You wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that Gavi got to pursue his passion while you were being told to give up yours. Your head was filled with millions of things you wanted to say to him, thousands of little moments you wanted to share with him, you wanted to confide in him about how scared you were, how you had never felt like this in your life, how the thought of him slowly falling out of love with you was ripping your insides apart, making you sick to your stomach. There were so many things but not one left your mouth.

“I know you don’t.” Your voice sounded tired, even to your own ears, and you wondered if this was it. If this is where the two of you parted ways.

“I-I’m just going to go home.”

“I’ll grab our coats.”

You placed your hand gently on his, giving him a sad smile, “It’s ok. I think I’ll go alone.”

Neither of you could deny what it meant.

He ducked his head so you couldn’t see his red eyes. There was a moment of silence, and you could tell he was fighting with himself, trying to figure out what to do to stop the inevitable, until he slowly nodded,

“Ok.”

He had just sealed your relationship closed, something you were grateful for because you knew you couldn’t have done it yourself.

He didn’t lift his head as you walked away, and you didn’t blame him.

You grabbed your coat quickly, bidding goodbye to a few people as you made your way out of the hall.

As you walked down the hallway towards the main doors you realized you didn’t have a ride back. Your roommate had dropped you off and you assumed Gavi would drop you back. Well, that wasn’t happening now. Train it was. One glance out the window told you it was raining, downpouring to be exact.

How fitting. At least the weather matched your mood.

You stepped outside, immediately becoming drenched, but somehow you found comfort in it, at least this way no one could see you cry.

You were about halfway down the steps when you heard the door slam open, yelling coming from behind you.

You spun around, surprised to see Gavi stepping into the rain, “Please stay. Please.”

You stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

You were sure he wouldn’t follow you. But he had.

He kept taking steps closer to you, closing the distance, till you were only two steps apart, “Stay.”

His eyes searched your own, looking for something, maybe a sign that there was hope, something you weren’t sure you could provide.

“Just let me go. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

He shook his head, breath unsteady, “No I can’t. I can’t. I feel like if I let you go now, I’ll never see you again.”

You bit your cheek looking away, he was right. After tonight you had no intention of talking to him again.

His shoulders drooped at your silence, and he sat down on the steps of the building, harsh rain pounding down on him, matting his hair and drenching his extremely expensive suit, but he didn’t seem to care, “I hate fighting with you.”

You glanced down at his figure, watching him sit in the rain with his head in his hands, utterly defenseless.

“But I hate even more that it’s my fault, and that I couldn’t see what I was doing until I felt what you did, just for a second, and it hurt like hell.”

“I should have been there for you. I should have made time for you. I knew what I was doing wasn’t right but then I kept thinking it’s fine I’ll make it up to her next time, but next time never happened because I never showed up. I guess I was just so focused on making sure my teammates all liked me, and they had just stopped treating me like a kid, finally inviting me places - and I’m not using that as an excuse because I know it’s a shit one, it’s on me. Nobody forced me to do anything, I just wanted to feel included, and I put everyone else’s feelings above yours when yours was the one that was the most important to me.”

He finally lifted his head, and he was close enough that you could see the tears streaming down his face as he looked intently at you, almost like he was trying to memorize you, “If you want to walk away you can, you should - I’ll understand. I just wanted to apologize, really apologize, and own up to everything I did. I love you, and I promise you I won’t take anyone for granted the way I did with you.”

Your expression mirrored his own, and the tears were falling freely at his confession now that it was just the two of you. All the things you had wanted him to realize he had. All the things you wished he had said, he finally did.

But was it too late?

“Thank you, Pablo.”

He let out a short laugh through his tears, “No, thank you.”

You gave him a soft smile before you put distance between the two of you, letting the rain mask the sound of you leaving.

The lights from the venue grew dimmer as you continued walking, and you spared one last glance over your shoulder before it disappeared from view, seeing Gavi’s tiny figure rooted in place, watching you leave.

Your steps faltered.

How could you leave this relationship, this boy, when every single warning sign was going off in your brain, telling you to turn around and fight, to not give up? He had understood, he had understood exactly what you had felt, and had owned up to his mistakes, what else could he have done? He couldn’t go back and make it better, but he could change the way he treated you, but how would you acknowledge the change if you didn’t stick around?

It didn’t feel right walking away.

You thought you would feel content, feel like the pressure was lifting from your shoulders, but the dropping feeling in your stomach was multiplying, and your heart was constricting painfully at the thought of never seeing him, never laughing with him, never kissing him again, at the idea of falling in love with someone that wasn’t him.

You never ran faster in your life.

Let him be there. Please let him be there.

You didn’t know how you could explain yourself if you had to walk back into the event sopping wet, eyes puffy, and nose runny.

You couldn’t stop the wide smile that stretched across your face as he realized he was right where you left him.

You sat next to him and he didn’t notice until you spoke.

“Pablo.”

His head shot upon hearing your voice, and his face lifted for a second before falling again, “Di-Did you forget something?”

You nodded.

“Ok I can get it for you, what is it?” He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice clear.

You shifted closer to him, bodies pressed against each other, “I forgot that I love you. I love you and I want to work this out. I’m happy that you took responsibility and I believe you. I believe that you won’t do it again. But I should apologize too – I also wasn’t fair to you, and I did things that I shouldn’t have just to get back at you for making me feel so small.”

“I’m sorr-”

You cut him off, “Let’s stop apologizing.”

He nodded, eyes looking at you with nothing but love and admiration,

“Ok but we’ll have to work on our communication.” He said, and you hummed in agreement.

You touched your forehead with his, staring at each other with baited breaths until he finally closed the distance and kissed you. After a month of not seeing each other, you were finally kissing, pouring all your emotions, all your love, all your pain into the kiss, making a promise to be there for each other, and it felt like coming home.

alternate ending

1K notes · View notes

ghostieyanyan · 2 months

Text

♡~Yandere Valentine in Twisted Wonderland~♡

Yan!Twisted wonderland x mc (separated)

sorry this is a bit late but here's some of my short takes on valentines day in twisted wonderland!

Warnings: yandere, lack of proof reading (sorry), collars, pet-play, drugs, manipulation, hinting nsfw, beating someone up, dead animal, wedding, hidden camera, (if theres anything missing please do tell me)

~~~~~

Riddle

Riddle has been planning something for you before February even started, probably before new year too. He understand that he doesn't really have a nurturing touch, thanks to his mom, like the others do. But that wouldn't stop him from trying his best to make you feel special.

He'll ask you to have tea with him and if you happen to be distracted by "other matters." he doesn't mind using his unique spell and pull you around by the collar, like a dog.

"its very rude to not pay attention to the person that invited you out.."

~~~~~

Trey

As a vice house warden, he understands that you'll be busy. not just Crowley giving you either impossible or pointless work, or the fact that every boy from each and every dorm are falling to their feet just for you on valentines day, hoping you'll notice them.

Trey knows he's not like some flash students here but he knows what he's good at and doesn't need to try too hard like some other desperate students.

"Hey, perfect! i made you something, your favorite, with a little personal Trey touch~ you should probably eat it all now. Before Grim does."

~~~~~

Cater

Cater is pretty good at getting your attentions. Magicless other worlder, he just has to invite you to something outside of NRC and then watch as your eyes sparkles. Kind of reminds him of a little kid that just need extra attention which he's happy to do.

He'll show you cool different places, shops and cafes. All these cool places are picture perfect and he just loves dressing up with you. from an outside eye, it almost looks like you 2 are dating~

"Perfect! Look at this! we should totally take a picture here with our treats! Say "Happy Valentines Day~!"

~~~~~

Ace

You were very confused on why Ace has been grumpy all day. you tried everything to make him feel better but nothing. You bought him food, drinks, candy from Sam's. nothing.

After the day was over, you made it back to the dorm and Ace decided to follow you back? you tried to ask him what's wrong buy he swiftly grabbed you and rush to your room!

"All day has been a pain.. everyone gawking at you. All the meaningless gifts. All of it! Tonight, you're gonna make it up to me by letting me sleep with you!"

~~~~~

Deuce

Deuce wants to turn a new leaf and doesn't want to look back at his delinquent side every again. he's a new deuce now, a student that's just trying to get good grades and trying to be well respected. but old habits die hard.

Any and every time some one even looks in your way, he's sending daggers at them. and if they don't get the hide, he'll tell you that he needs to use the restroom and for you to stay where you are until he's back. he'll be quick...

"sorry it took me a while, there was.. a long line... wanna get lunch now?"

~~~~~

Leona

Leona, normally, doesn't care for this holiday. his brother always ask him if he's "stolen any hearts" this year? its always the same answer. but this year was different.

For once, he gotten some valentines gift. he remembered, not because he was eavesdropping, he just sleeping and you and your friends were talking about valentines gifts. how you had too many and how you might have to do several trips to bring them back to your dorm...

when you looked at your pile of valentines, instead of valentines, you saw sand.. and a plush lion with a card, flowers, and chocolate..

~~~~~

Ruggie

Ruggie cant really communicate with his grandma that much, cause they're not in a position to have phones but he does send letters now and then.

Each letter has there, 'how are you?'s to their 'are you taking care of yourself?'s. Now his letters to his grandma had this mysterious person, and how 'he's feels his heart flutter whenever they're near.' there also might be some 'I'm worried that I'm not good enough' he was very happy to get this letter back

"don't worry, sweetheart~ you should bring them over and ill give them a good talking to."

~~~~~

Jack

Jack tried everything to stay away from you all day. You're smell was just too intoxicating for him. Jack didn't want to risk spending time with you and his instinct...

he could tell, the other beastmen felt the same way. So all day, he kept his distance while also putting other beastmen in their place when they get a little too handy with you. luckily you didn't notice a thing.

But when you approached him, he couldn't just push you away. you mean too much to him. he doesn't want you to see him like.. a monster.

"Hi, prefect. how's you're day..?"

~~~~~

Azul

Azul tried to just charm you with his charisma alone, no shady actions, no "read the fine print." it seem like he was on his best behavior all day. it made you feel uncomfortable for a hot while.. but after a few hours you gotten use to it.

It was all in Azul's plan. instead of flatly telling you or tricking you to form a contact with him. he was gonna show you that you could rely on him, to trust him. so when you do sign a contact with him, you're guard will be so low, you wouldn't ever dare look at the fine print

"Prefect? Would you like to stop by Mosta lounge for lunch? there's a special i know you'll love. oh! its on the house."

~~~~~

Jade

before valentines day, Jade asked you to go out with him on a hilling trip. you'll find great mushrooms and if you find any 'shiny treasure' you could keep it as payment. you felt bored at the time and went with it. it was pretty fun. Jade taught you about wildlife and camping and you just enjoyed being out and about, anywhere than Grim's messes was a fresh air.

But on one of the day's out, Jade fell and hurt himself! it'll take a while for you guys to head back so you both decided to just wait until it heals, or when jade is "strong enough" to head back.

"aww.. prefect, you're too sweet for taking care of me~"

~~~~~

Floyd

Floyd has been a pin to your side all day. every time you were just talking to your friends or in line for lunch or whatever, Floyd comes out of nowhere, picks you up and runs away from your friends. it doesn't help that his long legs gives him a big advantage. the fact you cant struggle that much and the fact that you're friends cant keep up with Floyd...

When he finally gets alone time with you he just wants to play or just stare at you... its a mix really. sometimes he'll tell you he wants to show you a trick he learned from the basketball club. sometimes he just wants to walk around with you on his shoulders. but one things for sure, everyone is staying far away from both of you...

"Shrimpy! look at this! it kind of reminds me of you.. cause you're smol~"

~~~~~

Kalim

Lets admit it, when Kalim falls in love, he falls HARD. Like he would spoil his love rotten if he could. But he knows that you wouldn't allow him to do so, cause you're just too sweet.

Kalim loves to watch you work sometimes, you're so hard working even though you're in a situation that he couldn't imagine. Far from home with no contacted to your families, that's terrible. but he'll show you that he could help solve all your problems. But he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he'll start small.

"HEY PREFECT!!! Look what i got you! Golden bangles! they have our initials on them too! Come on, try them on! I'll help."

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil could easily used his unique spell on you but with it being Valentines day plus every student's having their eyes on you, he cant do it without getting caught. So, he'll have have to charm you with the next best thing, food.

He understand the for some people, food is their love language. He wasn't sure if that's you but he does know that you love his food. so a win is a win.

He'll make you not only your favorite foods but his own too. As a "get to know me" dish. Watching you enjoy his hard work, was like breathing fresh air. he loves your presence.

"here prefect, you can have more. i made it for you after all. hmm..? oh repayment? just repay me by spending the day with me.. just me."

~~~~~

Vil

Without warning, on a weekend, Vil grabs you and tells you get to dress. he's taking you out. You couldn't really say no to him so off you went.

He took you to store to store to store. Each store had either something he liked or something he didn't. did you have a say in anything? no.

It felt weird a bit but overtime that feeling went away and you were left with giving Vil a mini show fashion show... with just you and him...

~~~~~

Rook

Saying Rook loved you was an understatement. he loved your hair, your eyes, your walk, your demeaner, everything. On one of his strolls by your dorm, he noticed that you were taking care of a stray animal in your backyard.

You left food for it, you made a spot it could rest, you had a whole set up. even though you don't have a lot of money, you're golden heart shined through. He felt like cupid just struck him through the heart. He would like to do the same to you...

so on Valentines day, you found a box at your door step. inside the box... was your stray friend's lifeless body...

~~~~~

Epel

Epel's family loves to send him letters, he at least gets one every week. they're all mostly asking if he needs anything or family updates, etc. But now talks about you his letter. last time he visited his family, they kept asking about you.

Epel feeling the pressure of his family, told them that you and him were together and how you had "other things to take care of" and that's why you're not with him. they seem to calm down and jumped to another family topic. Now Epel has to convince you to "pretend" hopefully don't for long, that he was your boyfriend for his family.

"umm... hey prefect? i have a favor to ask you..?"

~~~~~

Idia

Idia normally doesn't care of any holidays, in general. he mainly does them for his brother or whenever a game was having a seasonal event. but he couldn't say he had someone special to "sit by the fireplace with him with hot chocolate" or "having a picnic out in spring" or even "being or having a valentine"... He didn't mind it...

which what he'll normally say, until he saw you with your pile of valentines day gifts! augh.. why do you have to be so popular?!

With a lot of pushing from ortho, he finally gave you your gift. it was a blue teddy that looked like hades. You didn't have to know about the hidden camera and mic in it. you could just thank him by sleeping with it~

~~~~~

Malleus

Malleus couldn't really celebrate valentine's day.. he's a prince of Briar Valley, after all. Having him give a valentines day gift can be interpreted as a marriage proposal. that will look every bad for Briar Valley. But the heart wants what it cant have~

His heart belonged to you and he would gladly throw away his position as a prince for you. or... he could just ask you to marry him?

He didn't want anything to come to harm you because of him, so in secret, he made you a wedding dress/suit. Until his graduation, he'll ask you to marry him and then he'll pick you up and off to Briar Valley, ruling together~

~~~~~

Lilia

Lilia loves a good trip. So many places to see, so many things to do. He wants to take you to see it all. why stay at NRC and just reading about other places when you could go out with him. he may be older but he could still protect you with all he has and he'll still be able to show you a fun time. Oh maybe he should show you how to fight?

He's had his eyes on you since you came to the school, you were so strange but you are never boring. something always happened with you around but you all ways find a way out of it. you're, well..... perfect.

"Prefect! guess who got 2 tickets to Shaftland! why just two? for me and you silly. come on, get your things. I'm gonna show you so much more of this twisted wonderland"

~~~~~

Silver

You understand that Silver is just a tried guy. so you do everything in your power to make sure he's okay and not gonna get hurt. After a while of this, you've noticed that Silver's holds on you, when ever you go and move him to a safer place, is more forceful than normal? You just told yourself that it was just sleepy silver but it doesn't seem like silver noticed and you didn't mind.

Whenever Silver was awake, you noticed that he's always just a call away. he wasn't over your shoulder or anything but you did see him more often than you usual did... were you thinking too much on this..?

"hey prefect? i got you some treats from Sam's... happy valentines day~"

~~~~~

Sebek

Sebek is loud. that is not an understatement. bet Sebek probably knows that too. he often uses it to tell other to "respected Malleus." but today he was oddly quiet? you tried to ask him if everything was okay, he said he's fine. Also whenever the other first years asked, he'll snap but not at his normal loud tone?

Without you realizing, Sebek was actually fighting an inner demon of his. Humans, like yourself, were so small and weak. yes, Silver is human too but he's a trained human, you weren't.

He sometimes wonders... how easy would it be to over-power yo-

~❦~❦~❦~

Che'nya

When Che'nya first appear in front of you with just his head, you, ace, and deuce all screamed. he loved it~ but your little squeak whenever you get scared, gets his blood pumping. like the rush you get when you catch you first mouse~

He started to visit more often then before, but not just to say hi to trey and riddle. but to spook their little perfect. a pick to the side here. a blowing into your ear there.

He just cant keep his hands off you! the best part, he doesn't have plans on even telling you it was him.

~~~~~

Neige

but to Vil's dismay, Neige kept bugging him about you! the mysterious manager~ Vil got so tired on it that he just pointed him to your dorm. Which Neige was happy to run to see you.

When he saw you place, he's heart broke a little. how could someone so lovely as you, live in a dump like this? He found you out in the back yard cleaning. it kind of reminded him of himself, run down building taking care of others. you were perfect for him!

"Heya! perfect, right? i was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?"

~~~~~

Rollo

Rollo will not caught walking into THAT school. but that wont stop him from appreciating you. Whether it takes a few days to a few years, Rollo swears to himself that he will save you from the hell hole your in.

but in the mean time he'll send you some flowers and a gift basket filled with Fleur City treats and fun toys that you liked when you last visit. if only you were in that school and you were in his, he'll show you so much and treat you much better than those.. "monsters."

"If though I'm not there, i hope you enjoy my gift. maybe next time you could visit again and I'll give you a personal tour."

~❦~❦~❦~

you can see this as platonic or romantic

~~~~~

Crowley

Crowley is a very strange bird man? says he cares for you then runs away with his feather tail in between his legs. Or when he just hands you work when he could easily do them himself. He's a very strange man so when he was insisting on you to stay by his side all day? it confused you.

like he'll have you in his office and when you tell him you needed to go. he'll "get sad" and say "awww.. i guess ill just power through all this paper work"

you thought he just wanted you to do the paper work (that you could do) so you did. you didn't figure out that maybe he just wanted you by his side so no one could see/ give you anything for valentines day.

~~~~~

Crewel

Crewel is a very classic man. so when he asked you to help him with some of his designs, you were quite confused. why not ask Vil or anyone from pomefiore? nonetheless, you helped as best as you can. giving your input on designs, telling him what you thought looked nice, getting materials for him, etc.

After you helped him make a set, he asked you to model them for him. he "wanted it on an actual person than a motionless mannequin."

You didnt know that he was doing this so you wouldnt be laying down with dogs with fleas today. Crewel thinks all the boys in this school are just crazy the fact its valentines day. so having you help him was just killing 2 bird with one stone.

~~~~~

Trein

Trein's cat, Lucius, seemed fine to you. but you couldn't say much when Trein asked you to help him look after his beloved pet. plus a cat that doesn't call you Hedgeman felt nice. a cat that was just a normal cat, that can understand you and talk but you don't understand it...

On Valentines Day, Trein tells you about his wife and what they do together on this day. It was really sweet to hear an old man talk about his love, plus his life too.

It felt nice and you enjoyed the time you spend together. you still couldnt tell if Lucius was actually sick or if he was just winning about food...

~~~~~

Vargas

You had no idea what came over Vargas. But when it was gym time and there was any partner exercises, it seems like he'll give the poor guys, that asked you to be partners, more hard exercises.

it could be in your head but after you're done, you see the poor student crying for squats or something? Will he be okay?

"oh, don't worry about him. he's been slacking off recently so its just catching up with him. HAHA!"

~~~~~

Sam

Sam is quite busy on Valentines day. a lot of students ask for valentines day cards, bears, to flowers. some even get the custom order. with those custom orders, he realized a lot of them were for you... he might not be able to do anything.. but his friends might help.

when same gives the students the valentines day gifts, he has a shadow follow them and when they're not looking. the shadow destroys the gift and runs away.

it kills two bird with one stone. they cant give the perfect gifts and Sam still gets the money. oohh he loves what he does~

~~~~~

383 notes · View notes

pshcomforts · 3 months

Text

➳ “slut!” | psh.

non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader (feat. taehyun from txt)

“in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman”

synopsis: your friend convinces you to go on a blind date with her boyfriend’s friend, sunghoon.

warnings/content: written in third pov. strangers to lovers. cursing. reader’s kind of awkward, and doesn’t like horror movies. sunghoon’s kind of flirty. nicknames used (gorgeous, loser). fluff!

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 6.0k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner)

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: “slut!” by taylor swift

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:35 ───────────|──────── -1:24

a loud groan left y/n’s mouth as she turned her back from her friend. “no ji-woo!”

“oh come on, y/n!! it’ll be fun!”

the girl faced to ji-woo with a frown displayed. “you know i haven’t gotten over taehyun yet..”

her friend rolled her eyes in a playful gesture before replying — “girl that’s why you go on the blind date!”

“it wouldn’t be such a bad idea..” dae murmured on the side.

y/n’s head whipped to him in an instant to send a stink eye. “it would be, actually. i’m not ready and having a double date with you and jake with someone i don’t even know is just so awkward.”

“it won’t be! jake just wants his friend to have some company for the night. please, y/n…” ji-woo pleaded.

y/n let out a disgusted sigh at her before turning her attention to an eagerly-waiting dae and min-su. “should i..?”

“YES!” they yelled together.

“UGH i hate you guys.. fine!”

the gang cheered in her defeat as they gathered around. “finally getting over taehyun!” dae exclaimed.

“i will end you..”

ji-woo gave a chuckle at her threat. “you’ll be fine y/n! he’s good looking, and he’s pretty much like you but in boy form!”

“is that supposed to be a compliment…”

“wait is it sunghoon?” min-su chimed in as she sent her text out to her boyfriend.

“oh yeah, heeseung knows him right?”

“mhm” — their friend responded, “i heard he’s kind of cold hearted from other dates he’s had though..”

“cold hearted..?” y/n repeated.

“i’m sure it’ll be fineee. from what i’ve heard, he’s a stand up guy.” ji-woo attempted to reassure.

“pft yeah right, he’s probably just into one night stands.” the short girl retorted

“isn’t that what you want though?” questioned dae who was giving light taps on his phone for jungwon.

y/n sighed. “well i’m not gonna expect anything out of that stupid double blind date i have with ji-woo.”

the group gave light giggles at her words. “you’re such a hater,” the dimpled girl snorted.

“i am! i’m only doing this for you.”

“you love me…”

“i’m leaving..”

“Y/N!”

“shut up, i’m leaving!” her footsteps hurried out of the room before she could hear their debating screams on coming back.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

“do i look fine?” y/n nervously mumbled while fidgeting her fingers.

ji-woo sighed out — “girl yes! you always do.”

“shut up, i’m hating you so much right now. i cant believe i actually said yes to this.”

“well it’s too late! they’re already coming here anyway.”

the shorter girl huffed out a sigh after applying the last few touches to her makeup. “why did i say yes…” she muttered under her breath.

minutes passed and soon came the time when the two boys arrived. jake walked in first to engulf his girlfriend into a tight hug, as sunghoon awkwardly tumbled behind him.

“hey love, missed you today.” he sighed out in the embrace of ji-woo — earning quiet giggles from her.

as the two couple were hugging, y/n and sunghoon stayed on the side with averting eyes. they’re introverts, of course they’re too scared to talk first.

the girl gave a swift, clear cough in her throat to catch her friend’s attention. “hm? oh! sorry, y/n this is sunghoon. sunghoon, this is y/n.” ji-woo spoke to the two tense figures.

“hi…” y/n softly uttered with a weird hand wave.

“hello,” he replied in a light manner.

the silence was deathly awkward already. jake sucked in a deep breath before patting his friend’s back. “ah i’m sorry y/n, my bro here is a little awkward, but if you get to know him more, you’ll find that he matches you.” he beamed a smile at his girlfriend’s friend, who was just nodding.

“that’s nice, i guess..” she said, whispering the last few words to herself.

“girl you’re awkward too, you better not leave it to just sunghoon to talk.” ji-woo suddenly disputed while intertwining her hands with her boyfriend’s.

y/n gave a quick side eye as her mouth gaped open in shock. “yeah yeah whatever, just focus on your stupid date.” she bitterly spat back. she heard sunghoon give a quiet chuckle at his side, amused in her little antics with her friend.

he flashed a half smile, letting his fangs highlight his facial features even more. perhaps this date wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the beginning to the double date was to a movie. and of course, it was a horror movie — ji-woo picked it on purpose.

“ugh i really fucking hate you right now. why would you do this to me?” y/n fumed, feeling her hands shake with each taunting thought of the jumpscares in mind.

being such gentlemen, sunghoon and jake (mostly jake) volunteered themselves to grab the snacks while the two girls sat in the theater — letting previews play in the background.

“girl you’ll be finee, i heard that it’s not even that scary!” ji-woo defended.

“i don’t care, ji-woo! i cant do horror movies, you know that! i hate you so much, i wish i never went on this stupid date.”

“oh my gosh.. you’ll be fine y/n! just… hold onto sunghoon when you get scared.” her brows raised suggestively, earning a harsh nudge from y/n.

“you’re so ugly. i’m gonna fucking walk out, that’s what i’m gonna do.”

“no you won’t!” ji-woo yelled back with a hand grab to her. “the ticket’s been purchased so.. you have no choice but to stay here.”

y/n scoffed and groaned soon after. “fine but i’m not gonna sit next to you.” she got up from the middle section, and sat in the corner where sunghoon was originally gonna sit.

ji-woo only scoffed at her petty behavior, opening her mouth to make a comeback but was stopped with the entrance of jake. the boy sat next to her with a confused look.

“i thought y/n was gonna-“

“she wants to sit there so she’ll sit there,” his girlfriend intervened.

y/n rolled her eyes before searching for her date who wasn’t behind jake. “hey where’s my date?”

her friend’s boyfriend chuckled. “you care about where my bro is at now huh?”

her face morphed into an eye squint with her lips tugged at the corner. “god you’re just like fucking ji-woo…”

the couple laughed together before jake spoke again — “it’ll be okay, y/n. your savior just decided to get more snacks for you.”

y/n’s face felt heated with embarrassment. all that fuss, and he was just being polite.

“whatever… i still wish dae and min-su were fucking here. they’d still leave me for their man but..,” her lips pouted as she missed them, feeling neglected from her friend who was giggling with her man. soon after, she pulled out her phone.

y/n <33:

miss you guys :(

for once, i miss you guys 🧍🏻‍♀️

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

What!

What about your date?

hee’s fav 🤍:

um that’s a first!

y/n <33:

ji-woo’s abandoned me and i want to go home already :(

y/n <33:

somebody pick me up please..

like PLEASE

PLEASE PICK ME UP

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

LMAO OMG Y/N

You’ll be fineee

Just talk to him!

hee’s fav 🤍:

girl you’ve only been there for like 45 minutes

y/n <33:

YEAH AND 45 MINUTES IS ENOUGH

Replied to ‘Just talk to him!’ — I DONT WANT TOOOOOOOOO

WHY CANT I JUST GO HOME

jake’s girl 🫂:

girl stop texting the group chat and talk to sunghoon!

almost immediately, y/n whipped her head to ji-woo who was already looking at her. she rolled her eyes before sending the middle finger to her, and then going back to the group chat.

jake’s girl 🫂:

RUDE!

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

huh

jake’s girl 🫂:

she flipped me off!!

hater 🙄

y/n <33:

I AM BC WHY TF AM I STILL HERE

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

HAHAHAHA THIS IS SO FUNNY

hee’s fav 🤍:

she wants to abandon sunghoon already

y/n <33:

PLEASE COME GET ME

MIN-SU AND DAE 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

jake’s girl 🫂:

NO!

let her talk to sunghoon first

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Um sorry y/n :(

hee’s fav 🤍:

i would come get you but hee’s being clingy right now

he won’t leave me alone

sorry twin, you’re on your own

y/n <33: :(

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

I’ll get you after the movies if you still want to come home

y/n <33:

i wanna go home now 🧍🏻‍♀️

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Sorry y/n, Jungwon just came too so

y/n <33:

yeah yeah whatever, have fun losers

the girl shut her phone after the text sent through to avoid any other messages. she gave a defeated sigh at the situation she was stuck in.

she didn’t hate the boy, but she was just simply too awkward to be going on dates like these.

soon enough, sunghoon came back with arms full of candy and popcorn.

just the sight of him approaching y/n was awkward — in a sweet, kind of dorky way.

“o-oh, you’re sitting in my seat?” he asked with his lips pressed together afterward.

she only nodded before looking down in an apologetic manner — “yeah, sorry.. i don’t want to sit next to my friend right now.”

he gave a chuckle as he sat down in the one next to her. “you must’ve really hated her for putting you on this date with me huh?”

“w..what!” her eye blew up in shock at his sudden approach. “no! i mean, i just can’t go on dates with how awkward i am..”

sunghoon widened his smile as he empathized with her words. “are you usually this awkward?”

y/n bit her lips before melting in with a head shake. as if she was already comfortable with him, she sent a soft smack to his arms. “shut up, i’m awkward but i’m not as awkward as you.” the girl shot back.

his mouth slightly gaped open with how sudden he had been hit. “that really hurt, you know?” he teased in a shit eating grin, hands rubbing at the “bruised” area.

she reflected back a smile as she shook her head. in all the dates she’s been on, she’s never met a man whose met her expectations in the reactions for when she’d hit them — until him.

“you’re stupid,” she said in an automatic response.

sunghoon smirked with an eyebrow raise. “yeah? well if i’m stupid, then you’re gorgeous.”

y/n forcibly took a pause in everything. ‘where did that random surge of confidence come from?’ she asked herself while awkwardly laughing. “gorgeous..? that’s a little upfront.”

he did a head tilt with her words, causing her heart to lightly thump at his handsome, confused face. “upfront? did you like it?” his thick brows raised again as he grinned ear to ear, enjoying her shy reactions.

she shook her head after burying it into the palm of her hands. “ew stop it..,” her voice muffled out as she nudged her head against his broad shoulders.

hoon beamed with a warm, fuzzy feeling at the tip of his ears. “your reactions to what i say are cute. i guess i’m gonna have fun trying to figure you out tonight.” he mumbled near her head.

y/n bolted up at his words. “what??”

“it’ll be fun,” he winked. oh, was he so awkward and yet so confident at such different times. is this how he does his one night stands?

she shook her head out of it. she doesn’t fall in love, not on the first date anyway. “uhm so, what kind of snacks did you get?”

sunghoon’s lips curled at her question. “well i heard from your friend that you enjoy chocolate, so i got you a little bit of everything from their selection.” one by one, he handed little chocolate snacks that had y/n mesmerized with sparkles in her eyes.

each time he gave her the candy, her hands would softly graze against his in a way that she didn’t realize, but he did. he’d take a gulp whenever he’d feel her nails faintly scratch his hands with how excited she was in snatching the treats.

“no way you got me all of this!” she exclaimed, feeling like a kid on christmas day.

he tugged a smile onto his lips as his heart was beating like crazy with the excitement she displayed. “i just wanted to make sure you’d be distracted from the scary movie.”

y/n peaked her head out of the chocolate, and to him with a puzzled look. “how’d you know i don’t like horror movies?”

“i could see how scared you were when we talked about it in the car,” sunghoon chuckled as he recalled back to watching her eyes nervously shift from ji-woo to jake, in hopes that someone read her mind (he did).

“sorry..,” she murmured. “i just can’t handle jumpscares.”

his lips pressed together in a line, conveying that he understood before showing his hand palm to her.

y/n looked at him with confused eyes, causing a hearty laugh to erupt from him. “you can hold my hand for comfort if you need to, dummy. whenever you’re scared, just squeeze it to know that you’re not alone.”

could she really do that with a stranger? “are.. you sure?” her eyes trailed up to meet his pretty face that spoke a reassuring look.

sunghoon nodded with a half smile. “yeah, i don’t mind.”

the girl’s heart lit up with butterflies. gladly, she let her hands intertwine with his and almost immediately, she felt a spark hit them.

y/n took a deep breath with how close they’ve already gotten. they barely talked and yet they were holding hands already.

as they were about to talk more, previews suddenly ended and the movie began.

when ji-woo could, she’d turn her head to check on the two — only to turn to jake and comment — “they’re already like a couple.” the male would glance at the said people and giggle alongside his girlfriend.

“i knew they’d match,” he mumbled with an approved head nod.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

throughout the film, y/n squeezed sunghoon’s hand continuously — a little more than he’d expect. when an upcoming jumpscare scene came, her hands would slightly grip in fear of what would show.

other times, the opposite side of their hands that weren’t holding would reach into the popcorn bucket situated between each other. again with the finger graze — their hands would accidentally bunk when dipped into the bucket, both too awkward to address it.

y/n gulped with the tension that was quietly arising between them. she’d occasionally stuff her face with popcorn to distract herself with how long her hands were holding his.

‘is my hand too sweaty?’ ‘is he tired of it yet?’ ‘when should i pull my hand away’ ‘he’s handsome..’ ‘damn he’s gorgeous’ ‘i could stare at his face all day’ ‘am i staring too much?’ — were all questions and thoughts that ran through her mind.

“are you that scared of the movie that you have to look at me instead?” sunghoon whispered with his head near hers.

her face grew heated with shame. “what?” she questioned aloud. her eyes trailed to his as he locked eye contact. a small smile plastered on him as he watched her shy away.

their faces were close to each other — tips of the nose barely touching with their hands still tightly intact.

“you’ve been staring a lot,” he chimed.

a glint of the movie scene (that was now deafened out by the both of them) reflected on his shiny eyes as they gazed at each other. the lighting was dark but she could still trace out all the special features highlighted on him — his thick brows, plump lips, softened eyes, and messy hair — her heart was fluttering in all sorts of ways.

“sorry.. that’s a little embarrassing,” y/n admitted with her lips firmly pressed. “i just-“

her words were interrupted by the sudden boom from the movie. a jumpscare appeared in a matter of seconds, causing the girl to jolt and tighten her hand around hoon’s.

quickly, she shut her eyes and turned her head away from the bright screen. she felt her heart beating out of her chest with the stimulated pace it was at.

in return, sunghoon rubbed his thumb in a reassuring way as he chuckled to himself. “you okay?” he queried while giving a light squeeze to her.

her breath became heavy as an uneasy feeling crept in. “yeah.. is it over?”

“yeah, the scene’s over.”

y/n peeked her eyes open to look up at a smitten boy who was still keeping his strong gaze on her. her cheeks flushed with a warming color once more as she averted his gaze to look at the bright screen.

immediately, her vision took in the scene displayed out in front of her — a woman being possessed. she yelped out in fear and gripped his hand.

“sunghoon!” y/n harshly whispered with a head whipped to him.

he flashed a smile, fangs and dimples full out on display as his heart raced. “sorry sorry, are you okay?” the boy softly murmured back.

“no, what made you think that was okay?” she whispered-yelled, furiously shaking her head in disappointment.

sunghoon couldn’t help but grin ear to ear again. biting his lips to calm himself down from looking like he had hangers in his mouth, he turned his head away from her — coming into eye contact with his friend, jake. he raised his brows in a way that spoke — ‘perfect for you, huh?’

he shook his head before turning to y/n, who was still scared out of her wits. “i didn’t know, i swear. the movie’s already over anyway.” his mutter was sweet and soft in her ears — causing a fluttering feel to hit at the pit of her stomach.

attempting to look unfazed, she groaned out a disgusted sigh before detangling her fingers that were still tightly attached to him. the movie was indeed over so no hand holding was needed anymore.

sunghoon quietly sighed out at the empty feel against his hands. “you okay?” he asked with worried eyes.

y/n nodded her head, hands rubbing her heart area to calm it down. “yeah no, i’m fine, but if i have nightmares, i’m blaming you.”

he amusingly chuckled before sending a pat to her hair. “alright that’s fair.“

“okay lovebirds, you guys ready?” ji-woo asked to the two.

y/n looked at her with disgust written on her face. she barely knew the guy after all.

sunghoon looked at her for confirmation, only to earn a simple nod and eyebrow raise.

the group left the movie theater together, and then carried onto their plan of having dinner together.

in the seating arrangement, ji-woo and y/n sat near each other, facing their dates.

“oh shoot, i forgot something in the car!” y/n’s friend exclaimed with a sigh.

“what is it?” responded jake.

“my phone, i can’t believe i forgot it!”

a chuckle slipped out of his mouth as his hand gently placed over hers. “don’t worry love, let’s go get it.”

as she got up, y/n was quick to grasp her wrist. “uhm jake, why don’t i just go with her instead?” her eyes met her friend’s, letting it shift to sunghoon to give her the hint to not be left alone with him.

jake smiled as he watched his girlfriend’s friend give a poorly made signal. “it’s fine, we’ll be quick y/n. make sure she’s okay, bro.” he swatted a hand to hoon who was awkwardly nodding.

the couple vanished within seconds, allowing the two most awkward people in the world to be left alone.

y/n quickly cleared her throat before snatching out her phone out of habit.

y/n <33:

I CANT BELIEVE JI-WOO JUST LEFT ME ALONE WITH HIM

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

WHAT!!

hee’s fav 🤍:

what a traitor

y/n <33:

HELP ME

I THINK THIS IS THE TIME TO COME GET ME NOW DAE

hee’s fav 🤍:

is it that bad that you can’t handle being alone with him?

y/n <33:

okay no.. but it’s just awkward 🧍🏻‍♀️

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Girll you’ll be fineee

jake’s girl 🫂:

Yeah y/n, talk to him. Don’t just leave my bro alone like that

y/n <33:

????

is that fucking jake?

jake’s girl 🫂:

No..

y/n <33:

jake..

jake’s girl 🫂:

Okay it’s me, but give Sunghoon a chance

And get off of the phone

y/n subtly rolled her eyes before shutting the phone off. turning her head up, she was met with the same boy who looked just as smitten as earlier.

there was something about his eyes that she could get lost in.

“so.. sunghoon, do you go on dates a lot?”

she sighed to herself, wanting to twist her head in how stupid she sounded.

he softly chuckled at her reaction afterward, watching how she face palmed herself. “i don’t go on a lot, but i enjoy it occasionally.”

‘is he really a one night stand type of guy?’ y/n thought as she nodded.

“and you?”

“well i was actually in a committed relationship with someone but we broke up.. five months ago.” she took a noticeably large gulp of her water after to calm her nerves.

sunghoon’s ears perked up at her words. “you guys broke up?”

“well we’re on this date, aren’t we?”

the two laughed together at how silly and stupid this kind of introduction was.

he was about to ask more, but was stopped by the re-entry of jake and ji-woo. “sorry guys, the car was further than we thought,” the girl huffed.

“no worries, let’s just order.” y/n responded, eyes distracted with how handsome sunghoon looked. her gaze lingered through every facial feature of his, subtly admiring as she forcibly tore her attention away from him after.

hoping no one saw, she changed the subject into what possible dishes she’d order. he noticed though. of course he did. her attempt to look elsewhere was a fail with how she could feel his stare burning holes into her.

the boy laughed quietly to himself before looking at the menu as well.

meanwhile, outside of their world, jake and ji-woo shared the same glance that said — ‘as if it wasn’t already obvious.’

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when dinner finished, the two in a relationship decisively ditched sunghoon and y/n together.

the short girl groaned out an annoyed sigh. to be quite frank, she just wanted the night to end.

she scrolled through her phone to find a text from ji-woo — ‘forgive me queen!!’ — followed by a few other confused messages from min-su and dae.

a click to her device was made and she put it away to turn to sunghoon. “i’m really sorry that they ditched us here…”

he smiled as if he understood. “don’t worry, i don’t mind sitting next to a pretty girl.”

her cheeks quickly flushed, causing her to impulsively slap his arm for a response. “oh shit! sorry, i do that a lot.” she gave a sheepish smile as she rubbed his muscular arm.

he shined his teeth with a wide grin. “i can tell.. guess i should get used to that huh?” he murmured.

“what??”

“nothing, just keep rubbing my arm like that.” sunghoon raised his thick brows, earning a gasp from y/n.

“the way you get randomly confident is so crazy to me.”

“guess you should get used to that.” he flirted, tongue slipping between his teeth. “wanna get a drink?”

“only if you’re buying,” she said, lips pressed into a sweet smile.

hoon chuckled out at her words — “of course i will, gorgeous.”

immediate butterflies hit her stomach with the newly given name from him. “you’re calling me gorgeous for sure, now?” the girl asked after ordering her alcoholic drink.

“yeah, you don’t like it?” he handed it to her once it was done and took small sips of his own.

she rolled her eyes before sending a light grin. “it’s not bad. can i give you one?”

“be my guest, gorgeous.”

her heart pulsed at the name again, feeling her insides jump as she said, “mm.. how about loser?”

instantly, sunghoon almost spat out his drink. “loser??” he closed his eyes to laugh at her suggestion. “you think i’m a loser?”

“i mean, you could be my loser.” she carelessly responded.

one of his brows raised in amusement. “look who’s confident now.”

“shut up!” she yelled, chuckling alongside the smiley boy.

changing the topic, y/n went into a few other different subjects. and now with a little more alcohol driven in her system, her confidence rose as she suddenly asked, “okay this is random but, how do you think this one night stand thing is going so far?”

sunghoon took a pause — “one night stand? you think this is a one night stand?”

she hiccuped a giggle as she shook her head. “well i mean, don’t you only do one night stands?”

he took her question in a light manner, scratching the back of his neck while laughing it out. “if you think this is a one night stand, then you’re wrong dummy. i don’t do that, and whatever you heard, it’s wrong. i’m not that kind of a person.” his finger playfully nudged her head as he rolled his eyes.

“wha- i’m sorry! i just heard that you tend to be a little mean..,” y/n defended with a scoff.

he beamed a half smile as he let a sigh leave his mouth. “you still think i’m mean after letting you hold my hand?”

she mirrored his expression before softly hitting his arm again. “okay you didn’t let me finish. i thought you were at first! but after that whole movie theater situation, i thought you were pretty sweet.”

his heart subtly lit with fireworks as he bit his lips down to hide his smile. “i am pretty sweet, aren’t i?” he cockily marveled.

“ew sunghoon..”

the male cackled out a laugh at her reaction. “come on, it was funny.”

y/n rolled her eyes — “just a little bit.. but don’t get too carried away with it.”

a few more push and pull on their spat was made before hoon decided to end it with a trip to the restroom.

as she was left alone, her hands pulled out her phone once again to check her flooded group chat.

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Y/N ARE YOU OKAY

Why haven’t you been answering!

Do you still need to be picked up?

jake’s girl 🫂:

she’s busy with sunghoon!!

hee’s fav 🤍:

um ew

my hee said he’s proud of him

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

UH WHAT!

y/n <33:

i’m literally fine 😭😭 i’m just at a bar with him

hee’s fav 🤍:

a bar??

jake’s girl 🫂:

GASPPP

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

GIRL WHAT

y/n giggled at her screen, about to type out another message before being interrupted.

“y/n?”

the familiar voice immediately clicked in her head. she knew that voice from anywhere..

“taehyun??” she felt her heart in her throat with how sudden he appeared back in her life. “what are you doing here?”

a chuckle erupted from his throat as he nervously scratched his neck. “i should be the one asking you that. are you drinking alone?”

“oh no i-“

“nevermind that, you look cold.” he interrupted, taking his leather jacket off to wrap around her.

“it’s really fine, taehyun, you don’t have to.” a sense of an uneasy feeling hit her stomach as she was tensely awkward.

his hands held onto the jacket, attempting to let it cover her shoulders — only for it to be pushed away with another coat from behind.

y/n, of all, was puzzled but quickly grasped that it was sunghoon. he arrived from behind, noticing the subtle body language change in her from her back.

now the jacket he wore earlier had securely been on her shoulders with a hand placed at her waist.

he pulled her in close to him with his eyes narrowing at her ex. “she has mine. she’s not cold.” the girl trailed her eyes from his chest to his masculine face. she took a gulp, careful to not get too caught up with how much she was admiring him. him, and his chiseled chest, strong jawline, sharp nose, dashing eyes, thick brows, and fluffy hair. god, she could stare at him forever.

meanwhile, taehyun felt lost, mind not able to comprehend how sudden a random guy had swooped in near his old lover. “oh i’m sorry, are you guys…”

sunghoon darkly chuckled. “yeah,” he paused with a jaw clench while tightening his hold around her waist, “we’re together.” the surge of possession drawing out of him was something she didn’t expect to see, but she liked it.

the older male understandingly nodded his head before apologizing and taking his leave from the scene.

“thanks.. i didn’t really feel like talking to him.” y/n confessed with her lips pushed in a line.

he smiled as he took his seat, not before sweeping the taehyun air off and taking a sip of his beverage. “i could tell. did i do good as your pretend boyfriend?”

she cackled a laugh, nodding in agreement as she joked, “yeah keep that up and you’ll be my real boyfriend.”

“yeah? i have potential?” his face dipped in closer to hers, breath heavy with a gulp at how close they were.

her lips curled into a smile before leaning in close to let the tips of their noses touch. “you do, loser.” she flirtatiously nudged his head away, laughing at how charmed he was.

they continued through other talks, finding interests in similar things and connecting on a different level. going on a date with someone like him was different than what y/n was used to. she felt like she could actually converse with him after pushing through the awkward surface.

little things about each other were getting to be known — birthdays, interests, goals, connections, mbti’s. they were enjoying each other’s company with just how well they could communicate.

a spark was undeniably ignited between the two loud introverts, and soon enough, the question had been asked —

“wanna get out of here?”

“been waiting for you to ask that.” y/n replied with a smile.

the two soon found transportation back to her shared apartment with her friends.

“so you live here with ji-woo?” he asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“yeah, and two others. they’re dating your friends too, heeseung and jungwon.”

sunghoon’s eyes blew up in shock. “what?? really? so how come i never knew you before?”

she grinned ear to ear at his question. “well i was dating taehyun for a while so i was pretty much off the market at the time.”

“too bad, would’ve been perfect for past me.” her head shot up to the boy who was having a faint color of pink tainted on his cheeks.

“what about being perfect for present you?”

y/n stopped in her tracks, allowing sunghoon to face her. “i could tell you already are.” almost immediately, her cheeks grew hot and heavy.

he chuckled, bitting his lips with how she reacted. “so i guess i figured you out tonight.”

her head tilted in confusion, earning another sweet laugh to be heard from him. “i said i’d have fun figuring you out tonight, and i did.”

“you figured me out through one night?”

hoon’s mouth ran through the little details he didn’t dare to miss throughout the night, causing y/n to have her jaw on the floor.

“wow.. you really did figure me out. i mean there’s more to it than that but-“

“but i did good huh?” his nose gave a soft scrunch as he smiled in satisfaction. “i should get a prize for that.”

she giggled. “you want a prize?”

he nodded his head. “only if you’re giving them out.”

the girl rolled her eyes at her date. “fine, what do you want?”

“another date.”

she couldn’t help the beam that took over on her face, closing her eyes shut as she nodded her head. “okay, another date with you it is.”

sunghoon reached one of his hands out — “shake on it.”

“shake on it?” she guffawed.

“yeah, shake on it.” the boy repeated.

she sighed in defeat, giving in because of how handsome his soft pout was. her hands firmly shook his and prepared to let go, only to be in a tight hold again.

before she knew it, his lips smashed against hers. sunghoon smiled through the kiss, enjoying her flustered state with how sudden everything was. his other cupped her cheek, pulling her in closer as she melted into it.

soon enough, he pulled away with his heavy breath against her cheek. the male planted soft and quiet kisses on her lips, indicating her with his longing to connect their lips again.

“that was a good shake huh?” hoon whispered.

she scoffed out a laugh and pushed him away. “shut up.”

a wide grin plastered onto his face as he laughed with a hand on his stomach. “so, another date?”

“we already confirmed that.” said y/n, giving a roll to her eyes once more before feeling his warm hand bring her back.

“can’t wait,” sunghoon murmured, leaning in to leave a comforting peck on her cheek.

“get home safely.” she said. the girl picked out soft strands from his messy and yet gorgeous hair, letting a few still take its fall as her eyes focused on him.

hoon’s cheeks and ears flushed with a tinge of pink, feeling his heart thump out of his chest while nodding — “i will, get home safe too, gorgeous.”

y/n smiled as if on default, softly smacking his arms as she replied, “can’t wait for our next date.”

sunghoon gave a quick ruffle to her hair before taking off. he laughed at her frustrated state when he did it, loving how his teasings caused an adorable reaction like that.

the two definitely had a lot more to learn about each other, but being as comfortable as they were on a first date was a good sign.

after a little more playful bickerings, y/n went inside her apartment complex to converse with her friends in how well the date went. ji-woo, especially, mentioning how she knew they’d match while min-su and dae played out their jokes and gasps in a light manner.

“what did i say!” yelled the dimpled girl.

“still doesn’t justify you leaving me completely alone!” y/n yelled back.

“yeah why did you do that, ji-woo?” dae chimed in.

“she needed to talk to him, not me throughout the date!” she defended.

“wow see that, she didn’t even want to talk to you y/n.” min-su instigated.

as for sunghoon, the boy went to his apartment he shared with jake. he spent the entire night wondering and thinking about the girl he just talked to. eventually, asking his best buddy all sorts of questions about y/n so he could ask his girlfriend. the poor boy was exhausted from his own date, and yet hoon was pestering him about all the tiny details that could be heard from ji-woo.

“please jake!” the taller male pleaded.

jake groaned out an annoyed sigh. “dude leave me alone! ask me questions tomorrow!”

“but i want to talk about her now!”

“go bother heeseung or jungwon then, their partners are dating her friends too you know?” he mumbled with an arm draped over his eyes.

“but you’re here now!” sunghoon exclaimed.

“bro just text her, and stop asking me!”

a door slam was made in front of hoon, giving him no choice but to text the girl who’d now be someone he’d think about on the daily basis.

this was just the start to their relationship.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

415 notes · View notes

daechwitatamic · 4 months

Text

The Price || MYG

banner by @/itaeewon

The Price

Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending WC: 8k

Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.

Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending

A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!

Mirror, mirror - look and see. Who might take this throne from me? Mirror, mirror - who's the threat? Show me which boy's blood to let.

There are pros and cons to living outside the village. The pros are that you’re mostly left alone - you live by your own laws, most of the time. It’s better this way; you come and go as you please, you don’t worry about latest fashions or gossip, you aren’t under the thumb of any societal niceties or norms. You concern yourself more with what the forest tells you. Bad weather, humans who don’t belong, sickness on the horizon - the forest knows it all, and you know how to listen.

You knew about the plague - in a vague, something isn’t right here kind of way - days before the first villager fell sick. You didn’t see anything bigger than a possum for three days - you knew something was in the air. It was the baker first, then his wife. Now it’s made its way into the castle, the guards and servants falling like flies.

Another pro - you won’t pick up illness from the baker if you make your own bread in your tiny cabin in the woods.

The main con - the only con, really - is that when you make your weekly trek to the castle to present the King and Queen with your scores (deer, mostly, but usually a few fowl too) it takes so damn long to get there.

It would be faster on foot, much faster, but you have to load your kills onto a cart and take the dirt road, which winds and twists and takes its time. Today your cart is loaded: venison, fowl, a few rabbits, even a fox. That had been a good score. The Queen likes furs - she’ll pay you well for it.

But the trip into town once a week is a fair price for your freedom, you think.

A few vendors through the heart of town wave hello as you pass. You lift your hand in response but don’t stop. You’ll shop after, when your cart is empty and your purse is full. For now, you stay on the main road until it changes over from tamped-down dirt to cobblestone to, eventually, flat stone that leads to the bridge over the castle’s moat.

The usual guard, the one who knows your face and always waves you through, isn’t there. You wonder if the plague reached him, if he’ll recover or if they’ll send his body to the sea like all the others.

You show identification, the card nearly illegible due to how many times it’s been folded and stuffed into your shoe for safekeeping, and this new guard waves you on.

As usual, you stop in the courtyard just inside the first set of walls. You hop down and start undoing the straps of the fabric you have over the top of the cart. Two guards join you, and they begin moving your scores down from the cart. Each is weighed and given a quick once-over as a scribe stands to the side recording it all.

“Make sure you mention how nice that hide is,” you tell him, pointing at the fox. “I got that one special, for her.”

The scribe rolls his eyes a little, but you see him peer at the fox and scribble something on his little parchment. When they’re done, your cart empty, the scribe rolls his paper up and leads you up the steps towards the main doors to the castle. You flip one of the guards a silver coin and follow the scribe. As you head up the steps, you hear the sound of your horse’s feet moving across the stone, the cart creaking and groaning behind him, as the guard you paid takes him to be cared for.

Inside, you follow the thick, red carpet into the throne room. You’re surprised to see only the Queen present, but you school your face and drop into a bow anyway, your forehead brushing the soft carpeting.

When you rise, you see the scribe has handed her the parchment, and she reads over the report of your goods. You wait, knowing better than to speak until she has.

“A good week,” she observes.

“Yes, your Grace,” you say, eyes on the carpet. “I was pleased as well.”

“Are you well?” she asks as she signals for her Chief of Coin, who scurries close to the throne and lowers his head to hear her whispers.

“Quite well,” you say automatically, though you’re not sure what exactly she’s asking. Does she mean your health? Your home?

The Chief of Coin makes his way to you and you pull your practically-empty purse from your back pocket.

“You have need of nothing?” she asks.

This would be your opportunity to ask after anything major - repairs on your home, medicine, anything you couldn’t get during your walk back through town.

“No, your Grace,” you say. “I had need of a new blade, but the local smith took my request.”

The local smith and your new blade are one of your stops on your way home.

“I’ve heard from the citadel,” she tells you, and you pull your eyes away from the Chief of Coin to look at her. “They say your brother is doing well. He’s applying himself to his studies.”

When you’d lost your parents, you’d begged to keep your brother yourself, desperate to keep him away from the citadel’s orphanage. You were of age, could handle yourself. You could handle him, too, you’d argued.

The King had considered this. Your family was well-known in the village, and your father had hunted for the crown for many years. Your brother was only about five years out from finishing his schooling.

You were investments, you and your brother.

In the end, the deal had been struck - the crown would see to the rest of his education under the condition that when he finished he’d work for the crown, pay back his debt, begin to build his own name.

And, in the meantime, you’d take over the hunting. You could keep your family’s little cabin out in the woods, away from town. Your brother wouldn’t be apprenticed off to a stranger.

It was an easy deal to agree to.

“We’re grateful for the opportunity,” you say to the Queen. “If the report said anything less, I’d travel there to knock sense into him, myself. He’s at that age. You know.”

You try to bite back a cringe. The Queen might not know. She’d never been able to bear a child for the King.

She smiles at this, thinly. “Very well,” she says, and you take back your now-heavy purse from the Chief of Coin. “Then I shall see you next week. I wish you continued health in the upcoming days.”

You nod your head. “I wish the crown health and longevity,” you say. Head bowed, you miss the way her eyes tighten.

–

You pick up the goods you need - eggs, flour, and the like - on your way through town. You eye the tavern, tempted to stop for a pint. Alas, you are embarrassingly excited to get your new blade, so instead you carry on down the road towards the smithy.

After tying up your horse - though he’s a lazy thing and probably wouldn’t wonder anyway, not with the cart hitched up - you head inside, following the sounds of a hammer striking metal.

You wait until there’s a break in the noise and then shout a hey back towards the open door to let the team know they have a customer.

There’s the sound of a heavy instrument being dropped to the ground, and you catch yourself smoothing your hair back. Stop it, you scold yourself, scowling.

That’s the face that greets the youngest of the smithing team, Min Yoongi, as he steps into the shop, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.

“Ah,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Is it Thursday already?”

“Is my blade ready?” you ask, ignoring both his self-satisfied grin and his question. “Park Jihoon said I could get it today.”

At his boss’s name, Yoongi’s smirk fades until he’s all business again. He turns to the wall, where special orders are tacked. He searches until he finds yours.

“It’s ready,” he grunts, reading the slip of parchment. “Wait here.”

He disappears into the back again, returning with a hefty-looking blade, sheathed in a leather case.

He places it on the counter between you, pulls the blade from its case and turns it over so you can see each side.

You frown. “I didn’t order engraving on the case,” you say, jutting your chin towards the delicate design at the top. It curls in and around itself, all the way around. “I’d better not have to pay extra for that.”

“Ah, but he worked so hard on it!” Park Jihoon says cheerfully, appearing out of the back and clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. You keep your eyes on the knife; Yoongi looks steadfastly at the wall with the orders, a pink flush working up his neck.

“It’s not extra,” he mutters.

“I’m heading to Bridgeport,” the senior blacksmith tells Yoongi. “I’ll be back before sundown. You’ll be okay here?”

“Of course I will,” Yoongi says, disgruntled. Jihoon nods goodbye at you both and moves through the door, leaving you in silence.

“What’s the price?” you ask, placing your purse on the counter and digging for coins. He turns the paper over so you can see what his boss wrote, and you slide him the payment. You work on attaching the blade’s sheath to your belt, ignoring how Yoongi watches you through heavy-hooded eyes.

You know that look. You are ignoring that look.

“Lovely,” you say, once you’re situated and ready to go. You swipe up your purse and toss it once, catching it deftly. “Have fun pounding on metal, or whatever.”

His grin is razor-sharp. “I’d be happy to pound something else, if you want.”

The laugh rips out of you, unbidden and unwanted. “Disgusting,” you tell him, but the laughter takes the bite out of the words. “My God, you ought to throw yourself down the well for that.”

He lifts a brow, his smile turning less dangerous and more open.

You laugh again, shaking your head. “None of that today, thanks. I’ll be off.”

“Come on,” he cajoles, coming around the counter to follow you to the door. “You know you want some. It’ll be such a long ride back here when you change your mind later.”

“Keep dreaming, blacksmith,” you tell him, lips pursing in amusement.

He lays a hand over his heart like he’s wounded. “Blacksmith? You remembered my name just fine last week when you were -.”

“Well, I seem to have forgotten it again!” you blurt before he can finish the thought, pulling the door open. Over your shoulder you call, “Good day!”

His laughter rings out onto the street, following you home.

Regretfully, you have to admit that out of everyone who lives in this village, built out from the castle’s western gate, you know the most about Min Yoongi.

You knew him in passing, of course - before. When you’d ride through this same village on this same cart, your little brother squeezed between you and your father. When you’d stand silently, peeking around your father’s side, while he took payment from the King for his scores. When you’d greet the peddlers and the shop-keepers politely before climbing back on the cart and riding all the way back home.

Yoongi was just an apprentice then. You hadn’t paid him any mind. He was quiet, a bit scruffy, stayed close to Park Jihoon. He was no more interesting to you than the apprentice for the bakery, the tannery, the copywrite. Wasn’t even the best looking out of the bunch, honestly.

He was just there, unassuming. He was there when you’d pass through town on the cart full of your father’s scores, there whenever your family had business with the blacksmith, there when the holidays rolled through and your mother dragged you into town in a dress you hated and shoes that pinched.

There the day your parents’ bodies, along with six others, were loaded onto a barge headed for the sea. There the day your brother joined four more young people from the village as they climbed into a deep blue carriage headed for the citadel.

Yoongi’s dark eyes, cool and undemanding, had been on you as you stood fully alone for the first time in your life.

You hadn’t paid him any attention then, either. You couldn’t pay mind to anything then except dragging yourself through dark day after dark day until, finally, the clouds seemed to part and your new life seemed bearable. And bearable turned into decent. And decent turned into enjoyable.

The seasons turned. The hurts faded.

And you began to pay mind to Min Yoongi.

You began to learn things about him, then - after.

In your time around town, you learned first that he was good at his work - his blades were made well, easily as well as his master’s blades. You learned that he scowled and grunted but hardly ever meant it. You learned that he had a good reputation around the village - was known for helping his neighbors without being asked, known for being polite and keeping to himself. You learned that he had no family either, that the master blacksmith who’d taken him as an apprentice had more or less raised him, too.

Alone with him, you learned that his smile could be razor sharp, one side lifting and eyes glinting in a way that made your pulse sing. You learned that when he meant it, his eyes squeezed shut and his gums showed. His shoulders shook when he laughed. He made the funniest faces when someone said anything he didn’t agree with or didn’t understand. He’d grown strong, his craft shaping his arms and roughening his hands.

You learned that he took whiskey neat at the tavern when he was done working for the day. You learned that he had a smart mouth behind his quiet demeanor, and opinions about everything. You learned what he was willing and able to do with that mouth when he pressed you against the rough wood of the tavern’s side alley, and then later, back in his rooms behind the smithy.

You learned that he fucked rough but loved soft.

And that was where it had to stop.

Because it couldn’t be - but this you knew the whole time.

When he pressed his mouth to yours sweetly, stretching to reach you, brushed one lovely finger down your cheek and whispered, I want you, you knew this: it couldn’t be.

There was no life for you in the village. There was no life for you as someone’s wife. There was no future for you as someone’s homemaker.

Even if he could somehow give you partnership and love without taking away the wildness of your lifestyle - there was no love ready to bloom and grow behind your iron ribs. You had nothing you could give him back. You knew only survival. Only killing and coin. Only the forest and its secrets.

“You can’t have me,” you’d whispered back. “I am not to be had.”

You were surprised when he didn’t fight it. He hadn’t pushed back. He hadn’t held it against you, hadn’t been wounded. He’d accepted exactly what you were willing to give him and asked for nothing more.

You know this, above all else: he’s sweet, and conscientious, and good. Yoongi is good.

You - forest-dweller, hunter, orphan, unmannered, uneducated - don’t deserve him. You aren’t enough for how good he is.

The royal physician’s face says it all.

The Queen purses her lips, her eyes on her husband’s prone form. He meets her gaze weakly, too far gone to mask any of it.

“How long?” she asks, the words clipped.

The physician spreads his hands before him. “Impossible to say, your Majesty. Days, maybe. Weeks, if he can be strong.”

She scoffs. “Days it shall be, then.” She dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

No one is surprised, she thinks. The plague would breach their walls eventually. Only the strong survive - of course it would be her husband who would succumb first, and quickly. He’d never been strong, not like her.

After all, she was the one who tried all these years. She looked and acted the part of a partner. She was faithful. She focused on the crown, on the realm.

Not like him.

He coughs as he shifts on the bed, and she looks at him again. Weak, she thinks again. She can only feel disgust for him, for everything he never gave her.

“You’ll finally get what you always wanted,” he croaks.

She turns to look out the window. The day is grey, dreary.

“It seems I shall,” she agrees. Then she turns and walks closer to her husband’s sickbed - deathbed, perhaps. She drops delicately into the chair at his side and takes his clammy hand in hers.

It might look as if she doted on him. It might look as if she mourned.

“What became of him?” she asks, voice even and unbending. “The boy.”

Her husband’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest is accompanied by pained coughing.

“You truly are something, my Queen,” he says, shaking his head. “The boy doesn’t even know.”

He will say nothing else.

The Queen is delivered two things at once, not a week later.

The first, a gilded mirror, promised to possess magical ability.

The second, the expected news of her husband’s passing.

The realm begins its period of mourning, flags lowering, shutters closing. The Queen begins her incantations, alone in the southernmost tower of the keep.

The frame is made of ornately twisted gold, so heavy it takes two of her men to hang it for her. When they pull the dust cover off, she steps back to appraise it.

“Pretty,” she observes, watching her own reflection in the glass - unmagical, unextraordinary.

The swirling, green-hued mist doesn’t appear before her reflection until her men are dismissed, the door closing and leaving her alone.

Your Majesty, the mirror intones, the voice coming from the depth of the mist. Your wish is my command.

The Queen pauses, considering. The throne, the throne - hers, finally, only hers.

Unless.

The King’s last words to her ring through her head - the boy doesn’t even know.

She raises her chin and chants,

“Mirror, mirror, look and see…

Who could take this throne from me?

Mirror, mirror, who’s the threat?

Show me which boy’s blood to let.”

The mist, green and growing, takes over the glass. The Queen’s fists clench tightly at her sides.

The mist clears. The Queen lets out a laugh, short and bitter.

The blacksmith’s boy smiles shyly in the glass, one hand coming up as if to hide his face.

The blacksmith’s boy. The king’s bastard. Her only threat, the only other claim to her throne.

Your next trip into town isn’t with a cart full of venison and fowl. Instead it rings more true to the holidays of old, with your mother in charge. You wear black and a scowl, just as you did then.

The funeral services for the King threaten to last the full day, maybe into the night. You wish you could abstain, but if ever there was an event you were obligated to attend - this would be it.

You’re not sure what the King’s death means for you - for your brother. Will the Queen uphold the bargain? Does she still want your brother’s counsel, someday, when he’s of age? Without the King’s affection for your father, will she continue to allow you to live freely as part of the arrangement?

You sit alone in the church pew; rather, you’re surrounded on either side by strangers. You know Yoongi’s in the crowd somewhere - you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You don’t turn to look for him. What good would it do?

It’s well after dark when the town begins to file out into the night. Your stomach growls, and you ponder if you should stop for a hot meal at the tavern before making the trek back through the woods or if you can hold out until you’re safely back at home.

You’re stopped on your way out the door by a guard reaching across you, blocking your path.

“Her Majesty requests your audience,” he says gruffly, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand at attention. Your audience?

It can’t be good. You’re sure of it.

You don’t meet her in the throne room as you have in the past. Instead, the guard leads you to a small chamber off the chapel, a nondescript little room with no decor, only a table with a candelabra lit in the center.

She’s seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best.

“Is my brother well?” you blurt out as soon as the guard has closed the door behind you. It was the first, biggest concern you had - you couldn’t hold it in. Had something happened in the citadel?

She inclines her head, shrouded in darkness. “I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”

You duck your head, flooded with relief. “I’m at your service, as always.”

And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is.

The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.

“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. No sign of grief from the widow, no sign of trepidation from the new ruler, no sign of regret from the human asking you to take a life. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. And I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”

You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.

The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands.

But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat?

Could you tell her yes and then leave? Vanish into the forest? What would become of your brother, if you did? Would he be responsible for your sins?

Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could send finer clothes to your brother, help pay for his books, maybe even a little spending money. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years.

And payment for your silence - ongoing? For how long, forever?

None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”

You know it. She knows it.

“The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.

She accepts your silence as acquiescence and adds, “Tonight.”

“Tonight?” you repeat, voice coming out too wispy.

She meets your gaze, still cold. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” you say, the only correct answer. But your mind is scrambling far away, getting ahead - what weapons do you have on hand, how will you do this -

“You didn’t strike me as softhearted,” she says, full of disdain.

“I’m not,” you defend. It’s just that it’s Yoongi. Yoongi, who sees your sharp edges and smiles because he knows firsthand how much sharp edges are worth. How - how - how can you? How can you pretend it’s just a hunt, just a necessity, when you know how his mouth tastes, how he looks at you like you’re something?

Her even look turns darker, a shade closer to a frown. “I know you have the stomach and skill to kill. And I know you dally with him. He’ll follow you - take him to the woods and be done with it.”

You haven’t been as discrete as you thought you had. You wonder who else in town knows about whom you dally with.

Not that it will matter, after tonight. Not if you follow orders.

Not when you follow orders.

“Yes, your Majesty,” you say, head bowed.

There’s no other correct answer. Your freedom had always had a price.

–

There’s some poetic irony, you think, in killing Min Yoongi with the blade he made just for you.

Your mind is stuck on this, circling it, unable to let go, as you approach the smithy.

The lights are out - there’ll be no late-night projects, not during the official mourning for the King. You hope Park Jihoon, whose quarters are above the smithy, just across the yard from Yoongi’s tiny cabin, sleeps deeply.

You know Yoongi keeps a key in the eaves above his front window; you’ve seen him retrieve it no less than a half-dozen times - usually he’s reaching for it, his shirt rising and showing a slip of belly that you can’t help but run your hands across as he laughs and tells you to be patient.

You reach it on your own, tonight. You let yourself in as silently as possible, closing the door behind you, placing the key gently on his tiny, wooden table. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and although the fire in the hearth has gone out, you can see the lump of blankets through the darkness that show you his form.

You approach quietly, as you would approach a potential score, letting yourself slip into the mindset of surviving the forest.

You hesitate when you stand over him. He sleeps on his back, the light from the streetlamps outside casting flickering yellow over his delicate features. His eyelids flutter. Next to his head, his fingers twitch.

If you strike true, this could be over in an instant.

His eyes slide open, and a hazy smile drifts over his face. “Am I having a very good dream?” he murmurs. His eyes trail down your form and freeze on the knife in your hand. The smile fades, and his eyes meet yours again, a question in them. “Or perhaps a very bad one?”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. Then, you move at the same time - you lunging and plunging the blade into the spot where his heart lay, and him rolling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud.

You yank your blade free from where it pierced Yoongi’s empty mattress and wheel to follow him as he scrambles upright and towards the door.

You should’ve locked it. You shouldn’t have apologized, your voice and your regret giving him the split second to bolt.

You follow him at a sprint, panting hard, as the fool runs barefoot through the smithy’s yard, heading for the forest.

Your forest.

It’s overcast tonight, threatening rain. No moon or stars to guide you, you follow Yoongi as he zigs and zags blindly through the trees. You have the advantage. You know where you are, even in the dark.

It’s primal, as you forge deeper and deeper through the underbrush, just sinew and silence as you run. Wind whistles around you as you focus on breathing, focus on following the crunch of Yoongi’s wild path. The earth seems to rise up to meet each footfall with a jolting slap. The darkness seems to spur you on like it knows you need this, pressing you onward, telling you, hurry, hurry.

If you can herd him towards the east, you can cut him off at the ravine - he won’t be able to do it barefoot, not without stumbling, not without cutting those bare feet on the sharp rocks. You pick up the pace, emboldened by the plan, knees and elbows pumping as you close in.

Without warning, Yoongi stops short and wheels around on you, feet skidding a little on the loose needles that coat the forest floor. It’s so unexpected that the inertia carries you to him before you can tell your legs to quit. Before you can slow, before you can turn, he grabs you by the arms and slams you backwards into the thick trunk of an oak tree, hard enough to knock the wind out of you with an audible gasp.

You’re surprised enough that the knife drops from your fingers, and he wastes no time gripping you even tighter and throwing you to the ground, instantly dropping his body over yours and holding you down as best he can as you struggle. The blade lies just out of reach, taunting you, and you reach up and stretch as hard as you can to wiggle your fingers closer, but Yoongi roughly jerks your arm away.

You’re gasping for breath as you struggle beneath his weight, trying to keep your vision clear. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have to chase him, have to fight him. You aren’t used to this - the deer don’t fight back.

“Why?” he pants heavily, his whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. Sweat runs down his neck from the curled, damp edges of his hair. His eyes are wild, confused above you.

“Do you know who your father is?” you respond in answer, and the question surprises him so much that he leans back, like he’s trying to get a better look at you.

It’s all you need. You use your feet and your core strength to stretch just past where you couldn’t reach with his full weight on you, and your fingers close around the blade’s handle. In a flash, you have the sharp side pressing to the pulse point on Yoongi’s neck, hard enough that you know he can feel the sting, your other hand curling in his shirt and holding him still. His eyes widen and he freezes, straining to hold himself up and away from you.

“If you move I’ll do it, and it won’t be quick,” you hiss, teeth gritted so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. Your heart slams in your chest, adrenaline sending tingles clear down to your toes. You’re dizzy with fear. You aren’t sure what’s scarier - actually doing what you’re meant to, or having to report that you didn’t.

You’re both stuck there - a tableau, an oil painting, frozen for eternity, never moving on from this moment. A million possibilities stretch on as Yoongi’s pulse beats visibly against the knife he’d sharpened for you just days ago.

You feel like you’re floating outside your body; you can’t feel any of it - not the knife’s handle against your palm, not Yoongi’s hips still pinning yours, not the sticks and stones beneath your spine, not the sticky humidity of a night on the precipice of storm. Not your own thrumming, frightened heartbeat.

You know you can’t do it - not this way. Not like this, not with his eyes on yours, steady, as if he’s not staring down his death. Not like this, looking into his face and remembering the first time you were under him this way, remembering every time after that. Your hand trembles as you will yourself not to pull the blade away.

But he knows. Yoongi’s always called your every bluff, has always been perfectly capable of shooting you a knowing half-smile and pushing right past your blustering, always able to find the person on the other side of the facade - the person who’s scared,confused, alone.

“No you won’t,” he murmurs, low, and there’s nothing accusing or mocking in it. He’s simply telling you what he knows.

Slowly, carefully, he lowers his face closer to yours, so deliberately that the knife slides harmlessly along his skin until he’s clear of it. He presses his lips to yours, uncertain at first, then with more insistence when you don’t push him away.

The fear and adrenaline crash through you in time with a not-so-distant crack of thunder, blinding you, rendering you thoughtless and animalistic. You drop the knife with a thud, barely aware that you’re doing it, your hand coming instead to tangle in his loose hair, clutching it tightly at the base of his neck and pressing his head closer to yours, kissing him deeper, needing to absolutely drown in his kiss.

He grunts at your enthusiasm, nipping at your bottom lip before diving into you again, licking deep into your mouth and pressing his hips down into yours in rhythm with the kiss. You move with him desperately, the quiet of the woods scattered by your combined gasping breaths, tiny sounds of pleasure slipping through the cracks in your armor, the wet sounds of your mouths coming apart and meeting again hungrily. Despite the earth solid beneath you, you feel like you’re spinning. You clutch him tightly, one hand in his hair and the other arm coming around his shoulders, tethering him to you.

He’s the only thing keeping you here, in the present, not skittering off to somewhere safe inside your head.

You let him hold you there, pressed between him and the unyielding ground below you, channel all the rushing adrenaline into how you meet his fiery kisses, pressing your mouth hard back against his like it’s a battle, into how you roll your hips against his, thrilling at feeling him hard and ready for you. But for all the intensity, for the dizziness sweeping over you, neither of you rushes - you kiss for so long that your lips tingle, your core throbs, the night grows blacker, the thunder tiptoes closer.

You swipe your tongue over his familiar lips, whining in your throat when he opens for you again, welcomes you in, rocks against you and closes his eyes against the sting as you unconsciously tighten your fingers in his hair.

Then he breaks the kiss, pulls himself free of your grasp, nudges his nose to the underside of your jaw until you lean your head back, breathing hard, giving him room to attach teeth and lips to the skin of your neck.

He gathers a bit of skin and worries it between his teeth, muttering, “You won’t kill me. No one else can make you come undone like I do.”

The sound that tears out of you is half laugh and half desperate groan. “Prove it, then,” you goad, fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the edge towards you. He releases the spot on your neck long enough to let you pull the material over his head. Then he sits back on his knees between your legs and looks you over, one hand absently sliding down the front of his trousers, pressing relief into his waiting cock.

“Yours,” he says, tone steely. You find your own hem with shaking fingers. Distantly, there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the canopy of tree branches above you before plunging you into darkness again. You pull your top over your head and drop it next to his, leaning back on your elbows.

All thoughts of what you’re supposed to do here have left you; there’s only hands-shaking adrenaline and instinct driving you to give in to your desires and pursue what you want - Yoongi, Yoongi, more of Yoongi.

“Trousers, too,” Yoongi tells you, voice quiet. His fingers are on the string of his own trousers, but his eyes are on your exposed chest. Hungry.

You do as he says, untying your bottoms and pushing them away with your feet and waiting for his next move. The night isn’t cold, but you shiver. The forest, your forest, feels like a sanctuary, like it’s wrapping around the two of you and keeping you safe from everything outside. Like if you stayed in here, together, you might be safe from her after all.

But you know that’s a lie.

You push the thought away by coming up on your knees and approaching Yoongi, who’s still kneeling, too. You press your chest to him with a shudder as you reach to kiss him again. He gives a quiet, happy noise low in his throat and you answer with a hum as you lick into him again.

You slip a hand between your bodies and find him heavy and leaking. He presses into your touch with a nearly-silent keen that you manage to catch, and you trace your fingertips up his length, playing in the wetness you find waiting for you at the tip, then pulling that wetness down to the base again. You repeat the motion, touch featherlight, and listen to Yoongi’s breathing hitch and catch and sigh as he closes his eyes and enjoys it. He’s silky against your fingertips, skin like satin even here.

Yoongi trails kisses down your jaw, making a clear path towards your neck, and he skims a hand up your side and past your ribs, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb roughly over your hardening nipple. You gasp, fingers twitching against his length, which spurs him on. He runs his knuckles lightly over the bud, then takes it gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental roll. Your gasped ah turns into a liquid moan and he does it again, harder. You keen, a note of complaint in it, as he repeats the movement that is somehow both too much and not enough.

You wrap your hand fully around him, done teasing him with barely-there strokes, and roll your wrist once, twice, three times, his low grumbling reply music to your ears. He’s still mouthing at your neck and he switches hands, igniting sparks as he gently pinches the other nipple instead. Then he reaches and bumps your wrist out of his way as he cups your sex and spears you on his middle finger.

“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine, rocking into his hand, trying to take the digit just a little deeper.

He must hear the desperation in your tone or sense it in the way you clench around his single finger, because he takes mercy on you and presses a second finger in beside the first. You sigh, still rocking against his hand, as he fucks into the spot in your front wall that makes your eyes drift closed and your toes curl up. You abandon his cock, bringing your hands to his shoulders, hanging on to keep yourself upright. When he presses his thumb against your clit you groan, loud and long, no one to hear you, and let your head fall back.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, plunging his fingers in and out of your wet heat. You can hear it each time he pushes them back in, the sound ringing in the silent woods, the only competition the approaching rolls of gentle thunder.

He works you up until you’re panting, your forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone, your hips in constant motion as you seek more. Your arms are looped around his neck, though you don’t remember starting to hold him, and your fingers find the ends of his long hair, tugging lightly in time with his motions. Occasionally his thumb circles your clit, causing your hips to jerk, but the angle stops him from keeping it constant. He pulls his hand away, and you take a bracing breath, coming back to your senses as the sensations fade.

He drops back from his knees, one arm behind his head as he lays back. He locks his eyes on yours as he strokes himself, his teeth toying with his bottom lip.

“Come on, then,” he prompts, his hand languid and lazy on his cock. Your body buzzes as you climb over him and sink down, letting him fill you, stretch you, break you into pieces. You ride him hard, one hand splayed on his flushed chest for balance, as around you the wind picks up, the leaves on the trees fluttering.

Yoongi’s eyes screw closed and his head tips back, even as his hands continue to guide your hips through each rise and fall.

You slow, savoring the drag against your walls, savoring his pretty skin beneath your fingers, savoring the grunts and hitched breaths he’s trying to hold back.

You could have loved Yoongi. In another life, where you had chips to bargain with. In a life where you fit into place within the village, where wild wasn’t as necessary to you as air. Even if the Queen had never called for Yoongi’s head - this life never meant for you to love him.

This is what you think about as you lightly rake your nails down his chest, watching him squirm beneath you. You think about all the times he’d been on the edge of saying it.

You think about all the times the feeling had risen up in you, as warm as a patch of sunlit floor, and you’d had to blow it away like an errant dandelion seed.

Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.

The knife sits where you’d dropped it before undressing, just past Yoongi’s head.

You could probably reach it now.

Yoongi seems to sense the change in your motions and cracks an eye open, his fingers on your hips loosening.

His gaze follows yours. A flash of lightning makes the metal shine for a split second, and then you’re surrounded by the sudden patter of falling rain.

“Guess we better hurry,” Yoongi mutters, reaching up to grip the back of your neck and pulling you down so your chest is flush with his.

All thoughts leave your mind as he hammers into you from below - the knife is forgotten. Your feelings are forgotten. The rain, starting to muddy up the ground around you, forgotten.

You cum around him in silence, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his biceps. The groan he lets out as you squeeze around him in waves is drowned out by a growl of thunder that feels like it’s right above you, all around you.

Yoongi pumps into you with abandon, suddenly losing the rhythm he’d created. He gives two more shuddery thrusts and then lets his arms flop to the ground with a contented sigh.

For a second, you both lay there, sweat-slick and panting. Another lightning splits the sky, and the rain comes harder. He slides out of you and you wiggle until you’re laying just next to him instead of on top of him.

You can’t stop looking at him. He seems determined not to look at you.

The rain washes everything away - the smell of sex, your sweat, your affection, your sadness, your pride.

“My father,” he murmurs beneath you, and you go deathly still. “Yes, I knew.”

You swallow, brush rainwater from your brow. “So does the Queen,” you say back. An explanation, and an answer to the why he’d leveled at you an hour ago.

He nods slowly, expression clearing with understanding.

You feel no absolution for it.

Finally, he leans his head back again, his bangs flopping heavily now that they’re saturated with rainwater, and eyes the knife.

You sit up. He brings his eyes to you and watches silently - as if he accepts whatever move you make. As if, should you reach for the metal, he wouldn’t fight you this time.

“Go.” The word tumbles roughly onto the inch of mud between you. You don’t remember making the decision to say it.

He sits up, elbows and shoulders caked with mud. But all he does is watch you, wait for you to change your mind.

“Go,” you repeat, meaning it. Now that you’ve said it once, now that the decision was made, you know it’s the right one. “I’ll tell her it’s done.”

You could never kill him. You both knew it all along.

He dresses wordlessly, and you do the same, pulling your top back over your head and tying up your trouser string. When you look up, he’s standing in the rain, watching you.

You stoop and grab the knife he’d made you. You grip it tightly in your hand, refuse to meet his eyes.

He’s not challenging you, not questioning you - and that, in itself, feels like a slap.

“You can’t come back,” you say, as evenly as you can muster. When he just looks at you, infuriatingly silent, you add, “You can’t. Okay? If she - she can never know.”

“I know,” he says, and then he gives you a long, searching look. He’s drenched now, and your hands itch to push his set hair away from his face, to use your thumbs to chase raindrops - you think - away from his lashline.

Then, choked, he offers, “You could -”

“Don’t,” you bite out, stopping him before he can make you any kind of offer. You can’t. You can’t go with him. You can’t disappear into the night. Your brother is counting on you. You won’t let him pay for your sins.

Yoongi shakes his head. He takes another step closer. Your fingers tighten on the knife’s handle.

“Y/N, I -”

You raise the knife above your head in a flash, eyes going wide in fury.

“Fucking go!” you bark.

He holds up his hands, takes a few steps backwards, giving up his quest to make this harder than it needs to be. Lightning illuminates him and above your head, the blade shines for a split second before everything is cast into inky darkness again.

When your eyes adjust to the darkness, trees around you forming a shape again, he’s gone.

You don’t follow him, and you don’t return to your cabin. You sink to your knees in the mud, dropping the knife onto the ground, and sob into your hands, the noise swallowed by the flurry of rain and the intermittent cracks of thunder.

—

You sleep. You hunt. When the time comes, you bring your scores to the Queen atop your wagon.

She doesn’t ask you about Yoongi. You don’t offer her anything, just thank her for her grace routinely when she orders your purse to be filled.

You don’t stop at the tavern on the way back home. You don’t stop at any of the shops - not this time. You don’t trust yourself to act right if Yoongi’s disappearance gets brought up. You don’t trust that no one will do the math that he vanished four nights ago, and now you’re a hollowed shell who can’t form words.

The townspeople have seen you grieve before. They’d know what they were seeing.

The next trip is easier, and the one after that even more. The Queen never thanks you, not that you expected it, but you start finding an extra purse of coins in your wagon each time you return to it after bringing in your kills.

The price for your silence. The price for what she thinks you’ve done.

It hurts the most when your wagon passes the smithy, but you keep your eyes on the cobblestones and your hands on the reins and eventually the hurt fades along with the village as you get farther and farther away.

The seasons turn. The hurts fade. You send extra money to your brother. You sleep. You hunt.

Eventually, you stop waking up from nightmares that feature the glint of metal. You stop waking up trying desperately to cling to your dreams as fruitlessly as clinging to smoke, left with only damp places on your pillow and the memory of a low, throaty chuckle ringing in your ears.

Eventually, you can ride past the smithy without the pang in your chest. You can stop for a pint without watching the shadows for the appearance of a gummy smile. You can laugh when the bartender cracks a joke, can sound like yourself when you ask the baker’s daughter how she’s been faring.

It is after one of these trips, deep into color-saturated autumn, that you return to your cabin with wagon empty and purses full.

Something isn’t right. You freeze, casting your eyes around the forest, but it holds its secrets tight.

On the ground in front of your door, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, is a brand new, shining blade.

thank you so much for reading!!! i really really like this one and i hope you do too!! <3

#bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi angst #fairy tale au #fic: the price

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luveline · 1 year

Note

would you ever consider writing poly!marauders? or even more of the luna reader with platonic (or romantic) marauders?

if u have more poly!m requests please send them (to clarify this is romantic) fem!reader tw cut

"You should be more careful," Remus says, "really, dove."

You lean back against the kitchen counter and try not to wince as he finishes with the dressing on your arm.

"I am careful," you say.

He laughs softly. It's a rare sound, kind that has you smiling immediately. You wrap your arms around his neck, careful not to press down on your injury, and kiss his neck quickly.

"Thanks for fixing me, handsome," you say.

Remus pats your back. "That's never something you have to thank me for… You might like me less when the boys come home."

You pull away. "You texted them?" you ask, already resigned to your fate.

He looks gorgeous even when you're mad at him, pale skinned but dark in his way, dark eyes and dark brows and his amazingly handsome nose that makes you wanna lean over and kiss him.

"Afraid so." Remus squeezes a path up your arm to your shoulder. "You know the lashing they'd give me if I didn't."

"Well," you murmur, "I suppose you did patch me up."

He kissed your forehead as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. "That's the spirit."

"Angel?"

You relax. It's James, which means you aren't in for a loving telling off, just a loving. You stay by Remus' side until James is in view, a shock of green rugby uniform stark against brown skin. He sheds his bag and you practically throw yourself into his open arms, 'cause usually that's exactly what he wants.

"Wait wait wait!" he says, holding out his hand, his wrist brace scratchy against your arm. "Don't hurt yourself worse! What happened?"

You fight him, trying to hug him and laughing when he holds you back like you're nothing. He's strong. "James, come on. I cut it on the garden fence."

He makes a sound like he feels super sorry for you and finally lets you hug him, your face in his solid chest, your hands at the small of his back. You settle in for as long as you want, James and you both suckers for a good hug, and sigh as his cheek kisses the top of your head.

"You okay, Moons? You look tired." James voice rumbles through your hear, low and warm.

"Fine. She just shocked me, running in the house with blood dripping down to her elbow."

"Give us a hug."

"I'll make tea."

James turns his lips to your forehead, "How come he'll hug me when we're alone, and he'll hug you all day long when you're together, but he's totally allergic to affection when we're together?"

"He's shy," you mumble, "ask him again in an hour and he'll say yes."

The door opens a second time and you'd hide your face pretty much in James' armpit, laughing through the horror. "Hide me."

"No, I don't think so."

James works your face away from his chest, hands held over the soft slopes of your shoulders. He looks you in the eye, all melty brown and sweetness. "Sure you're okay?" he asks.

You hum. He kisses your cheek.

"Okay, I'm gonna go harass Remus for a hug then, before he boils the kettle and threatens me with a scalding. Love you."

"I don't love you, you're leaving me for the wolves."

"I'm hardly a wolf," comes Sirius' amused drawl.

James raises his eyebrows at you in a silent gesture for Good luck, angel, and disappears around the corner to the kitchen.

You sigh and spin on your heel, finding your arch nemesis (concerned boyfriend) propped against the wall. He's in casual work attire, which for Sirius is a smart pair of trousers and a dark button down with the sleeves rolled up. His tan seems to have waned in the winter, leaving him pale. Though he often claims in a joking manner that it's a consequence of loving you, he's always so worried it steals the colour from his skin.

I like to worry, he'd assured you once.

"You might not believe me, but you look very handsome today," you say.

He raises a dark brow. "You say that every day."

"Emphasis on 'very,'" you say.

He pulls his weight off of the wall and holds out his hand as he approaches. You let him take your arm, let him assess the small dressing bandage Remus has applied over your cut.

"It was deep," you admit, "but not very long."

"Mm, Remus said," Sirius says, near murmuring as his thumb works into your wrist. He rubs over unbroken skin gently. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head vehemently.

"Swear?"

"Why would I lie?" you ask. You smile at him. "You really do look handsome. And you didn't need to come home from work."

"It's my lunch break."

"Oh, good! Let me make you something, while everybody's home."

"Or I can make you something," he suggests.

You enter into a stare off. He faces you with little expression, a blank slate. A pretty blank slate. His lashes don't so much as flicker, while you struggle to keep a straight face under so much seriousness. Your lips twitch with a laugh and something about it must break him, because he takes your face into his two hands and presses your noses together.

"You make it very hard to be sensible about things," he says, and gives you a chaste kiss.

His lips are a warmth you savour, and he steals them back much too swiftly for your liking.

"Remus is the sensible one," you deny. "You're the overprotective one. And James is… James." You sigh, lovelorn. "And I'm the stupid one who cuts herself on chicken wire. You really didn't have to come home."

"I wanted to."

He leads you by the hand into the kitchen, where James and Remus stand in front of an unboiled kettle, Remus face smushed into James broad shoulder, a muscled arm locking him into place. He looks quite happy.

"Sorry, I'm still making tea," he says into James' sleeve.

"No, I'm gonna make dinner," you say, yanking Sirius to the lovefest.

You worm under James' other arm and Sirius strokes at the hair curling over Remus' forehead, mumbling, "Oh, god, she's killed you."

"Worse ways to go," Remus says.

#poly marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #the marauders #the marauders x reader #the marauders fanfiction #poly marauders x reader

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greenorangevioletgrass · 6 months

Text

give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca

pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨

<<< read part 1 here >>>

06.13 PM

Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.

The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”

“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.

“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”

“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”

Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.

“Smells yummy.”

“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.

No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.

“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”

“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.

“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”

“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”

“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”

“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”

“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.

“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.

“Why not?”

“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”

Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes.

“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”

“He should come home, then.”

It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.

The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.

So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”

When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.

“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”

Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.

Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.

He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.

And little does he know, so do you.

“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”

It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.

Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.

“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.

But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.

“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.

And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.

***

08:37 PM

If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.

But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.

“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”

“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”

“Uh… what do you got?”

“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”

His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”

“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly.

Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?

“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.

He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.

Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”

You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.

“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.

“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”

You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”

“‘The Bear Who Did.’”

“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”

The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.

“Me too.”

“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”

He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”

At home, the words echo in your head.

With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.

“So, uh… how have you been?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”

“And do you? Live a little?”

“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.

Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”

“Seriously?”

“Mm-hm.”

You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”

He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.

“Oh come on…”

“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”

His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”

Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.

Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you.

This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.

“I’ve been on dates here and there…”

Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”

You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”

He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.

“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”

“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass. “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”

“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.

“Because I do miss you.”

Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”

“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”

Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”

He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”

“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.

“No. That’s not it.”

“Then what the fuck is it?”

Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.

After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”

It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”

“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”

“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”

Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”

“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”

The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.

“I shouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”

Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”

You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”

“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”

You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”

“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.

The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.

“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic.

“What was that?”

“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.

The coast is clear.

You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.

“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”

“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.

“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.

Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.

“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it.

His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.

You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.

There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out.

“It’s in the—”

Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.

He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.

“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.

He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”

It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.

And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?

Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.

“Does it still hurt?”

You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.

His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—

“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”

The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.

Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.

Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.

You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…

You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.

“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.

Or worse, a mistake.

You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.

It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”

He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”

Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.

God.

You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.

Christmas Eve, two years ago.

Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.

And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.

So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.

But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost.

“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.

“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.

“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.

“You sure?”

No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.

So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to.

“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…

“Luca, I— now.”

He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”

“What, why?”

“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.

Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”

“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”

His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.

Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.

Down your torso.

Between your nether lips.

You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”

“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.

His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”

The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?

Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”

“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.

“Luca…”

“Wait, just let me—”

So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,

“Please.”

The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.

It’s just you and him and this need.

And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…

“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.

You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—

“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”

You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.

Love.

As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…

“Luca…” you gasp sharply.

He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”

You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay.

And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…

You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.

Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.

He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”

“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”

“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?

“I want you to.”

“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”

You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”

“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you.

Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.

There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.

“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.

Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.

***

9:56 PM

“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment.

“It was.”

“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”

“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.

“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?

Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”

You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.

The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”

“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.

“No, I just… I wanna know.”

“You don’t really wanna know.”

“Is it a lot?”

“I mean…”

“How many?”

You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”

He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”

“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”

“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”

“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”

“What?”

“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”

Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”

“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”

“And you see me in them?”

“Every single one.”

“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.

And you tried very hard.

“I’m sorry.”

He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.

The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.

Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.

He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.

Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.

You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.

And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,

“Do you still love me?”

You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”

“Do you want us to try again?”

“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”

“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.

“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.

“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.

Slow and steady and certain.

The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”

“Then let me come home. Please?”

“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”

His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.

“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.

“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”

That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.

“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”

You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”

“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”

“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.

You hope he will.

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