#Contagious Courage

[bccksmarts]

𝐒𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝑫𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑬

Just a Tinmione moodboard for @vingtiemes / @curiosityshop bc I think about them so much and they're just so CUTE

[congregenturanimarum]

[luna-azzurra]

Good Traits Gone Bad

Empathy turning into manipulation

Imagine a character who is deeply empathetic, someone who genuinely feels and understands the emotions of others. At first, this makes them incredibly compassionate and kind, always there to lend an ear or offer comfort. But over time, this empathy begins to shift. Instead of just understanding how others feel, they start to use that understanding to manipulate those around them. They know exactly what to say to get people to do what they want, twisting their caring nature into a tool for control. What once was a beautiful gift becomes a weapon, used to bend others to their will without them even realizing it.

Confidence becoming arrogance

Think of someone who exudes confidence—someone who knows their worth and isn’t afraid to go after what they want. This kind of self-assuredness is magnetic and inspiring, drawing people in. But sometimes, this confidence can grow into something darker. The character starts to believe they’re always right, that their way is the best and only way. They dismiss others’ ideas and opinions, thinking they know better than everyone else. What was once a healthy self-esteem turns into arrogance, pushing people away as they start to feel belittled and unappreciated.

Ambition turning into obsession

Picture a character who is ambitious and driven, always striving for the next big achievement. Their dedication is admirable, pushing them to work hard and aim high. But ambition can have a dark side, too. Slowly, their drive becomes an obsession. They start to focus solely on their goals, willing to sacrifice anything or anyone who stands in their way. Friends, family, and even their own health fall by the wayside as they chase success at any cost. What was once an admirable quality turns destructive, consuming them completely.

Loyalty becoming blind devotion

Loyalty is such a beautiful trait. A loyal character is dependable, someone who stands by the people they care about no matter what. But loyalty can also become dangerous if it goes too far. This character might start to overlook red flags or harmful behaviors, sticking by someone or something even when it’s clearly detrimental. They become so blindly devoted that they lose sight of their own well-being and moral compass. What starts as a positive trait turns into a kind of self-destructive stubbornness, harming them more than helping.

Courage turning into recklessness

Imagine someone who’s incredibly brave, always ready to face challenges head-on and stand up for what they believe in. At first, this courage is inspiring, giving them the strength to overcome obstacles and help others. But sometimes, courage can cross a line. It turns into recklessness, making them take unnecessary risks without considering the consequences. They start to believe they’re invincible, putting themselves and others in danger because they’re too focused on proving their bravery. What was once a powerful strength becomes a dangerous flaw.

Determination becoming stubbornness

There’s something admirable about a character who never gives up, no matter how tough things get. Their determination helps them push through difficulties and keep going when others might quit. But when that determination turns into stubbornness, it’s a different story. They refuse to change their minds, even when all the signs point to a different path. They ignore advice, dismiss alternative viewpoints, and stick to their course out of sheer willpower, even when it’s clearly not working. Their once-praiseworthy persistence becomes a source of frustration for those around them.

Optimism becoming naivety

Someone who always looks on the bright side, no matter what. Their optimism is contagious, lifting the spirits of those around them and helping them see the silver lining in every situation. But if they aren’t careful, this optimism can morph into naivety. They might start ignoring real dangers or fail to recognize when they’re being taken advantage of. Their rosy outlook makes them blind to harsh realities, and they become easily deceived or led astray, all because they’re so focused on seeing the good in everything and everyone.

Protectiveness turning into possessiveness

A character who is naturally protective of their loved ones, always looking out for them and ensuring they’re safe and happy. This protectiveness is heartwarming and makes those around them feel cherished. But when protectiveness goes too far, it can become possessiveness. The character starts to feel like they own the people they care about, becoming overly controlling and jealous. They start dictating others' actions, justifying it as care, but it’s really about their need to keep everything under their control. What started as a caring instinct turns into something suffocating and unhealthy.

Altruism becoming self-neglect

Think about a character who is incredibly selfless, always putting others' needs before their own. They’re the kind of person who would give you the shirt off their back, always ready to help, always there for everyone. But this selflessness can go too far. It turns into self-neglect, where they completely disregard their own needs and well-being. They keep giving and giving until they have nothing left, leading to burnout and exhaustion. Their altruism, while beautiful, ends up harming them because they don’t know how to set boundaries or take care of themselves.

Honesty becoming brutal bluntness

There’s a lot to be said for a character who is straightforward and honest, someone who tells it like it is and doesn’t sugarcoat the truth. People appreciate their transparency and trustworthiness. But when honesty turns into brutal bluntness, it’s no longer a positive trait. This character starts to disregard others' feelings, using their honesty as an excuse to be harsh and tactless. Their words cut deep, hurting those around them, all in the name of being truthful. What was once refreshing candor becomes a source of pain, as they lose sight of the importance of kindness in communication.

[selfdiscoverymedia]

SS23-33. Victoria Coure Smiles Couragously

Supporting the Supporters with Sara Troy and her guest Victoria Coure, on air from August 15th Victoria has faced numerous challenges and adversities throughout her life, enduring countless downs, unimaginable abuse, and persistent neglect. Despite the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that have been thrown her way, she has remained resilient and determined to create a better world for herself…

[d42itus1]

Novel Idea

Think about it. Baker City, Unwelcome Wagon. I'm a 5th generation Oregonian, whose parents' families both traveled to Oregon in different wagon trains, settling in separate regions. As a native Oregonian, I was surprised by getting lumped with the Californians when I moved here. Tom McCall made an impression of Oregon that lives today. It hurts when it happens to you. As we work towards a…

[pochaccoups]

achilles’ heel — choi seungcheol

pairing — choi seungcheol x fem!reader

summary — after a knee surgery, your boyfriend feels off about his body. you’re determined to show him just how much you love it.

wc — 3.1k

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. smut, established relationship, light angst, fluff, body insecurity, body worship, petnames (baby, pretty girl), oral sex (m receiving), creampie

author’s note — hi i still think about when cheol said in a live that he wears big hoodies bc he’s insecure of his body and im still upset because i need him to know that he makes couprangs (ME) feel insane over his body that’s sooo big and strong ok enjoy

Something is bothering Seungcheol.

You’ve been with your boyfriend long enough to reasonably suspect when there’s something on his mind, and while he’s gotten relatively good at putting on a front to his members, it’s a little harder for him to conceal his thoughts from you. You, who’s ever observant and aware of his habits. You, who, when Seungcheol is sick with something even if non-contagious, somehow coincidentally feel the same symptoms. You, who is practically empathetically connected with him.

It’s not hard to notice that he’s been distant, though. Ever since he’d been able to walk again after his surgery, he’s had a weird edge to him that was never there before, like a rescue dog with trust issues. 

By no means had he become neglectful to you. Not once had he stopped treating you like you were his entire world, but it was all in the way his hugs weren’t as tight as usual. He insisted he didn’t need help with things like showering or dressing anymore—which was fair since he could walk now, but when you’d asked if he wanted to join you in the shower, suddenly he was too tired. Once upon a time you couldn’t even finish the question before he was stripped naked and next to you. 

You don’t remember the last time you’d been intimate with him. The moment your lips would make their way to his neck after a soft makeout, he’d ease you away from him, gently confessing that he just wasn’t in the mood, that he was just too tired again. 

And that’s fine with you—you’d die before disrespecting the boundaries which are so crucial to your relationship. You did miss him though, and deep down, something in your heart had told you that, along with everything else, something was not right.

You’re curled into his side one night when you find the courage to confront him.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Your suspicions are confirmed the moment his chest stiffens under your cheek. 

“I know… Why?” he asks, hesitant, as though he’s walking on eggshells.

“I feel like you’ve been acting, I don’t know, off. I’m worried about you, Cheollie,” you admit, poking your finger into his torso. 

Three of his breaths, full of contemplation, fill the air before he speaks again. 

“It’s my body,” he says. “I don’t like how much bigger I’ve gotten.”

You bolt upright, staring dead into his eyes with daggers in yours.

“That’s why you’ve been so squirmish?”

He nods his head, pouting absentmindedly, then continues. “I’ve just felt… gross.”

It takes everything in you not to smack him across the face. Your hands ball into fists, your face growing hot as rage bubbles and stirs beneath your skin. You climb on top of him, trapping his waist between your thighs as you sit upon him.

“Choi Seungcheol, you’re so stupid.” There’s an air of affection in your words, but you hope they’re stern enough to get through to him.

He groans as he hides his face in the fabric of his hoodie. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”

“Because you knew it was stupid? Cheol, you were in rehab recovering from surgery. You literally couldn’t walk for weeks. Besides, you’re acting like it’s a bad thing that you’ve gotten ‘bigger’,” you say, fingers wrapping around his wrists so you can pull his hands away from his face. “Do you know how feral you’ve been making me feel recently?”

“Feral?!” he says, eyes widening as he fails to stifle an adorable giggle.

“Your shoulders are so broad now and it drives me fucking crazy,” you say, falling into a fit of your own laughter because the sound of your boyfriend’s laugh is more contagious than any sickness. 

Lacing your fingers with his, your expression hardens. In the rich brown of his eyes, his insecurity finally rears itself to you—and you’re determined to destroy every last shred of it.

“Love everything about your body, Cheol. Love when you cuddle me and hug me with your big arms, makes me feel so safe,” you confess, your smile radiating warmth. Your fingers squeeze his ones.

“Love how you can carry me around, on your back, in your arms…” You let go of his hands to flatten your palms against his stomach, smoothing up his torso slowly. His own hands, eager to never be empty, find your hips, his fingers pinching softly at you through your leggings.

“Love your thick thighs, love sitting in your lap…” You’ve reached his chest now and Seungcheol is smirking — he’s well aware of your obsession with this part of him. 

“Love when you throw me around, manhandle me like a ragdoll, pin me down…” You’re grasping at his shoulders now, leaning forward until there’s hardly an inch between your faces.

“Love when you spank me…” 

It’s then that something in Seungcheol shifts. His pants grow tighter, his hips shifting underneath you as you straddle him. He likes to think he’s a man of self-control, even when it comes to your antics. But there are times where he abandons all discipline — right now, his head is cloudy because he hasn’t let you touch him in weeks.

“You’ve been depriving me of cock all this time because you’ve been eating too good?” you say, scoffing as you reach for the hem of Seungcheol’s hoodie to tug at it. You pause, glancing at him for approval. Still with a dash of hesitation he sits up, helping you shrug it over his head, exposing himself to you.

“Don’t get too bratty, I can keep depriving you,” he retorts, but it’s playful. 

It’s like your first time with him all over again. All you’d gotten over the past few weeks were glimpses of his bare skin, a peek as he came out of the shower or changed or when his shirt lifted up as he stretched. He’s always been a little modest, but never to this extent. 

The sight of his bare form knocks every last breath from your lungs. He’s always been beautiful—strong and dependable, now even more so. His body has always given you the urge to get on your knees and worship and pray to him like the Greeks did, now it feels as though you were born to do just that. 

Then there’s a pang of violence, too, because he hasn’t even changed that drastically. He’s a little softer in his tummy, his arms a little thicker, but that’s all, really. It’s definitely not something for him to have been hiding out of disgust. Of course, it’s not all too difficult to deduce why he felt it necessary to do it—he’s an idol. It’s his job to look picturesque and perfect and flawless. His mind is bound to become mean, to turn to cruel lies of not being good enough.

Your lips leave a trail along his skin, from his collarbones, to his chest, and down his abdomen. Your hope is that each kiss will help chase away Seungcheol’s every last insecurity. It’s naive of you, perhaps, because it will take a lot more than just this to unravel what he has convinced himself of. At the very least, it’s a start.

You paw at the band of his sweats, lips hovering below his belly button as you glance up at him.

“Can I take them off?”

A nervous pause. Then, “do it,” he says, sighing softly. 

And then you’re pulling them down his legs, down his thick, hard thighs—the ones made for you to sit on. 

His boxers come next, but not before you ask for his explicit permission again. More than ever, you’re utterly dedicated to his comfort. 

It’s instinct how your hand reaches for his cock, heavy as your fingers wrap around it and so thick that your fingertips don’t even touch. The sight of it which you’ve missed so much, pretty, pink, and veiny, has you drooling already, your teeth baring down on your bottom lip. You’re aching between your legs. 

You need him inside you or you might die.

Seungcheol’s eyes sparkle as he watches your lips leave wet kisses along his length, pecking along the veins as you make your way up, then spoiling his tip with sweet smooches and kitten licks in between.

“Missed you, Cheol,” you tell him, breathy and tender.

“I know,” he says, then you take his cock past your lips and he hisses as the warmth of your mouth greets him. 

He doesn’t realise how much he’s missed this, missed you, until his tip bumps the back of your throat and you’re choking around him despite not even having half of him in your mouth yet. His hand flies to grab a fistful of your hair, still managing to treat you gently as he pulls you back.

“Easy, pretty girl,” he pleads, the rasp in his voice instilling within you an urge to listen. His effect on you is trance-like, his honeyed voice irresistible. 

You blink up at him, batting your tear-brimmed lashes at him, knowing how it makes his heart swell. You take him slowly this time, one hand stroking at his base so that no inch of him is left untouched, and you swallow him little by little. 

Seungcheol lets out a low groan, a gorgeous sound that makes the world spin around you. It rushes straight to your core, burning through you, turning you hungrier, greedier.

You can’t help but slip one of your hands down between your thighs, sliding your fingers between your folds which you find practically dripping. Your fingertips dance over your clit, circling it softly before you dip two of your digits inside to feed the insatiable flame that burns in your core. 

“Fuck, baby,” Seungcheol groans, catching sight of the way your fingers pump in and out of your dripping hole. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

He doesn’t need to tell you—his cock twitches in your mouth as he speaks. 

The sheer size and thickness of your boyfriend’s length always proves challenging for you, but the heat emanating from deep within your core begs for you to spoil him—because his pleasure is equally yours—and has you burying him all the way down your throat in spite of the tears that spring to your eyes and the clench of your oesophagus around him. 

And the thing about Seungcheol is that his mere existence is enough to toss you out of your mind, to make you throw all morals out the window until you’re no better than a cat in heat.

He lets out a noise that’s part-laugh and part-moan as your nose nuzzles against the wiry hairs of his happy trail, never failing to be caught off guard by your eagerness even after years of being your lover. His hand settles on your cheek, at the corner of your lips that are stretched around his girth, his thumb drawing soft strokes on your skin.

“I said go easy,” he says, voice strained, but he chuckles amusedly through his words.

You bob your head back up, popping off of him briefly. Webs of glimmering spit connect your lips with his cock, and Seungcheol thinks you’ve never looked prettier. He can’t help but brush his thumb over your swollen lips while his eyes drink you in with a tender gleam. 

“Can’t help myself,” you reply, smiling coyly, then the next moment you’re back on him again, swirling your tongue around his tip.

You pull your fingers from your pussy momentarily to drag your nails along his thighs, so thick and heavy with muscle that you’re certain when you sink them into his skin he feels no more than a soft scratch. It helps when you swallow him whole again, helps keep your tears at bay just a little, helps the muscles of your throat relax so that you can bob your head up and down his length the way both you and him like it.

You don’t go too fast lest he pulls you away for ignoring his pleas, but there’s also no need for you to go too fast. Yes, you’ve missed him, missed having him like this, missed touching him, but right now that’s not what you’re concerned about. All that spurs you on is the want —the need—to make Seungcheol feel as desirable as he is to you. 

So you take him steadily, at a pace that’s enough to get him worked up and simultaneously lets your affection drip from every drag of your mouth along his length, lets you taste every inch of him and every drop of his salty precum. Your soft moans muffled by his cock merge with his ones, breathy and whiny, broken up by praises and light mewls of your name. 

One of your hands moves between your legs again, squelching as your fingers enter your throbbing cunt once more.

You refuse to break your eyes away from his, as though averting your gaze from him even for a second would mean he would vanish before you. It’s also Seungcheol’s Achilles’ heel—look into his eyes and he doesn’t stand a chance against you. 

You could predict the way curses start spilling from his lips and the way his cock starts to throb lightly in your mouth and the way his hips start to buck every time his tip reaches the back of your throat. When it comes to you, he’s weak and he will never hide it.

“Baby, I’m close,” he says, a near whisper. 

His confession prompts you to pull your mouth off of him and he whimpers, pouting shamelessly like a kicked puppy. Some alpha leader. 

“You’re really teasing me right now?” 

“Cheollie… You’ve been ignoring me for weeks and you think I’d just let you cum like that?” you say, but your voice is full of playfulness. You want to make up for the affection you haven’t been able to give him for so long, yet a part of you wants to get back at him a little. 

“I’ll remember this,” he grins.

“I know you will,” you tell him as you clamber up his legs until you’re straddling his waist, bending forward to press a chaste kiss to his mouth and pouting at him. “What if I want you to finish inside me though?”

“Then let me prep you first,” he insists, giant hands finding your hips and drawing circles with his thumbs. He’s about to flip you over onto your back, but you shake your head and press a hand to his chest to keep him still. 

“I’ve already prepped myself, Cheollie, you wanna taste?” 

Before he can bicker back, you push your soaked fingers between his lips and into his mouth, and he sucks them subconsciously, lapping up every last drop of your arousal with a moan.

When his mouth is free of your fingers, he smiles.

“I still wanna touch you,” he rasps, resolute.

You lean over him until your mouth is on his again, but this time your lips slide sloppily against one anothers’ from the mess of saliva and cum that drips from them. Your hands travel up his torso, palms smoothing over his bare flesh, but touching him is not enough. 

“I wanna take care of you, Seungcheol, so please just let me,” you whisper against his lips, grinding your hips over his cock where it lays against his abdomen. 

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, sighing as your lips drop down to his neck and nip at his tender skin there. “But I’m eating you out for at least two hours next time.”

You perk back up to shoot him an unamused look, in spite of the fact that it’s really a win-win situation for you. You just hate that there’s no budging your boyfriend’s stubbornness. 

“I love you,” he says, lips curling into a ghost of a smirk.

And here is your Achilles heel, because you’re just a girl, after all. A girl not immune to her breathtaking lover’s sweet words, whose heart sways at his whispers of affection to her—to only her. 

Warmth floods your veins. The need to be one with him becomes urgent. 

Grasping onto Seungcheol’s broad shoulders, you sink down upon him, inch by inch until he’s bottomed out inside you and your moans of relief are perfectly in sync. He grips your hips so hard they’ll probably bruise, no doubt having become unused to how sweetly your warm walls envelop his cock like a hug. Meanwhile you’ve forgotten how his dick, in all its thickness, is capable of punching the air from your lungs.

Still, there’s no hesitation in the way you start to bounce your hips on him and it’s not long before the burning stretch fizzles into a glowing pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

When you’re above him like this, you’re able to take in the sight of all of him. His biceps, bulky and thick, his shoulders, sturdy and broad. Every inch of him is so perfect that you wonder how he’s all yours. You hate to think about how he could have possibly felt disgusted by himself. If he wasn’t already yours in real life, he would be in your dreams, exactly as he is as he lays beneath you. 

It’s overwhelming. Feeling him again after so many weeks, the way his cock drives into you so deliciously, his sculpture-like body—you’re not sure what does it, probably a mixture of everything, but before you know it your pussy is clamping down on him and your entire body quivers with a wave of

“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby, I’m right with you,” he utters, staring at you as if you descended straight from Heaven.

“No,” you say, and your hips halt their bouncing, yet your fingers are still toying with your clit as you recover from your orgasm. 

Seungcheol whines at the cruelty of it.

“Not until you agree this body is sexy,” you say, teasing, grinding your hips painfully slowly along his cock—certainly not enough to keep up any kind of stimulation.

He gives a pained, exasperated laugh, and thinks fuck, he’s in love with you. He’s not sure what he’s done, maybe saved a life or two in a past life, but even that seems like it’s not enough for him to deserve you. 

The way your walls squeeze down on his cock makes his head spin. If he doesn’t cum soon he thinks he might die.

“It is, okay? I love this body. Now please, please, keep going,” he blurts out, stroking his hands up and down your thighs sweetly, pouting up at you so irresistibly.

“Say it’s sexy.”

He whines again, painfully desperate. His voice breaks when he repeats your words; “my body is sexy.”

You smile like a little minx when you start to bounce up and down him again, even harder this time. Seungcheol moans, such a gorgeous sound, and before long he’s grasping at your waist and pulling you flush against him as his cock throbs and he fills you up with spurts of his warm seed.

As he comes back down with heavy breaths, you pepper his neck and jawline with saccharine kisses. 

“I love you,” you say, relishing in the weight and warmth of his strong arms wrapped around your nude body, in the feeling of his soft yet firm torso that’s one with your own. “You’re perfect to me.”

[viiiiiiiiiin]

How they confess their love for you !! PT. 3

Includes: Nami , Law , Kid , Caesar , Ace , Sabo , Doflamingo , Rosinante.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3 (here)

Masterlist

Cat Burglar: Nami

She could tell , but she was good at hiding it. She felt like she didn't deserve you , so she never tried to make a move.

Until her feelings continuously grew and grew. She couldn't stand it.

Why did you make her feel like this ? You were so kind to her , but so was the rest of the crew. Why were you different ?

To her , you were special. She'd find herself looking at things in stores that she thinks you'd like.

One day , she brought one of those things to the Sunny after a big battle.

She was worried about losing you , but she knew you could handle yourself. But you got injured. Very , very injured. She was extremely worried because you've been out for days.

She came to your bedside and placed a jewel on the bedside. She sat on the bed next to your sleeping form and started talking to you as if you could hear.

Little did she know , her presence awoke you.

She told you how she felt and called you stupid for getting so hurt. While she was crying , you placed your bruised hand on her arm and told her you felt the same.

She was so surprised that she slapped you and started shaking you violently for worrying her.

Surgeon of Death: Trafalgar D. Water Law

At first , he thought something was wrong with him. He stayed up for nights on end trying tor research what could be wrong with him.

He looked up his symptoms in any book he could find. He knew a lot of illnesses because he was a doctor , but this was foreign to him. It worried him. Was it something like White Lead ?

He continues searching. Heated body (similar to a fever) , heart skipping beats irregularly , clammy hands , etc.

The only conclusion he could draw was the love sickness that any former Empress from Amazon Lily had.

But he wasn't an empress. Then , it clicked. He was in love. He wasn't sick , he was just LOVE sick. For you , no less.

He talked to Ikaku about how he felt and she squealed happily at his confession.

She bombarded him with advice , flowers , snacks , etc. She told him to just tell you.

When he gathered the courage , he did just that. He brought those flowers to your desk and waited for you. When you came in , the anxiety set in.

He cleared his throat and nervously confessed his feelings for you.

You laughed and told him you felt the same. He felt like a weight was lifted from his chest.

Eustass "Captain" Kid

Similarly to Law , he thought he was sick. He stayed in his office for DAYS , mostly to avoid you.

He thought you were sick too. How else did he feel sick around you ? You were contagious.

He told Killer about his sickness and he laughed his ass off at him.

Kid yelled at him and told him to stop , but he didn't.

When Killer calmed himself , he told Kid that he was a dumbass. That he wasn't sick , but in love.

Why would he be in LOVE ? THE Captain Kid !

He denied it and shooed Killer out.

But Killer pushed him to tell you. Every. Day.

Eventually , he caved.

When you brought him dinner , his mouth spewed out all he felt. He turned extremely red and angirly grumbled.

That was until you kissed his chin and told him you felt the same.

He turned even redder and shooed you out of his office.

Caesar Clown

He didn't actually understand why he fell in love with you. Was it your power ? Your looks ? Your influence ? He wasn't sure.

Everyone noticed. He would literally stumble around and make mistakes whenever you come around.

Monet teased him about it often. He shut down everything she said and would yell at her for even suggesting that he liked you.

He's had hookups and such before , but he's never fallen in love with any of his flings. He was a master scientist , why would he need love ?

But he fell for you.

Hard , actually.

He tried his best to avoid you but it never worked. You were stronger than him , so you had to protect him. That was your job.

While working in another part of his lab , Monet just straight up told you that he's in love with you.

You laughed and told her that you knew. You followed her to his current location , and you both told him what you conversed about.

He was embarrassed as hell and yelled at both of you.

He shooed Monet out and talked to you in private.

He , nervously , told you that it was true.

You told him you felt the same way and shocked the hell outta him.

Firefist: Portgas D. Ace

It was SO obvious to the entire crew.

He would become nervous and a blushing mess around you.

Even Whitebeard noticed.

Ace didn't , however.

He was never actually in love. He has had hookups , yes , but never a significant other. He didnt feel as if he deserved love.

But you made him feel like he did.

You were so sweet to him and would love him like he was your lover.

Marco , Thatch , and Izo would tease him about his little crush on you. Anytime they did , he denied it.

But Izo told you one day while you two were hanging out.

You told him that you felt the same way.

Izo and Thatch pushed you two together and got you both to confess in the kitchen

When you both confirmed that you were dating , the entire crew threw a party.

They just wanted an excuse to party. Sigh.

Flame Emperor: Sabo

Koala noticed before he did , but he noticed a bit after.

He chose not to act on it , however. He was too busy with the Revolutionary Army for a relationship.

But Koala was OBSESSED with the idea of you and him dating. She would continuously tell anyone who would listen about how much she shipped you and him.

She even told Dragon.

Dragon supports.

One day , Koala sets you two up in the kitchen of the current Revolutionary base.

She locks you both in there and leaves , waiting for you both to confess.

You confessed first because he wouldn't budge.

He told you he felt the same.

Hours after being locked in there , you both had fallen asleep together in the corner when Koala came to get you both.

She took pictures and showed them to Dragon.

Heavenly Demon: Donquixote Doflamingo

He knew he was obsessed with you. He always wanted you close , would kill anyone that was brave enough to confess to you , etc.

He's had many flings (men and women) , but he threw them away like they were toys.

But you were different to him.

You were headstrong , brave , and quite strong. It intrigued him.

How you held onto your dreams like they were part of the last meal you'd ever eat.

How you were so kind , even if he degraded you and hurt you.

You always came back.

One day , he called you to his throne room. While you sat in front of him , he offered you a place in the family as his Queen / King / Royal.

You weren't allowed to deny. If you said no , he would cut your head off. But you didn't even think of that.

You were in love with him too and told him so.

Now , you're the Queen / King / Royal of Dressrosa alongside your king , Doflamingo.

Corazon: Donquixote Rosinante

When you joined the Donquixote Family , he knew he had to get you out of there. Just like the children.

He normally wouldn't care about the others in the family because it wasn't his mission. However , your heart wasn't in the same place as theirs.

It intrigued him.

You were kind , smart , caring , and you took care of Baby 5 , Buffalo , and Law as if they were your own.

He immediately fell in love with you.

When taking Law away from Dressrosa , he took you with him and explained everything.

While Law slept on an island one day , he confessed his feelings to you by the fire he started.

He was red in the face and extremely nervous. He even lit himself on fire.

After dousing him in water , you told him you felt the same.

But smacked him and told him to be careful because he hurt himself.

[23victoria]

“P1 BABY!!”

lewis hamilton x wife!reader

wc: 1.2k

warnings: smut

authors note: HE FUCKING WONN!!! SO SO SO HAPPY FOR HIM!! IVE BEEN CRYING ALL DAY!! I LOVE HIM SO MICH HE DESERVES IT!! GOAT OF F1! ❤️

wanna be tagged in my works? CLICK HERE

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y/nhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, sza, georgerussell, mercedesamgf1, charlesleclerc, oscar piastri, and 4,444,444 others

P1 for my baby at Silverstone!!! I am beyond proud and amazed by this man everyday. His dedication, determination, grace, courage, and love for this sport and his fans is beautiful to see and experience! Thank you to the fans for all your support and love!! Seeing you guys out there today was beautiful! Such an emotional day for us all! I never gave up on him no matter how many times he gave up on himself, I believed in him and so did you. Today was proof that he is and will always be the Greatest Of All Time in F1! Lewis, I love you forever and always ❤️! Still We Rise!! 🙌🏾🫶🏾❤️🥹

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lewishamilton i love you so much my love 🫶🏾❤️

landonorris congrats to lewis!!

sebastianvettel goat! congrats lewis!! 🤍

hamazinglew so proud of him!!

username22 it’s been so long!!

username16 he was crying, i was crying, we all crode 🥹

username1 love you lewis!!

username9 lh44 forever!!

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You can hardly contain your excitement as you stand amidst the roaring crowd at Silverstone, the atmosphere electric with anticipation. The air vibrates with the sound of engines and the fervent cheers of fans, all eyes on the track. You’re right there in the thick of it, feeling every heartbeat, every surge of adrenaline as the race unfolds.

Lewis Hamilton, your hero, your partner, is in the lead. You clutch the edge of your seat, your breath hitching with every turn he takes. The final lap approaches, and the world seems to hold its breath. The finish line is in sight, and when Lewis crosses it, a wave of euphoria sweeps over the grandstands. He’s done it. He’s won!

Tears blur your vision as you leap to your feet, joining the chorus of ecstatic fans. The noise is deafening, but all you can think about is getting to him. You push through the crowd, your heart pounding in time with the chants of his name. When he steps out of the car, the expression on his face is pure joy.

You break into a run, the world around you a blur, and before you know it, you’re in his arms. He lifts you off your feet, holding you tight as both of you cry tears of happiness.

“I knew you could do it,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion. “You’re so talented, and this is just the beginning. There’s so much more to come.”

He kisses you deeply, and the world fades away until it’s just the two of you, lost in the moment. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling a surge of pride and love swell in your chest.

Lewis makes his way to the podium, and you watch him, your heart swelling with pride. The cheers of the crowd wash over you as he lifts the trophy, the culmination of all his hard work and dedication.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ☆ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

The evening finds you both at a club, the celebration in full swing. The music is loud, the lights are bright, and the energy is contagious. You dance and drink, savoring every moment. You’re surrounded by friends and fans, all celebrating Lewis’s incredible victory.

With a bottle of Almave in hand, you toast to the night, to the future, to love and success. The two of you dance like there’s no tomorrow, feeling the warmth and comfort of being together. The music fades into the background as you lose yourselves in the moment, simply enjoying being with one another

The celebration at the club has left you both exhilarated and slightly tipsy, the world a delightful blur of lights and music. Now, as you step into the quiet sanctity of your bedroom, the atmosphere shifts, becoming charged with a different kind of energy.

Lewis looks at you, his eyes dark with desire and affection. You smile, stepping closer to him, your fingers lightly grazing his arm. “Tonight is about you,” you whisper, your voice soft but filled with intent.

You begin with a slow, lingering kiss, your lips exploring his with a gentle but growing hunger. He responds in kind, his hands finding your waist, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat of his body through your clothes, the anticipation building with every heartbeat.

You guide him to the bed, your hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the taut muscles beneath. You lift the fabric, exposing his chest, and he helps you by raising his arms, letting you pull the shirt over his head. You take a moment to admire him, his skin gleaming in the soft light.

You push him gently onto the bed, straddling him. Your hands explore his body, fingers tracing the lines of his abs, the contours of his chest. You kiss your way down his neck, savoring the taste of his skin. He moans softly, his hands on your hips, guiding you closer.

Your lips continue their journey downward, kissing, licking, teasing. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you pause, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. He meets your gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of love and lust.

Slowly, you undo his belt, the sound of the buckle hitting the floor loud in the quiet room. You slide his pants down, revealing the growing bulge in his boxers. You kiss along the line of his hip, teasing him, making him wait. His breath hitches, his hands clenching the sheets.

Finally, you remove his boxers, freeing his cock. You take him in your hand, stroking him gently, your eyes never leaving his. You lean down, your lips brushing against the tip, tasting him. His reaction is immediate, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips.

You take your time, teasing him with your mouth, your tongue, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Just when he thinks he can’t take any more, you stop, moving back up to kiss him deeply.

“Please,” he whispers against your lips, his voice hoarse with need.

You smile, positioning yourself over him, guiding him inside you. The sensation is intense, both of you gasping as you begin to move together. The rhythm is slow at first, building gradually, each movement bringing you closer.

As the passion builds, he flips you over, positioning you on your stomach. His hands grip your hips, pulling you up so you're on your knees. You feel his fingers tangle in your hair, giving a gentle but firm tug as he thrusts into you from behind. The intensity of the angle makes you cry out in pleasure, the sensation overwhelming.

He continues to thrust in and out of you, the pace quickening, each movement more powerful than the last. You feel yourself tightening around him, the tension building as his name falls from your lips in a breathless moan. His grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back slightly, exposing the curve of your neck. He leans forward, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers words of love and desire.

Feeling the edge approaching, he slows down, pulling out and flipping you onto your back again. He positions himself between your legs, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder, deepening the angle. His eyes lock onto yours, the connection between you electric as he thrusts in and out of you.

The intensity is almost too much to bear, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing over you. You reach up, your hands gripping his arms, feeling the muscles tense and flex with each powerful thrust. The look in his eyes is one of pure adoration, mixed with a raw, primal desire that sends shivers down your spine.

“Lewis,” you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. “I’m so close.”

He responds with a deep, passionate kiss, his thrusts becoming faster, driving you both to the brink. The tension inside you finally snaps, your body arching as you come, a cry of ecstasy escaping your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Lewis follows moments later, his release spilling into you as he groans your name, his body shuddering with the force of his climax.

You collapse into each other, spent but utterly content. Your bodies are still tangled together, the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you both. You lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away, leaving just the two of you, basking in the warmth of your love and the triumph of the day.

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164

✿ .° • lewis taglist • °. ✿ : @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[godjo]

✮ — ptolemaea.

you poor thing sweet, mourning lamb there’s nothing you can do it’s already been done

tags — wriothesley x afab!reader. 4k wc. yandere. noncon. non-explicit smut with allusions to oral sex (both receiving), rough sex, creampie, doggy style. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni. 

from hunter — this is a repost. i listened religiously to ethel cain’s ptolemaea while writing this piece.  ✮

“step onto the platform, please.”

your stomach churns; what little you consumed that day threatens to spill from your mouth. there’s a continuous eddy in your mind, the headache affecting the strength of your bones. 

would you ever be prepared to face this kind of dilemma?

you have been given no chance to contemplate before the security in charge pushes the small of your back. you stagger towards the middle of the platform that will bring you down several feet underwater. as it starts to descend, you inhale whatever amount of fresh air you can, dreading that it’d probably take time before you could see the outside again. 

it’s just for a few months. all you have to do is endure your sentence, and you’ll be free. 

the air slowly turns scant the deeper you descend, as though you’re being submerged even in the absence of water. it doesn’t help that all you’ve seen so far is an endless stretch of metal, closing in on you, augmenting your anxiety. after what seems like forever, the elevator halts, hinting at your arrival, and there you struggle not to marvel at the magnificent view of the water outside. 

however, the security standing by your side tugs at your arm. another wave of nausea fills your throat with acid as the receptionist registers your information and recites the crime you’ve committed. sealing your fate as a prisoner is a quick mugshot before you’re brought to the administrative area. 

your wild eyes scan the area, noticing other newcomers lining up horizontally before a huge metallic door. they are stricken with the same anxiety as you, evident in how their throats are bobbing, their eyes burning holes in the ground.

“stand up straight. the duke is here,” the security announces as the gigantic door creaks open. 

“he’s here; we’re going to die,” the man beside you whispers in hysterics. 

his apprehension is a contagious disease, crawling to stick onto your skin, corrupting what little courage remains in your spine. 

your breath becomes strained and like everybody else, you’ve done your best to make your presence smaller. what is it about the duke that triggers this kind of paranoia?

“ah, here are the flock of lambs,” a strong voice dripping in confidence pronounces, causing the rest of the prisoners to shrink in size, as though all they’ve wanted is to disappear. “should i say ‘welcome’? or you’d rather we skip the pleasantries and go straight to business?”

looking at him now, you understand why the mere mention of his name evokes such palpable horror. he’s a man of tall stature and rough demeanor. his hair, unkempt yet strangely glossy, adds to the unnatural charm he possesses. it’s dark like a raven’s feathers, interspersed with strands of gray that somehow enhance his roguish appearance. 

he starts his scrutiny at the other end of the line, saving you for last. as he scans the prisoners, his mouth remains in a tight line, with an occasional cock of the brow or twitch of the lips. 

“and for the last one…” his tone tilts between authority and mischief, leaving no room for defiance. 

your heart hammers against your ribs, but fear holds your gaze down. mentally cursing yourself for potentially igniting the duke’s ire, you flinch when his warm fingers swiftly lift your chin. 

you suck in a sharp breath, expecting to be greeted by annoyance. what’s painted on his face is an expression you cannot quite name. his pale gray eyes are blown wide, penetrating you straight to the soul. lips slightly agape, he displays an image of someone utterly surprised. it hasn’t taken long for colors to flood his face again, delivered by his conscious recognition of the prisoners’ gawking stares. 

the duke clears his throat, summoning back his menacing aura. he motions for the nearest securities, instructing that they discuss the rules and send the prisoners to their respective bunkers. 

however, he finds your eyes again just as you’re preparing to follow the throng. 

“you. follow me,” declares the duke. 

it couldn’t have been anyone else, even though you turn around to see if he’s speaking to someone other than you. realizing the weight of the command, your heart lurches in your throat. how much anxiety can you handle for a day? and what could possibly compel him to seek a private audience with you?

behind the gargantuan doors, you find yourself yet again inside an unsettling chamber. the aged yet robust metal dominates the space, boasting the formidable reputation of the fortress of meropide. once or twice you have envisioned yourself barred in this place, courtesy of your way of living, but nothing can size up the fear of being here in flesh and bone. 

“i’m over here,” the duke echoes from above.

cut away from your reverie, you ascend the stairs upwards to the third level. the metal sculptures of three-headed wolves catch your eye, their craftsmanship a marvel, set amidst numerous bookshelves filled with various genres. in the center of the room sits a spacious table piled with papers, while another stands to your right, equally laden with documents.

“you’re probably wondering why you’re here,” he begins, reclining the back of his lower body against the table, strong arms crossed over his chest. “don’t worry, i’m not gonna hurt you. i’d merely like to ask you a few questions.”

through your parched throat, you respond, “ask away, your… your grace.”

to your surprise, the duke’s shoulders shake as his mouth echoes a merry laughter. 

“c’mon! loosen up. don’t you remember who i am?” he asks in between full-throated chuckles. “have i changed that drastically?” 

don’t you remember who i am? 

now that he’s mentioned it, there’s a wriggling part of your brain that finds him familiar. however, try as you might to fish for a particular memory involving him, you can only grasp at nothing. he remains just a figure you likely crossed paths with on a street somewhere.

“i… i can’t remember—”

he spreads his arms in glee, closing the distance between you without respect for personal space. large hands capture your shoulders, then, shaking you with undeniable enthusiasm. 

“it’s me! wriothesley! the boy from the orphanage. remember?”

memories flood your mind: blurred recollections of a boy with raven-like hair and pale gray eyes, scenes of a brawl in the yard where his fists repeatedly struck another orphan’s jaw. more images rush in: him behind bars, and you offering a piece of bread to his bloodied hands.

“wrio? is that really you?” you ask breathlessly. your hands have found their way on his shoulders, too. 

“yes, it’s me! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? how are you?” he looks like he’d seen a ghost, but there’s no trickle of terror in the planes of his face. only wonderment and utter euphoria. before you can respond, he raises a finger and dialed the nearest telephone, commanding whoever is at the end of the line to bring refreshments inside his office. 

he leads the both of you to the lone sofa before repeating his question. 

“well i… i tried to get by after the adoption,” you tell him, pursing your lips at the memory. “it wasn’t so dreadful, being in that house, but i wouldn’t claim that it had been easy. how about you?” your eyes wander at the expanse of the room. “you govern the fortress now? what even happened to you?” 

wriothesley’s lips stretch to a smile. “yeah. who would’ve thought that a rascal like me can do it, right?”

you playfully punch his shoulder. “you’ve always had that command in you, wrio. even when we were in the orphanage. you stood tall and lived by your principles. no wonder papa and mama liked you so much back then. speaking of which, do you know where they are now?” 

after your adoption, you haven’t had the ability to contact the orphanage and ask about everyone’s well-being. since you have been living by scraps, you’ve focused instead on surviving without any spare time to visit the orphanage. 

“papa and mama, huh?” an overcast went over his eyes. his words have a bite to them that you cannot decipher. when he looks back at you, there’s a cloud on his face as he mutters, “i killed them.”

the confession immediately turns your veins cold. he looks dead serious.

“what?” a nervous chuckle reverberates from you. “that’s a bad joke.”

his eyes are the most unsettling gray you have ever witnessed. 

“i know you haven’t had the best experience with your adoptive parents. none of the adopted children had. papa and mama took care of us, just so they could sell us. do you know that some of the children even died after being adopted? i did the right thing killing those fuckers,” he confesses without a trace of remorse for the gravity of what he’s done.

this is too much to take in one sitting. your head throbs again with a new intensity. perhaps it’s the years that you’ve been gone that exacerbates his revelation. you vividly recall the day you parted ways with the orphanage owner, tears in their eyes as they reluctantly let you go to your new foster parents. it was a poignant farewell, etched as your last memory of them. now you wonder, was it all a facade?

before you can bombard him with a set of questions, the arrival of refreshments completely dismisses the whole tête-à-tête. the security who’s placed the glasses on the table bestows you a questioning look; one that you would’ve missed had you the heart meet wriothesley’s gaze. through his dubious disposition, you realize how bizarre the scene might have looked like for an outsider. 

wriothesley overlooks the whole fortress, and you are a prisoner meant to serve your time. why are you drinking with the duke?

shame has found its way to settle in the pit of your stomach. you feel self-conscious about your appearance; a full day without bathing since your capture is not how you wished to present yourself to your old acquaintance. he’s climbed his way up as one of the authorities in fontaine, while you remain at the bottom of the food chain. things are not the same. 

“i should probably go to my bunker,” you voice after the security’s departure. “it doesn’t look good that you have a prisoner here.”

“nonsense,” wriothesley counters. “you’re not a stranger. and i don’t care whatever crime you’ve committed on the surface: you are my visitor here.”

you shake your head. despite the multiple stealing you’ve done until now, you still harbor a sense of dignity. it’s just as they say: you do the crime, you do the time. 

“no, wrio. i’m here as a prisoner. i’ll do whatever is required of me. it’s my punishment.” 

wriothesley sighs in defeat; an action you haven’t expected to come easily from him. 

“alright, then. you win.” he reaches for your hand and grasps. “you won’t deny me the occasional meals, though? you’re still my friend and it’s the least i could do for you.”

that marks the highlight of your first day inside the fortress. 

never in your wildest dreams could you have anticipated such a twist of fate, yet you can’t deny the comfort of seeing a familiar face in this bleak environment.

as the days of your imprisonment tick by, you’ve adapted to the routine within the prison walls. you’ve learned the importance of coupons and how to obtain them to survive. unlike most inmates who are tasked with heavy labor, you find yourself often idle. this is not due to any sloth on your part, as you’re eager to earn your keep, but it would seem as though the rest of the administrators have no job to assign you. which is peculiar in a sense that everybody has something on their hands. 

“how are you coping?” wriothesley asks during lunch. it’s one of those days when he’d summon you to eat with him. 

you fork the food on your plate, too conscious to wolf them down. the cafeteria’s open layout exposes the generous hospitality being extended to you, making you acutely aware of the conspicuous display. somehow, it gets to your skin, as though you have no more face to save. 

“everybody’s nice,” you reveal. they really are; there’s no lie in the statement. truth be told, the fortress is like a community where you work and earn a living. however, by definition, it remains a huge cage for wrongdoers like you. “but i can’t wait to go out.”

the cafeteria holds its breath when wrio’s utensils clatter against his plate. eyes turn towards your table, speculation rife that an argument is brewing. you glance around nervously, aware of the attention drawn by his prolonged silence.

“a… are you alright?” you stammer. 

“yeah,” he answers before lifting his head and displaying a smile that does not reach the eyes. “there was a weird taste in my mouth. what were you saying again?”

“oh… forget it,” you answer, wanting to dismiss the whole conversation as quickly as possible. “it’s nothing important.”

“i thought so,” he whispers without erasing his uncanny smile. 

at first, you conjectured that the source of wriothesley’s hospitality stemmed from his time at the orphanage, when he was punished for misconduct. unaware of the rules as a newcomer, and traumatized by the sudden upheaval in his life, he was quick to lash at the other kids. there had been a time that he would’ve beaten another orphan to death had no one interfered. it was only by the grace of the owners that he wasn’t kicked out.

in contrast, you had strived to keep a low profile during your orphanage days, knowing that well-behaved children stood a better chance of adoption. only once did you veer to the path of disobedience, and that had been the time when you stole bread for wriothesley. 

that first and last encounter had been brief and quickly forgotten over time, only resurfacing now upon your unexpected reunion.

you wouldn’t have expected that such a simple act of charity would help you tremendously during your life’s biggest disaster.

from the bottom of your heart, you acknowledge that life in meropide would have been harder without him. the depth of your gratitude for his companionship transcends words. and you swear by all the archons, you appreciate all that he’s done for you. 

that’s why it doesn’t make you feel good— not at all — to betray such munificence with doubt and a feeling of disquiet. 

have you gone paranoid? can you trust your guts? or are you simply unaccustomed to kindness?

but it’s not any of those things, is it? 

you wrestle with the idea that your paranoia might be justified. there’s validity in a way that your heart hasn’t been tranquil ever since the repudiation of your release. such holdup hinges on your distant aunt’s failure to communicate with the administrators of the prison. they refuse to issue your release without her signature. 

at first, you dismissed the dreadful news with masked disappointment. she lives miles away from the fortress. a little patience is all you need. yet, the absurdity gnaws at you—why should an orphaned adult still require the consent of a relative who never cared? 

for months you mingled with the rest of the prisoners without trouble. what harm could a few more days bring? and it would’ve been easy except for one thing. 

together with the anticipation of freedom there springs wriothesley’s unnatural behavior. certainly, you have been accustomed to his magnanimous nature, but not to his seemingly obsessed disposition. 

for one, he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. on the night before your release, you’ve woken up just to see him inside your bunker, sitting with arms hugging his knees at the edge of your bed, head tilted downward. the pounding of your heart drowned out all other sounds, making sleep elusive and confrontation daunting. convinced he would offer an explanation in due time, you pretended that nothing happened the next day. 

how many times has he sat there, barging in your bunker unannounced while guarding your sleep? you shudder at the thought. but it’s time you put an end to your suspicions. it’s time that you go up there, in his office, and find the answers you seek. 

“i’m sorry, but as per the duke’s order, no one is allowed inside until his return,” the security standing guard outside wriothesley’s office announces. 

“i told you; i was ordered to clean his office,” you insist for what seems like the thousandth time. of course, it’s a lie. however, you are not going to pass up the opportunity of sleuthing, especially with wriothesley’s absence. 

“the answer is no. it’s a strict rule from the duke himself,” he repeats. 

you swallow the bitter reality of what you’re about to do. you have never thought of weaponizing wriothesley’s treatment of you, but he leaves you with no choice.

“so, if he comes back and finds his office in disarray, i only need to mention that a certain guard wouldn’t let me in, right?” at your words, the security blinks frantically. “do you know how much wrio favors me? or do you need proof? but i’m telling you, right now: the proof wouldn’t be as pleasant for you.”

as you stand inside the room, your eyes sweep across its vast expanse, searching without a clear idea of what evidence you seek. yet, an instinctive feeling drives you—the conviction that the reason behind the prolonged delay of your release lies hidden somewhere within these walls. relying on your years of stealth and skill as a thief, your confidence grows in your ability to navigate this risky venture unscathed.

this is a bold move, facing potential consequences, and you know better than to underestimate wriothesley.

to summon a leveled head, you breathe, in and out, while fishing for the lock pick tucked inside your back pocket. 

you waste no time climbing the stairs to his desk. all proceedings certainly go through him before anyone else. perhaps you can find your release paper, already signed, among this endless heap of legal documents.

no, if he intends to keep it, he wouldn’t have it openly displayed. though the reasons for wriothesley’s denial of your freedom elude you, instinct alone guides your courage. abandoning your sleuth, you move on to open the drawers instead. beads of sweat dots your forehead, heart refusing to calm down as the lock pick you fashioned from a scrap metal jammed into the keyhole.

there’s nothing inside but another stack of paper containing the fortress’ mundane transactions. the weight of uncertainty bears down upon you like a relentless specter, your eyes flickering towards the staircase with a mix of fear and urgency. moored by the bookshelves, you grasp a volume, its hard cover yielding warmth against your palm. pages are turned in rapid succession, driven by your inexorable desperation to find something.

it has to be here. it has to be. 

“where is it? where is it? where is it?”

quick! where else would he keep it? think, think, think! 

“found what you’re looking for?”

hearing his voice feels as though you’ve pummeled down from the steepest cliff; that your innards have been hammered to smithereens; that your heart has been taken right from your ribcage. your veins turn to ice, knees threatening to buckle beneath you. 

“w… wrio…” you frenziedly grapple for reasons; anything that’d validate your suspicious presence in his office. “i was… i was just tidying up the space.”

“for what?” his eyes roam around the room that looks rather polished before settling on the book you clutch in your hands. “i didn’t know you’re interested in gardening.”

taking a gander at the book in your hands, you force a sheepish smile upon seeing its title. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine.

“if it’s not too much to ask, i’d like to borrow this book.” you steel your facade, refusing to give him an inch. it’s futile, knowing you’re crumbling inside, wishing to vanish into thin air to evade his palpable vexation.

“you see…” wriothesley begins, licking the inside of his cheek. “as far as i can remember, i told the guards not to let anyone in.”

you open your mouth to speak, but the grievous solemnity of his demeanor stops your words.  

“what are you doing here?”

“i told you, i was just—”

“what are you doing here?”

he already knows the answer; you just have to say it. like a feeble insect trapped in a spider’s web, you see no chances of escaping. the only thing you could do is to shackle your suspicions and hope that wriothesley somehow disproves them. 

“i was wondering about my release. it has been days and i…”

“grow suspicious of me?” he finishes. “thinking that i have something to do with it?” 

each step he takes brings your back closer to the bookshelves. until he has you trapped with his overwhelming presence. he’s so close you can smell a whiff of his perfume; even that exudes his unquestionable authority. 

“i just want to know the truth,” is your helpless whisper. you feel like a little lamb caught between the sharp claws of the wolf. 

with one hand, he takes the book from your hands, eyes never leaving your face, as he places it back to where it belongs. 

“oh, you’d never like it,” he divulges. 

mustering up the courage to flee from his entrapment, the thorns in your throat intensified after putting all your might to push him away only to suffer in vain. 

“please, wrio, let me go,” you huff, fighting back tears. 

your plea goes through deaf ears. not even a sliver of interest or acknowledgment can be seen in the depths of his eyes. 

“your aunt and her whole family left fontaine before she had to sign your papers. i had my men standing guard on her house just in case she comes back, but it’d seem she’s sold the whole lot to never come back,” he discloses. 

“what?” all the remaining hope stings you like betrayal. but of course, you should’ve expected less from a relative you’ve never even met before. 

wriothesley relaxes, but his body remains as overpowering before you. 

“i know what it feels like to not have someone, that’s why i didn’t know how to tell you,” he says, each word threaded carefully as if he refuses to shatter the delicate thing in front of him any further. 

to think that you’ve doubted him despite his keen interest in your well-being is more than enough to cause you unutterable shame. 

“i’m sorry, wrio. i… i didn’t know,” you admit shamefully. 

hand on his hip, he sighs, “i just can’t understand. after everything i’ve done for you, this is what i get in return?”

panic grips you in its cruel embrace. you shake your head, reaching for him. 

“it’s not my intention to hurt nor dismiss your kindness, i swear. i just… i’ll make it up to you.”

wriothesley perks up at the statement. it’s eerily noticeable how his grim bearing changes to that of a curious one. “you’ll do anything, then?” 

what accursed territory have you placed yourself in?

“anything.”

“then, kneel,” he commands after a heartbeat. 

there are two directions where your obedience can possibly turn to, and yet both choices cause your stomach to double over. in spite of your fear, you’ve acknowledged with terror that the point of return has already been barred. your knees buckle. 

fat tears dot the corner of your eyes, like crystal jewels of insurmountable value, as he unravels himself, and you take him in your mouth. he moves at first with delicacy, as though he fears of shattering such bliss. the warm flesh of your mouth, velvet-soft around him. you’re raw from shame; he’s rawed out from pleasure. 

diabolical desire urges that he push himself deeper, further, make you gag with guilt and watch your mouth reach him to the hilt. like dust of stars, tears now cling to your lashes, as your lips harvest the seed of his gluttony. 

in rapid succession he buries himself down your throat, reaching places no one else has trespassed in. your nails carve crescent moons on his pale skin, roguish marks to prove the existence of a fight, no matter how pathetic. 

he hungers, and hungers, and hungers. until his bones ached from his greed, and pleasure carves the pinnacle of release. beneath the ache in his incessant breath, he wells inside your mouth. when all sensibility has left, he taints your tongue with rife and thick globules, begging to be swallowed. 

tenderly he holds you, like his touches can heal your rotten sinews. at the end of his fingertips, your skin burns and he sinks you deeper into his pit. this place drowns in sweltering heat, from the shame, from the pain, from the guilt. the planes of your back settle on the oak table, etching the tale of his devouring. he peels you open with every lick; a fruit he wouldn’t mind the consequences of eating.

what is this, you think, the betrayal of the body? you despair how you shiver from his tongue; how you reek of humiliation when his fingers push into your dripping flesh. fog over your head, the clouds somber, the cruel zenith warm on your stomach, exploding in shades of red. since when did pleasure and poison start tasting the same?

“on your stomach,” he whispers, eyes dilated with barbarism.

the hunger continues. another triumph, another defeat. fingernails raking the wood, another tale of wrath unheard, of innocence gone. he lodges between your legs, pushing himself through the fluttering folds, tarnishing the flesh. your throat burns but you will not scream. 

he fucks you with absolute abandon. he fucks you with an appetite of a man deprived. 

lips between your teeth, crimson trails down your chin. he wants to turn your insides into pulp; to rattle both your bones and knit them together. with increasing greed, his movement turns rabid. your eyes glossy, your tears silent, as you swallow the vile reality of fulfilling his need. 

“i’m so close,” he grunts, the sound of his voice coming from deep within. 

your silence is a rebellion against your traitorous body. shrouded with mortification, you flare around his length, and he revels at the feeling. he concedes to the tight sensation, spilling every fiber of his being inside the warmth of your flesh. there’s too much of him inside you, that he leaks like liquid ivory from the wet and abused hole, trailing languorously between your shaking legs. 

you run to the abyss, to the sweet caress of sleep, hoping that once you wake up, you’re whole again. 

wriothesley observed your countenance as you slept upon the couch, noting with curiosity the weariness etched upon your features even in repose. he gently draws the silk sheet to cover you fully, then rises from his seat. proceeding to the telephone, he summons a meal, foreseeing your imminent awakening and the hunger it will bring.

now, he proceeds to one of the bookshelves, retrieving a particular book. a comprehensive guide in gardening across different topographies in fontaine. to think that you’ve been this close to knowing the truth. 

he opens the book, flipping through its final pages until he locates the concealed folded paper. despite the creases marring its surface, the parchment appears new. unfolding it has given him a sense of relief, like an anchor to his sanity. 

it reveals the deed to your aunt’s estate, which he acquired shortly before your release. now, the elderly woman resides a great distance away, forever barred from returning.

they would be foolish to return, especially with their lives at stake.

wriothesley’s lips curl in a bitter twist. believe him when he says he never intended for you to endure the same fate as he did. yet, endure it you must, just as he once did, for he is not so benevolent as to set you free.

[congregenturanimarum]

[lalunanymph]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐘 — miya osamu

based off this thought i had about atsumu unintentionally hooking his twin up with his future wife skibidi doo bap

I'm g'na kill him when I catch him, Osamu thinks, already coming up with a sure-fire plan to wipe his twin off the face of the earth for humiliating him like this.

And then, I'll go back in time and absorb him from the womb.

Usually, he could take whatever bullshit Tsumu threw his way—but this time, the star setter had gone too far.

Osamu literally feels like he's going to die; hands clammy and mind spinning in circles when he sees your confused expression, his number on a scrap of paper dangling uselessly in between his lax fingers.

"I... I'm sorry, Miya-san. I think you misunderstood..."

Your eyelashes flutter against your cheekbones, pearly white teeth digging into your lower lip as you chew on it in anxiety.

Thank fuck it's almost closing time and none of his regulars are here to see him fumble this badly.

He blinks, retracts his hand, and number with a forced smile, even when he feels like turning around and strangling his brother, who is, of course, dying of silent laughter in the kitchen.

"Ah." He scratches the back of his head, pink dusting apparent on his boyishly handsome face. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position, L/N-san."

Osamu struggles to control his cresting shame, forcing a smile.

"Let me make you a house special as an apology for my forwardness. I'm truly am sorry for putting you in this position."

Before he could turn and retreat back into the kitchen with his tail tuck in between his legs, you call out a high-pitched, "Wait!"

He turns, and doesn't expect your face to warm, eyes darting to the clean counter as you tap your white-painted nails on the lacquered wood.

"Wh-what did the cashier actually tell you, Miya-san?"

"The cashier?"

You nod. "The blonde man. Kinda looks like you. I told him to send the chef my compliments but I think he must've given you a different impression."

Oh. Tsumu.

Osamu tries to grin without baring his teeth too much, and as if knowing his bluff was exposed, Atsumu chokes back his chortles, ducking into the kitchen to hide.

"Ah," Osamu kisses his teeth. He debates not telling you the truth, but since he's already made an ass of himself, he might as well commit to the schtick. "Said to me a babe told him to tell me she thinks I'm hot. S'all."

If it was possible, your face warms even more.

"O-oh. Well... he isn't wrong."

"Yeah, he was really out of line with that—wait, what?"

Osamu backtracks, unsure if he's heard you right.

Your mortification is contagious, especially when you duck your head again and mumble: "He's not wrong, Miya-san." Now, it's your turn to be forward and courageous. "I... I think you're really cute."

The black shirt he has on stretches across his broad pecs, highlighting his muscular build and those deliciously impressive biceps and traps. A simple cap the same color hides his dark hair, and even under the fluorescent lights, no one could deny how much of a looker Miya Osamu is.

Right now, he has a choice: flounder and fumble you, or, take this chance to ask you out.

While he malfunctions with indecision, you remove the burden of choosing from him, reaching forward to grab his number written hastily on a scrap of paper with a small smile.

Still shy, both of you couldn't look the other in the eye, the implications of your actions giving Osamu whiplash.

"O-okay, uh, thanks," his deep, baritone takes on a shade of embarrassment.

In your sundress and pretty smile, you take his breath away as you stand, tucking his number right into your small purse.

"I'll call you then, Miya-san. See you soon."

The second the door closes behind your retreating figure, Atsumu's grating voice pierces through the daze in Osamu's mind like nails running down chalkboard, his face peeking from behind the kitchen door.

"Damn, I can't believe that worked. See Samu? S'wasn't so bad, huh? You finally got a date and I can get you out of this kitch—h-hey Samu—hey! S-Stop—stop chasing me!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 🎀 dawn says: haikyuu debut lessgoooo .... rbs and love are very much appreciated <3

©️ intellectual property of lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, claim as your own or change up the sentence structures and characters

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗠𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N and Matt love each other, but don't seem to have the courage to declare themselves; OR, where Matt belongs to Y/N but can't seem to understand it.

WARNING: Crying, unrequited love, angst (with a happy ending).

REQUESTED?: Yes, by @freshsturns

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was a typical fall morning in Boston, with golden leaves dancing in the wind and the fresh scent of coffee wafting through the air. Y/N walked down the familiar street, her steps synchronized with the rapid beat of her heart, her mind full of possibilities of how to break the news; she would spend three months at her father's house, as her mother needed to travel for work continuously during that short period.

Her eyes fell on the Sturniolo's house, where the triplets, Matt, Nick, and Chris, had lived since they were teenagers.

A mixture of feelings invaded her whenever she passed by.

She and the triplets have been inseparable since childhood. They grew up together, shared secrets, laughs, and unforgettable moments. But there was something deeper between Y/N and Matt, something she held deep in her heart and feared revealing.

Matt was the middle brother out of the three, with his dark hair and piercing dead blue eyes that seemed to read her soul. He was Y/N's confidant, the one with whom she shared her most intimate dreams and her deepest fears. But there was a secret she never dared to confess: her love for him.

As Y/N walked towards the Sturniolo's house, she felt her heart beating wildly. She knew she would see Matt soon, and that thought made her nervous and excited at the same time. They saw each other every day, but each meeting was like a new chapter in an endless book.

Upon entering the cozy home, Y/N was greeted with warm smiles and affectionate hugs from Jimmy and Mary Lou. Matt, with his captivating gaze and worn-out jeans, stared at her eyes for a brief moment. A shiver ran down Y/N's spine, but she quickly looked away, fearing he might read her feelings in her gaze.

Throughout that day, Y/N and Matt shared conversations like they always did while spending time together, lost in their own bubble of happiness. The sound of their laughter echoed through the cold streets, filling the air with a contagious energy, enjoying the last minutes together before the girl had to go far away.

Matt's hair was messed up by the wind, attracting her attention, who glanced at him, lost in her thoughts. She wondered if he could hear her frantic heartbeat every time he smiled when his hair got in his mouth.

But there was a palpable tension between the two, an invisible elephant in the room that neither dared to address.

At night, when Y/N finally returned home, she sat on her bed and let the tears fall silently while preparing herself to pack her bags. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess her feelings to Matt or if she would continue hiding them forever.

Meanwhile, across the street, Matt was lying in his own bed, lost in thoughts about Y/N. He wondered if she could ever feel the same way about him. If she could look at him with the same love-filled eyes that he always cast her way. But the fear of ruining their friendship prevented him from taking any action.

Thus, the two friends remained trapped in a painful impasse, their hearts connected by invisible strings that neither of them dared to break.

Y/N hoped that the next three months would do something good for her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Time had passed too fast, and soon, Y/N was back in Boston. The sun shone high in the summer sky as the girl left her house that morning, leaving her unopened suitcase to organize later, the birds chirped happily along with the frantic beats of her heart, yearning to see her best friends again.

For some reason, she knew something was different, that something had changed, but she wasn't prepared for what she would find when she met with him that afternoon.

Upon arriving at the brothers' house, Y/N was greeted by a strange silence, even with the cheerful voice of Mary Lou - who greeted her happily at the front door.

Y/N quickly found Matt sitting on the couch, next to a blonde girl, with long straight hair and an artificial smile on her lips. She was the complete opposite of Y/N in every possible way.

She felt a pang of discomfort when she saw Matt so close to that girl, her heart clenching when she noticed the brunette's arm around her shoulders, knowing the inevitable; Matt had met his perfect - or not - match.

She tried to push those feelings away and tried to convince herself that she was happy for him, but the truth was that a wave of sadness washed over her and found home in her heart.

Matt's new girlfriend, who introduced herself as Tiffany, looked at Y/N with a look of superiority, as if she was sizing her up and down. She emanated an aura of arrogance and pretension that made Y/N feel out of place and inadequate almost instantly.

Her slender and tall body was shaped by a mini skirt and a tank top that hugged her tiny waist perfectly, her feet covered in sparkling high heels - too much for a normal day in Boston -, Y/N feeling suddenly uncomfortable about the large t-shirt that covered her entire upper body.

As she watched Matt and Tiffany together, Y/N felt a tumultuous mix of emotions. The sounds of the video game coming from the television and Nick and Chris' excited screams echoing muffledly into her ears as she noticed how Matt hadn't looked directly at her eyes, not even once.

She wondered if he had really forgotten her so easily, if their friendship no longer meant anything to him. She felt betrayed and abandoned, as if a piece of her heart had been ripped out without warning.

As the day progressed, Y/N tried to keep herself occupied with the other two brothers, trying to push away the painful thoughts that threatened to consume her. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the vision of Matt and Tiffany together, acting like they were the perfect couple.

She was so different from what Y/N imagined Matt's type to be.

When it was finally time to go home, Y/N said goodbye to Matt with a forced smile on her lips. She tried to hide the pain in her eyes, trying to appear indifferent to the fact that he had found someone new. But deep down, she knew that it had changed everything between them both, and nothing would ever be the same as it was.

As she walked home, Y/N felt tears streaming down her face. She felt lost and confused, not knowing how to deal with the new reality that was opening up before her.

She wondered if Matt would ever see that she was the right girl for him, that he belonged with her.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was buzzing with the sound of excited voices and cutlery clattering against plates. Matt, Y/N, Nick, and Chris were sitting at a table in the corner, enjoying a quiet lunch together after weeks of not hanging out as a group.

"Matt, can we talk?" Y/N began as she noticed Chris and Nick immersed in a random topic. Her voice was soft but filled with concern, her eyes trying to decipher the storm of emotions that seemed to cross the brunette's face.

"Of course, Y/N. What do you want to talk about?" Matt nodded, his gaze meeting hers momentarily, before lowering it back to his plate, a fake smile resting on his face.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling.

"I couldn't help but notice how things have changed between us lately. Ever since you started... dating Tiffany, it seems like we're more distant."

"I know, Y/N. I'm sorry that I've been distant. It's just... Tiffany is complicated. She's very different from... Well, it doesn't matter." Matt spoke in a low tone, looking embarrassed as his hands nervously played with the metal cutlery.

Before Y/N could respond, Matt's phone started ringing, interrupting the conversation, and catching the attention of Nick and Chris, who stopped what they were saying and looked at them with interest. Matt huffed out an apology before looking at his cell screen, frowning as he read Tiffany's flashing name.

"Sorry, Y/N. I really need to take this." Matt said, quickly getting up from the table and taking a few steps away to answer the call, ignoring the worried looks his brothers were sending him.

Y/N watched as Matt spoke on the phone, his face tense and worried. She could hear Tiffany's muffled screams on the other end of the line, and a knot formed in her stomach as she realized the argument was about her, her name escaping the boy's lips more times than expected.

She could feel Nick and Chris's gazes burning into the side of her head, and she knew they wanted to say something, but her attention was too focused on Matt to try and get information out of the pair.

As the argument continued, Y/N observed in detail Matt's reactions, the lines of tension on his t the clenched fists at his side. She could feel the anguish he was experiencing.

When Matt finally hung up the phone, he returned to the table with a tired look in his eyes, his teeth biting down hard on his bottom lip, as if he was in an internal struggle between what to do and what not to do. He looked at Y/N, as if he was about to say something, but then looked away, unable to find the words.

Y/N quickly reached out to touch his hand, a small show of silent support, a frown full of worry taking her expression.

"Matt, hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just..." Matt nodded, a weak smile playing on his lips, the same one that Y/N saw every day since he started dating Tiffany, but so different from the one that was directed to her three months before. "I just need to sort some things out with Tiffany." He cleared his throat quickly, tearing his eyes away from her and focusing them on his brothers. "Can you guys keep going without me? I really need to go."

"If I say no, it won't change what you think, so do whatever you want, Matt." Chris shrugged, his gaze rigid like never seen before by Y/N.

She tried to meet Nick's eyes, searching for some kind of explanation, but all she saw was sadness and worry.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Night was falling over Boston when Matt left Tiffany's house, his heart heavy and his mind turbulent. The rain, like a perfect background actor, fell in torrents, mixing with the tears that ran down his face as he walked aimlessly through the wet streets, having left his car in the hands of Chris - the one who knew most about driving after himself.

The boy allowed his feet to take him where they wanted to go, his vision blurred, and his mind too confused to decide anything at that moment, his heart screaming for refuge.

And that's how he found himself standing in front of Y/N's house, his safe haven in the midst of the storm that had been his life since he could remember.

With a heavy heart, the brunette walked to the side wall outside of the two-story house, his blue eyes only seeing the window that he already knew very well. Agilely, Matt quickly climbed the expanse of concrete, the lighting from the girl's room helping and guiding him.

The sound of light knocks against the closed glass echoed through the room, and it was and understandment to say that Y/N was surprised to see Matt outside her room, hanging from her window, drenched from the rain and with eyes red from crying.

The girl quickly shot up from her seat on her pretty made-up bed, running towards him and opening the window in seconds, her hands working on pulling him inside the cozy and warm room, wrapping him in a comforting hug, ignoring the feeling of his wet clothes against her dry and warm pajamas.

"Matt, what happened? Why are you here like this? What...?" Y/N asked frantically, worried. She pulled back a few inches, rubbing her left hand over Matt's cold arm, while her right worked on brushing away the soggy strands of hair that stuck to his forehead and cheeks.

"I broke up with Tiffany." His voice sounded choked and hoarse from crying, his lips trembling without a pause. "I finally realized how toxic she was being, and I couldn't go on like this anymore. I didn't-" A sob broke through his throat, his eyes closing tightly as his hands gripped Y/N's bent elbow, seeking some stability.

Y/N watched him with compassion, stroking the cold skin of his face gently with the tip of her right fingers. She felt like screaming from seeing him in such a state, her heart hurting as if someone was squeezing it with their bare hands.

She wondered how he couldn't see that she was the right one for him, not Tiffany. She knew all his favorite songs, the movies he loved, the places he dreamed of visiting. She was the only one who truly understood him, who knew his deepest dreams, fears, and hopes.

Over the years, Y/N has been by Matt's side through every important moment in his life. She watched him grow, face challenges, and overcome obstacles. She was the person he went to in the middle of the night when he needed someone to talk to, the voice that made him laugh when he was about to cry.

And yet, even with all this intimacy and deep connection, Matt didn't seem to realize what was right in front of him. He continued to seek love and validation elsewhere, ignoring the fact that Y/N was always there, waiting for him with an open heart.

And because of that, he got hurt. Again.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry. Come here, sweet boy." Y/N asked in a gentle whisper, guiding him to her bed in slow steps.

"N-no, I'm going to wet your whole bed." Matt muttered between sniffles, his right hand gripping her arm gently while his left one rubbed his eyes angrily, trying to stop the tears from continuing to flow.

"It's okay, I don't mind, honey." The girl insisted, helping him sit on the edge of the mattress next to her pillow while moving his hand away from his face, preventing him from hurting himself. "Stay here, I'll go get a towel. I think I still have some of your clothes too."

While Matt vented between sobs about his problematic relationship with Tiffany, Y/N listened attentively, moving around the room behind her hairdryer, clean towels and pieces of clothing that the brunette had left there when he visited her house.

She could feel the pain and anguish he was feeling, and she was determined to be there for him, no matter how much her heart burned to see him suffer for another girl.

The girl quickly found everything she needed, beginning the task of wiping Matt's wet, dark hair with the fluffy towel and wiping away the raindrops from his skin, her body standing stiffly between the boy's legs, being careful not to cross any barrier he had placed between the two of them.

As Matt spoke and Y/N advised him, she could feel his blue eyes fixed on her face, his hands too close to her legs as she finished drying him, feeling her cheeks burn like fire, knowing for sure that they were as red as the color itself.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you." Matt whispered, his tone low - as if he didn't want to burst the bubble that seemed to surround them - but still echoing throughout the room with force. "I only started dating Tiffany because... because I was trying to get you out of my mind."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her hands stopping their movements abruptly, the wet towel feeling heavy on her skin. The girl stared at the wall behind Matt for a few seconds, processing what he had said before finally looking at him, all the words caught in her throat as tears glistened in her eyes.

What?

"I know it was wrong, and I'm so sorry." Matt continued, his voice strained as his eyes seemed to search hers desperately. “But I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I could never forget you. Because... because I love you, Y/N. Since the first day I met you, I have loved you. Every time I close my eyes, it's your face that I see. You're always in my thoughts, in my dreams, everywhere, and nothing I tried could make you disappear."

Y/N's heart raced in her chest a mile a minute as Matt's words echoed in her mind. An overwhelming mix of happiness and relief filling her veins at finally hearing the words she had waited for so many years.

"Matt, this is..." Y/N shook her head as an easy smile spread across her face automatically. "I love you too." She confessed, her voice almost a whisper, lowering her face, her eyes finally meeting his electrifying ones, feeling as if they were piercing her soul, which now, exposed, no longer had a barrier to hide her true feelings. "I love you more than I ever thought possible to love anyone."

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @watermelonreid @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[nburkhardt]

Clingy Honeyboy

Quick information I don’t want to fully explain: it’s an au of season 4. Steve and Eddie got together while Steve was working at Scoops. The UD isn’t around anymore either.

cw: omegaverse, mpreg (omega Steve & alpha Eddie)

Onto the fic ✨

There’s something up with Steve.

Eddie loves him, like, wants to mate with him kind of love. Is sorta obsessed with him actually. Already half way living together and has family weekly meals with Wayne kinda love. Clings to each other, spends as much time as possible together type of love. Ya know?

And that’s how he knows there’s something up because Steve’s been extra, extra clingy.

So clingy that his best friends officially found out about their relationship, because Steve was glued to his back during band practice one day. (He had to answer many questions that day- with a purring very content Steve leaned against him not even bothering to help, the jerk!)

Look, he’s not complaining. Eddie loves his clingy omega very much, thank you. He’s worried, this is a new level of clingy for his sweet baby.

It’s just…leaning into a concerning amount of clinginess. To the point that he’s skipped days of school and spent it in their nest or in the backroom of Family Video. Steve heavily scents him on the days they do manage to be apart. He’s almost out of clothes because they keep getting stolen!

“Alright, okay. Stevie, Sunshine, Light of my life. What is going on?” Eddie sits up in their nest, watching as Steve stops his hands from continuing fixing the edge of the nest, “Honey?”

Steve shifts to sit back down, confusion all over his beautiful face. “What do you mean, Eds?”

“You’ve been extra clingy, stealing a lot of my shirts. You’re fixing the nest for the tenth time this week and it’s only Tuesday. I’m starting to get concerned, are you feeling okay?”

Eddie reaches over and grabs his hands, squeezing lightly before tugging him closer. Steve goes along and rests his forehead against his shoulder, “I just, I have this need to be with you and- and the nest feels wrong, okay?”

“Wrong? But it’s our nest, has been for a while now?”

Steve lets out a huff, “I know! But it’s, there’s- maybe. It needs more, I don’t know.” there’s tears coming up and Eddie is quick to pull him into a hug, “Doctors appointment?”

“Doctors appointment.”

The day he found the courage to just talk to Eddie, Steve was a little sleep deprived. (Give him a break, it was just after the whole- mall fire, okay?!) It felt out of body, but so amazing, because the alpha said yes to a date.

Right now, right here, he feels that same- giddiness. Feels on cloud nine, his heart is beating so fast and his scent is blooming his joy.

“Congratulations, is the right word, then?” The doctor smiles at them, then while the doctor talks a bit more, Steve blanks it out.

In a few blinks, he’s settled on their couch at home and Eddie is strumming his acoustic guitar. Their combined joyful scents are filling his nose and making him feel warm and happy. They stay like that until Wayne gets home, telling him the news immediately.

Because one, they live together and two, it’s Wayne. Of course he gets to know immediately.

Steve is so happy the days following that everyone gets to smell his cinnamon and the new subtle vanilla scent from his pregnancy. His joy is contagious, everyone they run into ends up feeling just as happy as Steve.

It was only a matter of time for Steve’s found family pack to notice and question the sudden mood change.

(It took Robin a day of working together to piece it together, she knew of their relationship of course, she’s Robin. She freaked, rambled and cried happy tears for him. The front room of Family Video was full of cinnamon and apples from their combined scents.)

Eddie’s busy reworking notes and rereading all his papers, leaning over the table and ignoring the others around him. He’s too wrapped in it that he doesn’t hear or see the door open, until a very familiar scent pops up next to him that immediately gets his attention.

Standing there with a pout already on his face, his arms crossed in the jacket Eddie was wearing last night, is his Stevie. His scent doesn’t give off actual distress or discomfort, so Eddie isn’t panicking yet. Instead he flips his papers over and turns completely to face his Sweetheart.

Around them Eddie can hear how silent it gets as Steve climbs into his lap and immediately scenting him. Eddie’s arms automatically wrap around him and breathes in his favorite scent.

As he opens his eyes, there’s the newest sheep, Steve’s adopted pups, looking at them with wide eyes and mouths wide open. Dustin front and center, an arm up pointing at them looking like a cartoon character.

It’s as Steve’s pur starts up and he fully sinking into Eddie getting comfortable, that the room explodes with questions. At least from the pups- his best friends already know how clingy Steve’s been for weeks now.

“What the hell is this?”

Eddie shifts against the chair and looks over at them, “Honeyboy is clingy.”

It absolutely does not answer the question and if anything, it looks to have annoyed Wheeler- and confuses Henderson even more.

“Honeyboy? How do you two even know each other?! Is he asleep right now?” Dustin’s eyes can’t get any bigger as Eddie watches the wheels turn in his head.

“yes, Honeyboy. Or Sunshine, Baby, Sweetheart, Babydoll, annnnd Stevie.” Eddie smiles as he lists each name, knowing he has even more. “We live in a small town, of course I know him. And yes, he is asleep right now so why don’t you be quiet and not wake my Honey?”

Henderson looks about ready to explode and it would be funny to keep him and the others from getting any more information, but luckily, Eddie’s willing to ignore the little devil on his shoulder today.

“Stevie and I are together, he’s extra clingy right now. Ya happy?”

The boys all look at each other with wide eyes before deciding to whisper to each other and Dustin turns back around and as he starts to speak, Steve shifts against him and Eddie can feel his smile as he moves.

“Teddy forgot one important detail, I’m also pregnant.”

I think if I continue writing, it’d just be more of Steve being clingy and a little shit towards Dustin. So we’re ending it there :)

I was at work the other day and all I could think about was a clingy Steve and how funny if that’s how people find out about their relationship haha. Then i decided I needed this to be just a straight up season 4 au, where the upside down doesn’t effect them anymore bc I didn’t want the hurt/comfort, I just wanted happy and sappy.

@puppy-steve (I saw that comment on the WIP I posted a few days ago ❤️)

Permanent Taglist: please let me know if you don’t want to be included when I post with mpreg.

@mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @bookworm0690

[d42itus1]

Dementia Daily

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[zablife]

Save me Darlin'

Benny Cross x female reader

Benny Cross Masterlist

A/N: Bc this seemed to be a fave line from my headcanons about Benny, it gets its own imagine. "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, blow job, corruption

"Fix your damn jacket," Johnny grumbled, turning to give Benny a scowl as the young man flicked his cigarette butt onto your father's perfectly manicured lawn.

"Jesus Christ we're trying to get these people to change their mind about us," Johnny huffed, climbing the steps to greet your father with a firm handshake.

Benny ducked his head to hide the smirk on his lips as he mumbled under his breath, "Well they really ain't gonna trust us now." Johnny was an unknowing accomplice in his plan to get close to you, a diversion to gain access to the prettiest little thing he'd ever seen.

Normally he wouldn't need to meet anyone's daddy, let alone pretend to care what they thought about him, but you were different. A carefully guarded princess in a tower, he might never have known you existed if Betty hadn’t dragged him to that church picnic last month.

Sometimes he wondered if he might be better off never to have met you though. As it was, most nights he lay awake replaying every minute you'd spent together, jerking off to the memories he’d carefully stored. Your innocent doe eyes staring up at him as you passed him a glass of lemonade, biting your lip just so. Or the way you absently twirled your necklace between delicate fingertips, running the tiny gold cross over your tongue before dropping it into the front of your sundress. And, God, the way your chest rose and fell as he showed you his motorcycle, soft voice promising so earnestly, "I'll pray for ya every night, Benny."

You entered his mind at the most inopportune times, stealing his concentration. He was a man obsessed, in need of one more glimpse of you. Even at this very moment as your father stared at him with disapproval, he knew he'd risk everything to make that a reality. If only he could get out of this living room and find you.

"I asked you a question, son," your father's voice boomed suddenly, pulling Benny from his scheming.

Blinking helplessly, Benny looked to Johnny who came to his aid. "Few odd jobs, nothing regular, but he ain't been here long."

Your father pursed his lips as he replied, "Spose that's why you have so much free time to ride those death machines."

"They're safer than they look," Johnny assured, clearing his throat and wishing Benny would say or do something other than stare down the hallway.

Luckily your mother came into the room with refreshments, breaking the tension as she began to ask questions about Betty and the children. It seemed to lighten the mood momentarily and Benny took it as his opportunity to escape, asking for the bathroom.

As soon as he turned the corner away from prying eyes, he heard a gentle humming and his heart began to thunder in his chest. Walking as carefully as possible on the rickety floorboards, he willed his heavy boots not to make a sound as he approached the crack in your door. Face bathed in the sliver of light emanating from a tiny lamp at your bedside, he watched in hushed awe as you tied pink, satin ribbons in your hair. Lace nightie inching higher with each raise of your elbow, the thin material slowly grazed along your upper thighs, making him sigh appreciatively.

He could have sworn he saw a hint of a smile winking back at him in the mirror as you reached for your lotion and a familiar heat began to rise in his abdomen. In a moment of courage, he slipped inside your room. Closing the door behind himself with a soft thud, he placed a finger to his lips with a look of mischievous delight.

The sight was utterly contagious, making you clasp a hand to your mouth to stifle the giggle ready to erupt from your lips. However, the sound of your father's voice a few rooms over soon impressed the seriousness of the situation upon you.

Rushing at Benny with palms splayed on his chest to move him back across the threshold, you whispered frantically, "We can't...you have to go."

"You want me to go?" came Benny's breathless response, hoping this wouldn't be the way things ended.

As you lost yourself in the ocean's of his eyes, you gulped, shaking your head pathetically.

"Then let me stay," he begged, giving his best puppy dog eyes. You tried to look away, but he hooked your chin with his fingers holding your gaze in a smoldering stare. He watched as your resolve crumbled before him, a small smile playing on his lips as he asked, "Did you pray for me every night like a good girl?"

You nodded as best you could in his firm grasp, only a whimper of agreement as your reply.

His cock stirred at your admission, the idea that you'd thought of him at night enough to rouse his deepest desires. The world fell away as he tugged you into his body, hands roving your hips and lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Yeah? On your hands and knees? Let me see."

Benny could tell by the way your breasts crushed against his chest that you were breathing hard, unaccustomed to someone manhandling you like this. You tapped his elbow for him to relinquish his hold and for a moment his heart stopped, worried he'd pushed you too far. As he surveyed the crucifix on your wall and the sweet confection of a dress you'd laid out for Sunday service in the morning, he reminded himself you weren't the kind of girl who did these things....even knew about them.

Then something miraculous happened. You sunk to your knees in the plush carpet, hands trailing along his muscular thighs reverently before coming to rest inches from his crotch. As you sat back on your heels you looked up at him, eyes glistening and plump lips parted. He might have hallucinated the next part, but the golden glow over the crown of your head looked damn near like a halo in the dim light. You offering yourself to him like an angel in one of his dreams.

Benny wasn't a religious man by any stretch of the imagination, but if he was he'd swear God sent you straight to him. He was certain the warmth of your smile and the softness of your touch was all he'd ever need to feel complete. Now he understood why you had to be kept under lock and key. A person like you was too precious to be defiled and his conscience began to gnaw at him the longer he stared, thumb stroking your bottom lip tenderly.

But the sinner that wanted every part of you was winning the battle inside him and soon his own desire overtook him. He moved his hand to tangle in your hair and took hold of your silky ribbons like a set of reins, guiding you closer in silent demand. Widening his stance to accommodate you, he urged, "Go on, baby."

And you answered the plea, tethered to his side dutifully. You nuzzled against his bulge, feeling the effect you had on him. In a word it was intoxicating and you needed more. Undoing his zip you gasped at the sight of him, knowing instantly you'd take the risk of being caught if it meant touching him, holding him...feeling the weight of him on your tongue.

The growls you pulled from him were devilish even as your delicate fingers and mouth tried to calm the beast inside him. He was a man possessed, but you did your best to keep pace with the ravenous desire of his hips pushing into you, causing saliva to run down your chin and past your knuckles. With every gag, he seemed to clutch your shoulder tighter, sigh a little deeper and it spurred you on until you heard him instruct you in a shaky voice, "Have to... swallow it all now, darlin'... okay?"

Your mind raced as you tried to recall what your friends had told you about this, but you didn't have time as he spilled into your waiting mouth. The bitter tang coated your tongue with his grateful pants echoing over your head. As you swallowed everything he had to give, you felt him stroke your cheek adoringly. "Angel, I think I love you," he exhaled on a low breath, raising you to your feet for a passionate kiss.

There was little time to bask in the afterglow, however. The din in the lounge had grown, indicating some kind of argument and he quickly stuffed himself back into his jeans.

“I don't think you can stay," you mumbled sorrowfully against his lips.

"S'okay, nothin’s gonna keep us apart," he assured you, that wicked grin returning.

"You promise?" you asked, tears gathering at your lashline in fear he'd never return.

"Always keep my promises, angel. Keep prayin' for me now," he winked, glancing down at your dimpled, reddened knees before exiting out your bedroom door.

[earlysunshines]

are we still friends? (can we be friends?)

minatozaki sana x fem!reader ; fluff, angst 

synopsis: seeing sana again during christmas causes feelings to resurface

warnings: food ; alcohol ; datzu crumbs ; cursing ; proofread halfway bc i got lazy + grammar and spelling errors probably

a/n: how to write angst?? am i cooked?? (I'm cooked) ALSO I wrote this in December so a lonnnngg time ago like when I touched the doc for the first time two days ago it said last edited 12/30/23 T-T

“y/n! come help with the decorations, it a bit tough to reach.” your mom calls out from the entrance.  

pausing in your place, you turn to respond to her, “i’ll be there in a bit, let me finish mixing everything.” 

“okay honey. make sure to wear a coat when you get out here, it’s chilly!” she yells back before closing the door. 

a giggle leaves your lips as you continue to sift the dry ingredients, trying not to spill the flour and sugar. when you’re done with a part of your cookie process, you wash your hands and throw on your puffer jacket before heading out to help your mom. 

christmas is in four days and your mom has this annual thing where she throws a big party at your place every christmas eve. she invites all her friends who are back in town—some even fly out to come to this big event—and it goes on until the concerningly late hours of the night.  

your mom didn’t get to throw this big party last year because she was terribly sick, so you missed it that time, but now she’s so back.  

this means you’re in charge of the baking (yet again) and also helping her out everywhere. it’s not that you don’t enjoy this, if anything you look forward to this event—just not this year, it won’t be the same as the previous christmas parties. 

your mom has this friend who moved in five minutes away from your house when you were twelve, and they had a daughter your age. of course, both your mothers found a way to get you guys to meet, and eventually, you’d be spending the majority of your middle and high school years together stuck by the hip. 

her name was minatozaki sana; she was the first person you had fallen in love with inside and out.  

she had this type of vibrance to her that spread through her surroundings like a bullet train. if the room was dim, it’d seem like she had brought a piece of the sun inside just by being there, instantly illuminating it. it was palpable that she had her flaws, everyone did, but with the way she held herself up and gave her all, you’d see right past her imperfections and into that warm heart of hers. 

sana expected nothing and appreciated everything, that’s what made her lips curl up into a contagious grin. the streaks of creased skin in the corner of her eyes as she flashed that toothy grin gave everyone the intimation that she was simply overjoyed to be able to have the ability to love and to care. she was so beautiful in the way she found adoration so enticing, and that’s why you had fallen in love with her. 

your years with her passed by quickly, each year was filled with vibrant memories that led you to fall even deeper into her charm. however, you never mustered up the courage to tell her how you really felt toward her, and by the time you had gotten close to spilling out your pent up feelings; sana had found herself a little boyfriend. 

chris was some guy on the basketball team—who was also a bit short and lacking skill to even make the team—he was an arrogant, pretentious, and egotistical snob who managed to win sana’s heart. how did he do this? who knows, everyone who’s interacted with him either hates his guts or is in love with his pathetic self.  

he was only nice around sana, but you had seen him when he wasn’t pretending like there wasn't a stick up his ass. he was below the bare minimum and that’s how you’d describe him, he was nowhere near sana’s league. if anything, maybe you were just jealous (and that you were), but you knew what kind of person deserved sana—chris was not someone who deserved a wonderful woman like her. 

that asshole managed to win sana’s heart and keep it for half of junior year and all of senior year of high school, then he managed to convince her to go to a college that was a five-hour flight away from home—and by the way, your town was a two-hour drive from a well-known, top notch university, one that you and sana agreed to go to when you were both in middle school. 

there was no way you’d let sana go to that college, not when chris was the reason she was going. it was a school that wasn’t even comparable to the one not so far from home, the one that had significant alumni and programs fit for the both of you. sana could easily win a decent scholarship to the university you’ve been dreaming of going to, but she was going to let him change her mind in a matter of seconds. 

there was no way you’d let that happen, so you simply walked over to her house and stormed up to her room after seeing her text regarding this whole plan, a fool’s plan.  

- 

you remember the argument that shattered your friendships in seconds, almost like it was yesterday. 

“sana, you can’t just go to that school because of chris. look, i’m saying this as your friend and because i love you: he’s not all that, and the uni nearby has great health programs, they’re ten times better than the school over there and you know it.” you argue.  

you’re pacing around the room that you and sana have had countless late-night conversations and sleepovers in, the place where you had done more for sana than chris did. your eyes land on the two strips of laminated paper that hold the memory of the time you two had gone to the photobooth on your sixteenth birthday, your brows crease at the sight of your cheeks squished with sana’s as the two of you posed. a heavy breath makes your lungs shrink as you exhale. 

“i can’t let you do this, not for him sana.” 

“but i love him so much y/n, you know this. he promised we could stay in an apartment together and that everything would be perfect, we have a whole future planned and i—” 

“what about us sana?” you cut her off, voice breaking slightly. “what about our future? we promised that we’d go to that uni together, what happened to that? you’re going to throw it away for him?” 

“you’re being ridiculous y/n, we were thirteen! things change and you need to grow up, look—”  

“we’ve known each other since elementary school and you’re throwing away this opportunity for a guy whose grades are falling apart. not only that, he’s a fucking ass! you’ve come crying and complaining to me more times than i can count on my left hand.” you respond angrily, and much louder than you meant to. 

sana looks at you in disbelief, her expression almost carrying some sort of disappointment or disgust. she scoffs and you feel your heart shatter just from hearing it, this isn’t like her at all. 

“if you were so fucking annoyed by my misery then you could’ve told me,” she responds harshly, water lining her eyes.  

“sana that’s not what i—" 

“you’re supposed to be my best friend, always there for me and to support me. now look at you, what happened to that? can’t you be happy for me and chris? i seriously love him and all you’ve been is mopey and bitchy whenever he’s around.” 

“i know more people that have treated you better than him. he’s an asshole sana, it’s clear as day and even dahyun agrees.” 

her eyes meet the floor and she says in a smaller voice, “i love him y/n, and he loves me.” 

not like i love you, never will he love you like that. 

your features soften as you look at her. “sana you can’t—” 

“get out of my room.” sana spits in a stinging tone that’s worse than a dagger to your heart. she shakes her head then turns to avoid your gaze and your heart completely shatters as you watch a tear slide down her cheek in the process. “get out of my house, i don’t want to hear it.” 

“sana,” you begin, but when you hear her sniffle, you hold back everything that’s burning in your chest. your shoulders give up and sink in defeat before you croak out an “okay.” 

turning around, you step out of her bedroom with a heavy heart and trembling lips. tears stream down your cheeks as you make your way out of the house where sana and you had spent countless hours together—hours that you’d never forget no matter how hard you tried. 

- 

each breath you take is visible in the cold air and snow compresses with each step you take whilst hanging up the christmas lights. your mother smiles once you pin the last string up and  then you take a step back to admire the illuminating pattern of diverse hues beaming when your mom presses the “on” button. 

“thank you again honey, i appreciate it.” your mom says, holding your hand and squeezing it gently.  

you turn and smile at her, shaking your head before responding, “anytime mom.” 

the two of you enter the house again and immediately you’re on your way back to the kitchen to finish up your famous cookies. you three different types of cookies: chocolate chip cookies (the fastest batch to be eaten), matcha cookies with white chocolate chips, and ube cookies—sana’s favorites. 

-- 

“ube? what’s that?” sana says, giggling softly as you hand her a purple cookie with white chocolate chunks.  

“just try it sana, you’ll love it.” you assure, urging her to try. “it’s purple too, how could you not?” 

she rolls her eyes at you then picks up the sweet treat, taking a bite of the cookie. it’s crunchy on the outside and perfectly soft on the inside, making her shoulders sink down and eyes close when the new, thrilling flavor meets her tastebuds. 

“so, how is it?” you ask, raising your brows. sana simply smiles and nods, shooting a dorky thumbs up before taking another bite. 

“it’s wonderful, it’s like coconut and nutty and has vanilla and oh my gosh it’s so… it’s really good.” she sighs, melting as she consumes your baked good. she looks adorable. 

you laugh at her response and take a bite of your own experiment, eyes widening at how good they were. sana was right, they’re wonderful. 

-- 

“ah the purple cookies, those were a hit ever since you started making them.” your mom says, rubbing your back. she looks at you with some pity, knowing about your little falling out with sana. 

you simply smile and nod. “i like them, i was going to save some for myself too.” you joke, easing some tension in the air. 

“well, i’m going to call your dad up, go visit the kim’s later and tell them i said hi.” your mom insists, placing a twenty dollar bill on the marble counter. “heard they have a holiday latte out, you should try it. dahyun’s also been experimenting with her baking and beverages, she gets better each time i visit.” 

“of course she is,” you chuckle lightheartedly, “let me just finish these last cookies and i’ll put them in the fridge for a bit. did you want anything from their place?” 

“no, it’s fine. oh wait! i have a present for dahyun’s mom, can you give her this if she’s there?” she asks. 

“mhm,” you hum,  “just put it near my bag on the couch.” 

“thanks sweetie, i’ll do that.” your mother beams, then rushes towards her room to grab whatever it was that she needed. 

-- 

ring  

the sound of the bell chimes throughout the café—which is not too busy other than the elderly group in the corner and a student typing away at their computer to the side. you catch sight of the familiar face, instantly grinning when you walk towards the register. 

dahyun is turned away from you and cleaning the espresso machine, wiping it down and yelling a “welcome! feel free to check out the holiday pastries and beverages!” without turning towards you. 

you laugh and speak up, “it’s nice to see you miss know-it-all.” and upon hearing your voice dahyun instantly turns around, beaming a bright grin and setting her rag down. 

“y/n? you didn’t tell me you were in town? what the hell where were you last year?” she questions, walking out from behind the counter and then towards you to greet you with a warm hug. she smells like coffee grinds and cinnamon, you hug her back and smile. 

“i was deathly sick last year, like seriously fighting for my life. i didn’t tell you?” 

“no stupid, you didn’t.” she sighs, then pulls away to look at you. “i’ve only seen your instagram posts, haven’t seen you in a bit and wow… you look better than in the pictures.” 

“thank you?” you giggle before she walks over to return back behind the register. “i’ve also seen your instagram… who’s that girl you’ve been posting? got a girl and didn’t fill me in with the details?” you pry, smirking cheekily. 

“oh, tzu… gosh y/n we have so much to talk about, i’m glad you’re back in town.” dahyun says appreciatively, and you don’t miss the slight pink that dusts on her cheeks before she starts again, “let’s talk over some coffee. what can i get you? on the house by the way. we have like, thirty minutes before a bunch of people start piling in.” 

a giggle leaves your lips again before you decide on a peppermint mocha. dahyun gets to work and weighs out the coffee grins as you situate yourself to the side, watching her work her magic. 

the two of you catch up on what’s been going on with college, dahyun’s love life that you’ve missed out on, and what you’ve been up to yourself. twenty minutes pass and you’ve both ended up on some old memory that has the two of you laughing like idiots again, making both your stomachs hurt. 

“so… we’ve talked about what’s been going on with me… what about you and your love life? bet you’ve met a girl too.” dahyun interrogates with a teasing tone.  

“oh, well—” you begin, awkwardly staring at the cup in your hand. “i dated this girl for a while, but we ended up falling out and staying friends, nothing much… we just weren’t right for each other.” 

“i see…” dahyun responds, holding herself back from bringing up the sensitive topic—or, well, person.  

dahyun was aware of the falling out as well, but still stayed friends with sana. however, she was your friend before she met sana, so she had made sure if it was alright to keep contact and whatnot. of course you didn’t want your own personal problems to get in between other friendships, and you still loved sana despite everything that had happened so you gave dahyun the green light.  

after running to dahyun the same night of the argument with sana, you cried for an hour or two in her room. this was the first time you turned to someone other than sana, and dahyun had been on your side of the whole situation, making it easier to comfort and reassure you. she also disliked chris, but not as much as she liked you. 

she pretty much agreed with everything you had ranted about and thought it was stupid that sana would rather choose that asshole over someone like you, and later on you’d confess that you were in love with sana to dahyun. when everything had been rocky with sana, dahyun had been by your side, and you were grateful for that. 

“well, maybe you’ll land yourself a kiss under the mistletoe, who knows who’ll be showing up to your christmas party.” dahyun nudges you, smiling as she hands you some peppermint chocolate bark treat. “i could always set you up~” 

“it’s fine, really.” you guarantee. a smile spreads across your face and you dismiss her offer with a wave of your hand. “um, by the way… has um, has she stopped by or anything like that recently? does sana still visit—" 

there’s another ring from the door opening that cuts you off, making dahyun’s attention redirect towards the customer walking in. her eyes widen and she pauses in place before smiling awkwardly, then she mumbles an uneasy “um, be back…” before walking over to the register. 

you don’t think much of her weird mood shift and instead swirl around the small remainder of coffee in the latte cup. 

“hi dahyun! it’s nice to see you again.” a voice beams.�� 

you freeze in place, all of your body tensing up as soon as the familiar voice processes through your ears. it’s smooth, it’s sweet, and it has that same high-pitched ring and giggle that follows. immediately, your heartbeat spikes and you’re doing anything you can to avoid interacting or even looking in the woman’s direction. 

“it’s nice to see you too sana,” dahyun greets with a bubbly tone. the name being uttered from dahyun’s mouth is enough to make your hands grip the cup in your hand a little tighter. “can i get you anything?”  

“hm… i’ll have that peppermint mocha please. i’m also going to take a look around the bakery, i need to grab some treats for others. you know how it is, holidays and whatnot.” sana says in that adorable tone, it has you falling for her all over again just when you thought you’d gotten over everything that’s happened. 

quickly, you finish the last sip of your coffee before setting the empty cup down abruptly. it makes a small yet noticeable sound with the glass plate it had been sitting on, making sana advert her gaze.  

the small gift you had set down beside you is now placed on the glass that covers the display of christmas themed cakes. dahyun looks at you in confusion and tilts her head before you turn to smile at her, avoiding sana’s widening eyes. 

“thanks for the coffee dahyun, take the present on the glass to your mom—it’s from my mom to yours.” you start, trying to keep your voice level 

every ounce of restraint and discipline is fighting back the urge to simply glance at sana, who’s standing right in front of dahyun. you almost manage to avoid her, but it’s inevitable, your eyes land on your first love for the first time in almost two years. 

she’s looking at you with parted lips and surprise, but she still looks as beautiful as you remember. sana looks a little more mature than when you last saw her; the curve of her jaw is sharper, lips somehow brighter and her features are more defined overall. sana is wearing a scarf that fits around her neck comfortably, a brown, fluffy sweater, and dark sweatpants with uggs to compliment the outfit. there’s simplicity in her look—she’s jaw dropping, the sight of her makes your jaw tighten and heartbeat spike.  

her eyes meet yours for exactly three seconds, enough time to have every memory flowing in. 

clearing your throat, you finish your farewell to dahyun with a smile, “i’ll see you around, my mom says hi to your mom, tell her i also said hi too. i’ll get going now, have a good one.” 

your body doesn’t fight back the urge to glance at sana again—big mistake—before turning around and walking out the door. 

sana keeps her look on you the whole time, baffled to see you here and her own heart yearns for you. she’s missed you more than you’d ever know, and more than she’d like to admit. it doesn’t help her case that you’re ten times more attractive than when she’d last seen you at graduation. 

“you should talk to her.” dahyun says softly. sana keeps her eye on the door, you’re already out and probably in your car, but she keeps her eye on the door still. 

“were you talking to her earlier?” sana asks, now turning to face the younger woman. 

“we were catching up.” dahyun answers. the woman behind the register turns around to start making sana’s drink, unknowingly the same drink you had ordered. it all makes dahyun’s own heart sink in her chest a bit. “how long has it been since you’ve talked to her?” 

“since graduation.” sana explains, looking down at the counter. “i messed up.” 

dahyun turns around again to see sana, sorrow and regret etching into her features. the barista frows and reaches over to place her hand on sana’s shoulder, then rubs it gently.  

“talk to her, there’s always time to fix things. especially with y/n.” 

-- 

a few days past since that meeting, you’re still shaken up from it to say the least.  

sana is too, but you aren’t aware of that. 

to stray away from this event that is dreadfully close to leading to some form of existential crisis or spiral, you’re helping your mom out with setting up the last few decorations and tables while your cookies that you chilled a couple days ago bake.  

dahyun is also coming over with her girlfriend in the evening to exchange a couple of greetings and to properly introduce her girlfriend tzuyu to you. your mother had met tzuyu before and talked highly about her, so you were excited to meet her yourself.  

when the time comes, you hear a knock at the door and shoot up to answer it. you open the door and dahyun stands there with a nervous grin on her face. next to her stands tzuyu—and sana.  

your eyes widen and your jaw tenses when you see her perfect face, standing next to tzuyu with this awkward smile. she’s wearing a gray pullover and black sweatpants; an orange scarf also wraps around her neck comfortably. she looks snug and cute as ever, no matter what she’s adorable in your eyes. your heart flutters and you get all nervous like a teenager again. 

pushing away the edginess flowing throughout your whole being, you greet dahyun with a warm hug, then give tzuyu and friendly one as well. you’re not sure how to greet sana, being all shaken up by just her presence, so you resort to a smile and a small “hi sana,” then invite them all in. 

sana walks in and her hand brushes against your arm on accident, the two of you definitely notice it—though you both decide to ignore it and the warmth in your chests.  

your mom greets all the girls with a hug and the five of you sit down in your homey living room. sana sits across from you on the couch next to your mom, and you sit there avoiding eye contact as you all catch up. 

an hour passes by and dahyun is over in the living room talking to your mom about what’s been going on with her parents and the bakery. in the meantime, you decide to give yourself a break from feeling all nervous just by being near sana. 

standing up, you announce, “i’m going to the kitchen for a bit.” your mom simply raises her brows at your sudden departure, you’ve been silent for most of the conversation and it seems like you’re the only one affected by the tension in the room. “won’t be long.” you add, smiling weakly. 

the fridge is still full of some essentials, and to the side, there’s some cold brew and your favorite coconut milk; everything you need is right where you need it. you head over to the counter and grab your favorite glass cup, heart stinging at the memory of when you had received it. it was one of the many gifts from sana. 

you grab some ice and put it in the cup, then add your cold brew inside. then you grab a small cup with some honey and search for a spoon so you can mix it in with the coconut milk. 

“drinking coffee at this time?” a voice says, making you freeze. you break out of your short trance and hum in response before continuing to make your drink. 

“you know i can’t resist a good coffee, sana.” and the way her name slips off your tongue feels right. you haven’t said it often since the falling out and it still rolls off perfectly, it feels right coming from you. you’re hesitant to talk again, feeling her eyes drill into your back. something in your heart shifts and you manage to ask, “did you want something to drink?” 

“yeah,” she answers, walking over to you and sitting at the kitchen island. “same thing you’re drinking, but sweeter.” 

of course she wants it sweet, just like always.  

“okay.”  

your back is still turned towards sana and she watches you grab another glass. as you do so, she gets a glimpse of your own glass and smiles. “is that the cup i got you?”  

still fixing up her drink, you nod and answer, “yeah. it’s my favorite.” 

“a lot of your gifts are my favorites too.” she admits, her voice so soft and fragile that you’re scared the thick tension in the air might break it. 

sana watches you turn around, but you still avoid her gaze. you place both cups on the surface of the kitchen island and begin to pour the coconut milk mixtures into the coffee. the liquids swirl as they combine, creating a satisfying view. sana’s quick to redirect her attention back to you, staring at your face again. 

last time she had saw you at dahyun’s cafe, she only had the chance to get a simple glance at your features, not enough time to fully take in everything that’s changed about your apperance. there’s two new piercings on both ears and a new, small tattoo below your ear; the length of your hair is also noticeably longer. your lips part as you swirl both cups in your hands around, and then you take a quick glance to the side, allowing sana to admire your side profile and the unique curve of your nose and lips. 

you hold the mug out for her and finally meet her eyes again. sana’s favorite thing about you were your eyes, they’re still as pretty as she remembers.  

- 

it’s some thursday night during your sophomore year of high school, you were supposed to be studying with sana for your math quiz tomorrow, but she had other ideas.  

“stay still,” sana mumbles softly. 

she situates you in the chair near her desk and tilts your head up with the fingers holding your chin. she’s inches away from you as she puts some sort of sponge on your face, brows creasing as she does so. your heart is racing. 

after a couple of minutes, sana finishes up your makeup. she’s done some type of natural look on you, nothing too heavy or bold. you look at yourself through the mirror and take a moment to examine sana’s doings. as you do so, sana can’t keep her eyes off you. 

something in her heart shifts as she admires you. her eyes land on your lips, they’re oddly alluring, and sana’s cheeks burn. 

“sana you’re staring… do i look weird?” 

“no,” she practically breathes out, mouth slightly agape. “you’re beautiful.” she says breathlessly, her expression turning all serious it makes you giggle awkwardly. 

there have been many moments where sana has found you pretty, not just physically. your small gifts and reassurance have made her heart flutter, but she’s always figured that was just because she loved you deeply as a friend. but when you stare at her with those eyes in this moment, she’s so surprised by everything she feels. she's giddy and happy and warm inside and gosh her heart wants to jump out her chest and cling onto you. she's not opposed to the feeling; she always has this feeling aorunf you and she loves it. that's why she’s always around you in the first place. 

her face burns and you’re gazing at her all confused, you look so cute. 

growing nervous from how non-verbal sana has been, you try to shake her out of her trance. “hey, you’re scaring me. earth to sana? hellooooo…?” 

“how are you so pretty all the time.” sana’s eyes soften and her whole body relaxes as she rests her head on her palm. “like, your face is so perfect and your eyes… god y/n, whoever gets to be with you would be so lucky, seriously. like, you’re honestly the prettiest girl in our school, how do you not have a boyfriend?” 

your cheeks flush from the abrupt compliment, so you push her gently and giggle. sana giggles along with you, still star-struck. you’re both young and unknowingly in love with each other—giggles and teasing seem to be the only way to hide that. 

- 

sana has always found you attractive, after all these years she still hasn’t figured out why she made the mistake of pursuing chris instead of the person who was always there for her—and ten times prettier. you’ve always been right there, she’s a fool for looking right past you. 

sana grabs the mug, still making eye contact with you and both your eyes soften at the same time. 

“y/n i’m sorry.” she says immediately, “i messed up really bad and—” 

“sana,” you cut her off, “just enjoy the drink.” she watches you smile at her, it’s genuine and small, still enough to calm her nerves. you grab your glass and walk towards the door to the porch, tilting your head and urging her to come follow. sana figures she could pour her heart out later, if it were on the porch it wouldn’t be the first time she’s poured out her emotions there.  

the two of you find a seat across from each other, the fairy lights above create some type of ambiance to ease the tension that’s hanging in the air like an invisible cloak of some sort, suffocating the two of you with its unease. 

“how have you been?” sana asks. it’s cliché, but what else was she supposed to say?  

you don’t look up from the drink in your hand when you respond, “good, you?”  

“likewise.” sana lies, her jaw clenching.  

“you know,” you begin, and with intent, your eyes meet her face and she’s doing the same as you had been doing before; she simply sits there with the drink in her hand, looking quite on edge. “i figured if i were to see you again like this, chris would be with you.”  

“we broke up three months after we moved in together.” sana says quietly, “i broke up with him.” 

“sana…” you mumble quietly, surprised to say the least. “why— what?” 

“i ruined everything between you and i because i was so blinded by his affection, i couldn’t stay with him anymore with guilt clawing at me.” she explains, her voice breaking slightly. “and i couldn’t bring myself to talk to you after hurting you. losing you was the biggest mistake of my life. god, it took everything in me to come back to you.” 

“you never lost me sana,”  

“i’m just… sorry for everything, i really am.” she says sincerely, “and i don’t think enough words could really explain how sorry i am.” 

you look at her with pity, and despite her coldness towards you during the last semester of your senior year, you decide to let everything go. she’s your best friend after all, you promised yourself to be there. 

“it’s okay.” you say, it’s not the truth, but it’s not a lie either. “it was my fault too for letting the distance between us get larger.” 

“don’t say that, it’s not your fault.” sana sighs. she takes a sip of the coffee, it’s good, of course— everything you’ve ever made for her has been great. “i only stayed with chris because i was scared. that’s why it was so easy for me to leave everyone i loved behind, i think.” 

“scared? …of what?” 

she looks dead into your eyes and exhales, “i realized that, that maybe i was with chris because i was trying to push down how i felt about you.” 

you tilt your head in confusion, then begin to pry, “sana what do you mean—" 

“y/n, i was falling for you and it terrified me. i mean, i loved you, and honestly, i think i still do. i'm so fucking dumb, god i'm just oblivious.” sana says, then immediately, your heart rate spikes and your brows raise. she continues while fidgeting with her fingers, “i guess it’s easier to admit now because we’ve grown distant, and physically we’re distant enough. chris treated me alright and loved me, but i came crying to you all the time because he never treated me like how i wanted you to treat me, i don’t know why i did that. i don’t know why i let myself go through that when i had you. every time i’d kiss him i wished it were you, every time we did anything honestly.” 

sana's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, their glossy shine failing to hide the immense emotions she was desperately trying to suppress. the weight of her confession hung in the air, causing the entire world to momentarily freeze. it felt as though time itself had paused, giving you a moment to absorb the magnitude of her words. 

sana loved you, and she still does. you loved her, and you still do.  

but really, you can’t. you can’t go through with this. it’s too sudden, so unorganized and uncertain. 

all of this is a recipe for disaster. 

the echo of her vulnerability reverberated through the atmosphere, your mind spun in a cyclone of emotions. thoughts collided and collided again like football players during some game, leaving your head in a dizzying state of confusion, the sheer intensity of it all was jarring, leaving you all disoriented. the feelings you suppressed were finding their way back out, and you found yourself teetering on the precipice of vulnerability once again, just as you did years ago. 

finding out that sana loved you still gave you hope, but the revelation also made you uneasy. it had been too long without sana, and so much had happened, so there was the chance that things would be all rocky. besides, it’s just too sudden. 

“i’m— sorry for dumping all of this, i just wanted to give you closure because… well, i should’ve given you it years ago.” a tear streams down her eye as she says this, and then she begins to stand. “i should leave, i’m sorry for not letting you know i was coming— god i’m so sorry.” 

“sana wait—” you start, grabbing her wrist. she looks into your eyes, her’s are still glossy. you decide it’s better to let her go for now, unsure if this is the last time you’ll see her after this—hopefully not. “it’s okay, just… be careful. you know i’m always here, always sha.” 

the nickname that you made up for her makes her heart crack a little, she can only smile back at you for now. 

— 

the conversation between dahyun, tzuyu, and your mom is interrupted when dahyun catches the sight of sana pulling her scarf off the hook and wrapping it around her neck again. she takes account of the slight flush of her nose and cheeks, as well as her water-lined eyes. 

“you’re leaving?” dahyun asks, concern clear in her tone. sana simply smiles and nods, “yeah, i’ll see you at the holiday party. it was nice seeing you too miss l/n, i missed all of this.” 

“you’re always welcome honey,” your mother assures, “where’s y/n?” 

“out on the porch, she said she’ll be back in a bit. i’ll see you all, thank you.” sana says before departing, leaving the three women in the living room perplexed. 

a few minutes later whilst the three in the living room conjure up theories of what had happened while you and sana had been gone—you appear with a blank expression. you sit down next to your mom and lean against her, not saying a word. 

tzuyu (who is only briefly caught up with whatever had happened between you and sana, and she deinfitely needs a thorough presentation on your history) looks at dahyun and tilts her head, dahyun simply shakes her own head. 

“sana and i talked a bit, resolved and made things clear.” you say, answering the elephant in the room. “i’m heading up, i’m getting sleepy and i want to have some energy for the party tomorrow.” you add. “it was nice getting to know you tzuyu, you’re perfect for the idiot beside you. night everyone.” chuckling quietly in between responses. 

and with that you’re walking up the stairs to your room, leaving your mom, tzuyu, and dahyun perplexed yet again. 

- 

december 25th, five o’clock pm. 

you're greeting guests, various familiar faces and their parents, family friends, and whoever else you mom managed to fit on the list. 

the party is lively, with people scattered in the backyard and on the little porch while your dad grills his signature bbq meats. your mom laughs with her friends as she sips on her wine, moving her hands around as she talks to emphasize her little life updates. 

in the basement with you are your old high school friends: momo, her cousin mina, jaehyun, mark, johnny, seulgi, sooyoung, jeongyeon, and dahyun, who’s accompanied by tzuyu. the rest of your frineds couldn’t make it, they were probably out of town. all of them sit on the floor or couch with a can of smirnoff or soda, all chatting and laughing over old memories. 

you lean against jaehyun as you laugh, letting yourself hide behind his shoulder while mark ruthlessly brings up each embarrassing phase you’ve had. what a guy, a guy you’ll be figthing soon if he keeps this up. 

the feeling of your phone ringing against your palm as you hold it catches your attention, directing you from the conversation at hand. the screen shows a call from “mom♡” which earns a confused look. you answer the call, cupping the phone so you can hear her better as you answer. 

“hello? did you need something?” 

“hey honey, would you mind coming out for a bit? someone wants to see you.” 

“someone?” you ask, “one of your friends or...?” 

“just come on out sweetie.” she insistts. 

“okay okay, whatever you say.” you respond before ending the call and starting to get up. jaehyun looks up at you with a quirked brow as he sips on his drink. you look back and shrug, “my mom wants me to meet ‘someone,’ probably one of her friends or something. i won’t be long.” you respond to him and let the others know. 

"alright, take your time," jaehyun says with a nod, setting his drink down. "hopefully, it won't be too boring," he adds with a small smirk, teasing you gently. you roll your eyes playfully in response before grabbing your jacket and heading towards the sliding door.  

you were right about the guess on seeing your mom's friend, or—friends. however, the sudden chill you get when seeing the minatozaki’s on the porch makes you tense up.  

they're standing there, glasses of wine in their hands as they look at you. sana's mom has a smile on her face, so does her dad. you walk up to them and try to shake off your nerves, fully hugging sana’s mom and giving sana’s dad a side hug. 

“it’s been a while hasn’t it?” sana’s mom says, putting her hand on your shoulder and grinning. “it’s wonderful to see you again.” 

“likewise.” you respond, melting into relaxation the more you get used to this atmosphere. “how have you all been?” 

after a tense reunion with sana’s parents, they find out about your ambitions and what you’ve been up to. not much is mentioned about the falling out between you and their daughter, but the thought most definitely lingers in the cold, winter air.  

sana's parents tell you about an internship she earned at a hospital her first year, saying they’re proud of her for helping others and the bonus of the nice paycheck that came with the experience. they tell you she’s found herself a guaranteed transfer to your school and that she’s excited to help even more people in the nursing program. it sounds like sana’s a great person, she’s always wanted to help others, it makes you smile and nod as her parents update you on what she’s been up to. 

but there’s this feeling of uncertainty and sorrow brewing. the fact that you have to hear about sana from anyone but her breaks you a bit, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t hesitate to update each other back then. now, it seems like you’re missing a chunk of memories that you could’ve shared with sana. 

“we asked her to come to the party.” mr. minatozaki says, looking at you with a sympathetic smile. “she said she’d consider it.” 

“oh, i see.” you respond, nodding whilst looking at the ground.  

part of you is glad that she’s not here, but who are you kidding, there would never be a time where you’d be dissapointed to catch her near you, despite the paranoia taking over. 

“well, it’s nice to catch up y/n. we've missed you, it’s great to see how well you’re doing. your parents must be proud.” mr. minatozaki concludes, looking at you with admiration. 

“yeah, thanks.” you say, “well, i'll leave you to talk to my parents, but i'll stop by again to talk to you two. it's really nice to catch up, i've missed you guys too, and your wonderful dinners.” you add jokingly, earning a laugh from the couple. 

sana's mom kisses your temple and hugs you, then lets you walk back into the house. 

it seems like this whole night has been full of surprises—scratch that, at this point, everything is a surprise ever since you've been back in town. especially now, because once you step into the kitchen, there’s a familiar woman who’s making your knees weak all over again. 

“y/n, hey.” sana greets softly, smiling at you. 

she's just hung up her scarf on the little hook near the fridge, the same place she’d always hang it back then. there was this unspoken rule that when sana was here, there were certain spaces that belonged to her; the hook near the fridge, the chair at the dining table closest to the living room, the right side of your bed, and the left side of the couch in the basement.  

still, you’re pissed at the fact she had practically cut you off completely over a boy just to come back years later to win you back. it irritated you how easy it was for sana to convince you, but you were much angrier at the thought of her coming back to see you because her and chris didn’t work out. was she serious about the breakup? was that all it took to forget that she had caused so much mental turmoil? 

despite this, her being in your house again and seeing her at this christmas party like years before; everything reminds you of the fact that sana had always lingered in your home. 

“hey, didn’t think you’d make it.” you respond, watching her shrug. 

“my parents said your signature cookies are here, i had to.” 

can't be the only reason, you want to mumble, but your lips stay sealed. 

sana speaks again, “i stole a couple, ate some earlier actually. still as great as i remembered.” 

“thanks.” you mutter, walking over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “did you want to talk about something?” 

“what do you mean?” 

“there’s a reason you came, and i know it’s for me since you’re not in the basement with everyone else. we both know that’s the signature spot.” 

sana cringes at your tone, but gives in. 

“i just wanted to see you, and hopefully talk to you normally.” 

it's taking everything in you to hold your ground, to protect yourself from this sudden appearance that’s making you all uneasy again. you can’t let sana screw you up again with a simple visit, you can’t. 

“i know you’re sorry but sana, you treated me so terribly. do you know how much i cried? how fucking terrible i felt after losing my friend of years to chris?” you seethe, sighing. “part of me wants to start over, maybe try again—but how can i do that when there’s the chance of you throwing away everything, we rebuild over another stupid fucking guy.” 

she looks at you with guilt in her eyes, her shoulders sinking and words jumbling in her throat.  

“y/n, nothing—no one, despite what i've done to you, will ever make me forget how much i love you. there's always a space in my heart for you.” 

you scoff, anger flowing throughout you now, then walk over to her. she stands against the frame of the entrance, you stand in front of her now, looking down slightly. sana's looking at you directly in the eye, you can see the hurt and regret in her eyes; her look brings you back to your senses. 

“how do i know you’re not bluffing? sana, every ounce of me wants to redo this.” your voice cracks slightly, the hurt evident in your tone.  

“you just have to trust me, i'm sorry, i'm really sorry.” 

you feel like curling up into a ball and hiding, the way your chest tightens makes you want to cry a bit. 

- 

the party ends around one in the morning, considering the fact that some of the attendants are adults that don’t have the energy to party until the sunrises.  

jaehyun’s just crossed the line, now slurring his words and laughing stupidly while he gets touchy with the guys, so mark ends up driving him home. johnny catches a ride with seulgi and sooyoung. with them gone, you’re in the basement with momo, mina, dahyun, and tzuyu. all five of you end the night with some recollections of memories, momo’s recent date, mina’s annoying professor, and before you know it you all are hugging goodbye. 

you've already gone through three cans of the smirnoff cans, it hadn’t done much except make you a little more giggly and talkative. you were a little tipsy, that was all. 

throughout the night, tzuyu and dahyun exchange glances, their eyes meeting repeatedly, dahyuns hand rubbing tzuyu’s thigh, and the little smiles they give each other. all of it doesn’t go unnoticed – at least by you – and hints at the potential for something you don’t want to think of in detail once they return home.  

as you observe their subtle interactions, a pang of envy stirs within you, longing for that same allure and anticipation. amidst the swirling emotions, a sense of emptiness creeps in, amplified by the beers you’ve had. you're left to ponder on what’s making you feel hollow, still feeling bad after raising your voice at sana earlier. 

you can’t feel bad, you shouldn’t. whatever you did wasn’t comparable to her practically pretending you didn’t exist for almost two years. 

after rolling your eyes and saying some stupid joke to dahyun and tzuyu – the last to leave the house – you head back to the basement.  

of course, sana had to be sitting on the couch, head turned towards the tv as she sipped on a beer.  

“hey.” you mutter, earning her attention as she turns away from the christmas movie you paused earlier. 

“hi.” sana greets. 

every ounce of anger, irritation, and dread had been squeezed out your body at the sight of her. you genuinely think it’s the alcohol that’s making you rethink everything, making it hard to fight back that voice in your head that’s trying to stay reserved and petty. 

sana sits there, her gaze fixed on you with intensity. her glasses are perched on her nose, a familiar sight whenever she's engrossed in watching tv or anything like that. the sight only adds to her charm, making her look even more adorable. you can't help but notice her favorite cardigan draped over her shoulders – the fluffy, white knit cardigan she adores so much –it's a cherished gift from your mother, and she's held onto it all these years. her eyes bore into yours, drilling into your skull and compelling you to plop down beside her as if nothing had ever transpired between you. you surrender, maybe it’s the late hours of the night, maybe the beer, o rmaybe just sana. 

(it’s probably just sana.) 

she turns back to the movie playing, some stupid romcom jaehyun had put on as background noise. 

your eyes trace the curve of her nose, lingering on her lips and the impeccable contour of her jawline as she remains fixated on the tv screen. her side profile captivates you for a moment, holding you in some sort of spell until she breaks the silence with her soft voice. 

“i think our parents are playing card games in the kitchen.”  

“probably betting money too.” 

“remember when your dad took your christmas money for their game?” sana asks, giggling at the memory. her eyes are still fixed on the screen, you decide to tune into the movie too. “didn’t he lose too?” 

“yeah.” you sigh, sinking into the couch. “he paid me back double the next day though.” 

“so it was worth it?” 

“yeah, i think we went out to eat with that money.” 

sana turns to gaze at you, her eyes tracing the soft contours of your profile in the dimly lit room. the glow from the tv accentuates her favorite features of yours, and she finds herself lost in the sight before her. for a while, she simply stares, allowing the comfortable silence to envelop the moment.  

you turn to look at her now, you two just stare at each other for a while more. 

“maybe we can try again.” you mumble, giving into the beauty in front of you. “every part of me is against the idea.” 

“that’s understandable.” sana agrees. she sighs before adding, “you don’t have to try again.” 

“i know.” you assure, “but i think we should.” 

“i’m sorry.” 

“i know, sana.”  

as the music from the tv fills the room, silence once again settles between you and sana. you know that you can't let this opportunity slip away – it's everything you've wanted, and deep down, you realize it's everything you've needed too.  

there's a mistletoe that’s hung above the two of you, it’s been there the whole time, both of you were aware of it. it dangles from the light tantalizingly, but neither of you do anything about it. neither you or sana even mention it. your mind races to the memory of dahyun and tzuyu kissing each other under it and part of you wants to kiss sana like that, but you won’t let her kiss and make up. 

you reach out, your fingers gently intertwining with hers. you lift her hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of her skin against your own. softly, you press a kiss upon the back of her hand, you linger in the intimacy of the gesture. 

the two of you sit there for a moment, letting the world around you two fade away. 

everything about the moment renders you weak. you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, a second chance is enough to patch things up. if it’s with sana, then maybe it’s worth it.