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thevampiremarie · 2 years ago

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Heartless CHAPTER 8.5

🔞 Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader 🔞

Fake marriage/marriage of convenience

You and Ghost get into a fight when he refuses to go dancing with you

Hello. I know it’s been a while 😭😭😭 I’m so so so sorry. Thank you all again for your patience. This was supposed to be one big chapter, but I thought I’d post what I have now just to make everyone happier while I work on the rest. A lot of smut in the next chapter. Hope y’all enjoy. YES THIS IS THE SET UP FOR GETTING DICKED DOWN BY COWBOY HAT GHOST. PLEASE BEAR WITH ME.

If one were to go off your husband’s tone, they’d think you just walked out of the bathroom in a stained brown paper bag. “You’re not goin’ out,” Ghost says after re-locating his jaw to its natural position under his balaclava.

“Hm. Thank you for your input, Ghost, but I wasn’t aware that I’d asked.”

You spin around with a huff and march back into the bathroom to examine your appearance, flinging the door open with such force that it slams into the wall.

Before you can shut it behind you, maybe lock it just to piss him off, your husband braces a veiny forearm on the doorframe and leans in. “You’re not. Not like that.”

“Why? What’s wrong with the way I look?” You ask as you go in with more blue glitter on your eyelids.

“You know what I mean.” His voice rumbles gruff and low.

And you can see his eyes looking at your ass through your cutoff denim shorts in the mirror. “Am I ugly? You don’t like it?”

Said shorts make your legs look fifteen miles long and are cut almost indecently short, accentuating your full hips and flattering your tummy. To fit the night's theme, you have on a very nice push-up bra with a white crop top tied in a bow under your boobs. And black cowboy boots, of course.

You have a matching hat somewhere…

Ghost rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’…” He sighs.

“Gorgeous, doll. Don’t pout. C’mere.” Then he reaches out and snags you by the waistband of your shorts, pulling you into his tall frame. You go easily, unable to resist him even if you wanted to.

Ghost tugs his balaclava down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Prettiest bird I’ve ever seen.” Please, like you can’t feel him pawing your butt with a gloved hand.

You rock yourself back, barely grinding against him. “Then I’m going out. Like this,” You tell him. You bat his hands aside to face him, your nose inches away from his mask. “You can come with me if that would make you feel better.”

Did Ghost really expect you would be content to twiddle your thumbs at the barracks and not explore London? You were pleasantly surprised to find a thriving line dance scene in this part of the world, and doing silly little dances while sort of drunk to cheesy country music sounds like your idea of a good time.

So this lovely Saturday night, you decided, ‘Why the fuck not?’ You can handle your sore back tomorrow. And now you’re trying to convince your stubborn mountain of a husband to tag along.

Ghost releases you so quickly that you stumble and have to catch yourself. “I don’t dance,” He says in a flat, deeply unenthusiastic voice.

“Please? It’ll be fun!” This might be a little cliche, but you’ve never gone on a date with him before. You’ve spent your time hanging around him and his team, wherever they may be, and yeah, you signed up for that…

But you want a date. You want overpriced drinks and holding his hand as you walk down the street. Something more. That doesn’t seem as unreasonable as he’s making it out to be.

“I don’t dance.” He turns away without looking twice and strides out into the bedroom. Ghost’s coldness hurts more than his rejection.

You don’t understand why you care so much about something so small. If he were anyone else, you’d take the L, move on, and go where you’re appreciated. “I wouldn’t even make you-“ You try, still staring at his back and wishing he’d meet your gaze.

But you don’t want someone else. You want him, just for the night. Have you asked him for anything else before? You haven’t.

“No.” Oh, is Ghost suddenly too good to be seen with you in public? Marrying you under false pretenses is fine, but God fucking forbid you go to a bar together?

“But-“

He snorts. “Fuck no.” He strips off his gloves before tossing them on the bedside table, clearly uninterested in discussing this further. “Christ, woman. Don’t look at me like that. Can’t you take no for an answer?”

You look at yourself again in the mirror. Blue eyeshadow, long, fluttery fake eyelashes. Pink lipgloss dabbed on your mouth. And glitter on your eyelids and cheekbones, like a goddamn fairy.

You’re too beautiful to be upset and too beautiful to sit around doing nothing with a man who couldn’t give less of a fuck.

Where is your cowboy hat?

You find it buried in a suitcase. “Ugh. Why are you being such an inconsiderate asshole? Go fuck yourself,” You snap as you set the hat neatly atop your hair. Then you grab your phone and send a couple of messages. Soap might be free, and you’d even settle for Sergeant Garrick or Alejandro.

You have your IDs stashed in your bra, along with some pounds. You do a once-over in the mirror and brush some imaginary lint off your cleavage.

“Where are you-“

You cut him off. “Out. If you won’t dance with me, I’ll find someone who will.” Someone who won’t make you want to cry, whose dismissal won’t feel so awful. You’re not interested in testing out the durability of your mascara.

“Love-“ You can hear his heavy footsteps heading your way.

Unfortunately for him, you’re already in the living room, making a beeline straight for your front door.

Your phone dings.

“Alejandro is free. I’ll see you later, baby. Don’t wait up,” You call over your shoulder, too upset to look back.

Your mouth presses into a flat, pinched line. You’ll get so drunk you won’t remember this fight and exhaust yourself dancing, and tomorrow, you can go back to pretending like you don’t care about Simon.

Music pounds in your ears. A man croons over guitars and banjos and a trilling piano in a thick Southern accent as Colonel Vargas turns you around the dance floor of this American-themed pub. The place is so over-the-top that you find it charming - everyone’s dressed like you, in cowboy hats and boots, and you hear more than a few lousy imitation American accents. Very quaint.

Blue and magenta lights drape all of the dancers in a riotous rainbow of color. There’s a mix of clumsy young folks your age, out for a cheeky pint with the lads, so to speak, and older regulars who came here for the same reason you did; to dance.

Alejandro has a very respectful hand on the small of your back as he effortlessly guides you side to side, forward and back.

You relax and let yourself sway with his pace, your feet moving perfectly in time, even once you stop consciously thinking about it. “You’re good at this!” You say loud enough so he can hear you over the music.

Alejandro flashes a white-toothed grin at you from under the brim of his black hat, the band trimmed in shining sterling silver.

“I’d hope so. Back home, in Las Almas, we go dancing a lot. Rudy and I.” He falls silent to guide you past a few people conducting themselves far less elegantly than the two of you.

You feel as though you’ve just stumbled on some great secret and found worthy by the keepers.

“Rudy?”

Alejandro’s face is a sight to behold. You can see a red tinge on his tanned cheeks under the lights. “My, uh, how do you say it? Los Vaqueros. He is my… vaquero.” Cowboy. His dark eyes glimmer, and you understand. Alejandro and his Rudy are continents apart, and you can taste their chemistry from where you stand. You feel it thrumming under Alejandro’s skin, like the mere mention of Rudy is enough to bring him to life in a way you’ve never seen before.

“Back, back, there you go. Out and-“ He lets go of your other hand and pulls back, leaving you plenty of space.

Your hair fans out around you as you twirl towards him on the balls of your feet. “Spin. Very smooth, Colonel,” You compliment. One of his arms wraps around your waist, and the other folds gracefully over your chest.

You untangle your limbs from Alejandro as if you’ve been dance partners for years. “Sounds like you haven’t seen your cowboy in a while.”

“I haven’t. Our jobs keep us busy,” He says. His voice is quiet, a timid undercurrent of sound that you can barely hear over the speakers.

“He serves?”

Girls covered in dark orange tan and shimmering body lotion spill onto the dance floor in a mess of giggles. Alejandro deftly pulls you out of their chaotic path before you fall over them on your ass.

“We served together,” He says as he dips you with a solid arm supporting your back.

Rudy must make Alejandro so happy. “How romantic.” Ghost would never smile like the Colonel does. But what would Simon look like if he were so happy? Would his voice soften? Would he dance with you, even alone in your apartment?

“Sometimes.” Your dance partner catches your hat right before it slips off your head.

You squeeze his shoulder in gratitude. “He sounds like a wonderful man. I hope I get to meet him one day.”

“Stick around long enough, and you might.”

“Well, then I’ll plan on it.”

The song ends, and something less suited to two-stepping plays next.

The two of you have drinks on a table next to the dance floor. You’re not worried about anyone tampering with them; Alejandro has already scared off any fellow who so much as looked your way. “He’d like you,” He murmurs to himself.

You have your Corona with lime, Alejandro has been working on a glass of expensive tequila all night, sipping it as delicately as if he were drinking tea.

He’s looking at you funny. The way you’re chugging this beer is probably not helping. You finish it and wince at the taste.

“You want to talk about what Lt. Riley said to make you so sad, hermanita?”

You didn’t even tell Ghost where you were going. That’s how fucking mad you were. You turned your phone off once you met with Alejandro, not wanting to see any calls or messages that would’ve broken your resolve. But there’s a worse possibility - that there aren’t any calls or messages at all.

“Not really.” You let the empty bottle thump as you drop it on the sticky, barely clean table.

His disinterest isn’t supposed to be a bad thing. Ghost could be cruel, or unkind, or abusive. You’re very lucky he isn’t any of that.

Kind, handsome, and affectionate in his own way is a hell of an improvement. For a moment, you feel ashamed that you want more. So what if he hates dancing enough to curse at you over it? So what if he doesn’t know who you are, the things you like and don’t like, your favorite movies, or why you avoid your mother’s calls?

You busy yourself with looking at everyone else so you don’t have to meet Alejandro’s knowing gaze. “Sí. Whatever you say,” He sighs into his tequila. Hopefully, that’s the end of the questioning.

Of course, it isn’t. “That one is… Rudy doesn’t like El Espectro.” Alejandro’s brow furrows as he thinks over his following words. “But I wouldn’t want anyone else on my side.” There’s more than a little respect in his voice and the kind of confidence in your husband that makes you want to be a bit more confident, too.

“Sometimes I think he wants me on his side. Then I remember that he’s a stranger, really, and I’m fucking projecting. Projecting that he’ll ever want me more than, you know, normal.” Maybe the beer is making you chattier than usual. You can feel shit you’d never say out loud just flow from your mouth.

Alejandro snorts. “He definitely wants you. We all know that. It’s very clear,” He quips, snapping you straight out of your vulnerability.

“Ugh, shut up,” You tell him as you blush a bright red under your makeup and knock your elbow into one of his buff arms.

He leers at you across the table, waggling his dark eyebrows and grinning once you start giggling. “Why do you think Soap has those new earplugs, eh?”

“Gross!” In revenge, you make a play for his drink. You don’t love anything harder than a glass of wine, but you’ll make an exception to spite Alejandro.

He laughs, holding his glass above his head where you can’t reach it. “I’m just playing!” Alejandro waits until you’re sulking in your seat before setting it down. “I won’t tell you you’re wrong, necessarily. But- but I think you’re underestimating him. Lots of people do. Ghost always gets the jump on ‘em. He might get the jump on you.” You gaze longingly at the remnants of his tequila.

“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about him anymore. It’ll just ruin my night. I need another drink.” That will solve your problems, at least temporarily. You’re not supposed to drink on your meds, but technically you’ve already started. In for a penny, in for a pound. And those rules are just suggestions, not hard restrictions.

The very friendly bartender with a thick British accent you can barely understand and nice eyeliner hands you one lemon drop shot, then another after you down the first. It burns like lightning in your esophagus. But the burn eventually turns into a pleasant tingle, warming you from head to toe.

You’re working on your third shot when Alejandro catches up to you. “Careful,” He calls over your shoulder.

You wave away his concern, another drink already in hand. This one is a rum and Coke, way too heavy on the rum. Did the pretty bartender do that on purpose, one girl to another? You like her even more.

The next song comes on - something loud and awful, its catchy beat punctuated by dubstep rooster crows.

“Come on, I fucking love this song,” You say, just barely slurring your syllables. “I’m not gonna shake my ass alone.”

GHOST POV

Your phone is off.

Ghost is embarrassed to admit he’s checked every hour since you’ve been gone. At least three hours, now bordering on four. And he knows your phone is off because when he calls, it goes straight to your fuckin’ voicemail. Which you haven’t set up yet, so he’s stuck listening to some stupid robot telling him to “leave a message after the tone.”

It’s driving him almost as mad as you are. When you get back - not if, when, the second thing he’s going to make you do is change that goddamn voicemail message.

The first thing is something along the lines of “make you sorry.” Ghost hasn’t ironed out the details yet. No matter. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

It’s dark out. It’s been dark out this whole time. You left with the sunset at your back.

While he knows Col. Vargas is with you, London is large. You’ve never been here before. Col. Vargas ain’t half bad with a map, but he’s not from around these parts either.

Maybe you never made it to… wherever you were going. How the fuck would Ghost know? How the fuck would anyone know?

He’s even angrier with himself that he was too much of a prick to listen when you mentioned it.

In the privacy of your quarters, Ghost pulls his mask off to run his hands through his shorn hair. The hair you cut.

It’s so quiet when he’s alone. This is the first time since- since you married him that he’s been alone.

You hum. A lot. Or you listen to music on your dinky wired earbuds, and he catches the sounds of your foot tapping along.

You snore, though not loudly. He’d never tell you, and he’s certainly slept under worse conditions. But it’s… nicer to kit up for the day, to brush his teeth and roll on his socks, knowing someone there will be waiting when he gets back.

Fuck.

Did you take the Tube? Buy a ticket? Oyster cards are cheaper, but you wouldn’t know that. Ghost should’ve told you. He should’ve been at your side.

He’s watched you struggle with the unfamiliar currency. You had all sorts of odd American notions about coins and exchange rates. Ghost had to correct you twice. After that, he secretly swapped out some of your dollar bills for pounds so that you’d be alright no matter what.

He left you with more than enough for a cab there and back. But what if the cabby overcharged you after hearing your accent? What if-

It’s a major metropolitan area. Criminals abound. Kidnappers driving ‘round cabs, stalkers, nonces. Statistically, at least one serial killer or two.

God-fucking-damn it.

You could be dead in a ditch, all because he didn’t want to go dancing. In hindsight, it doesn’t seem worth the quarrel.

This place is too quiet without you in it. He can’t stand to sit here in silence a second longer, staring at the lack of notifications on his phone and seeing shadows in the corners of the room. Closing his eyes won’t chase them away - he’s tried.

Simon only sees you covered in blood, a hole in your pretty head. Or duct tape over your mouth and your clothes ripped off, or you lost and alone in some alley, never to come home. Another name on the list of people he’s-

That’s enough of that.

He slips his gloves on, then pulls his daily wear mask over his head. Ghost has been choosing the balaclava more often. It’s something softer and a little civilian for you.

Not like you’re even here to appreciate it, he grumbles internally.

He runs the last moments he saw you over in his head a few times. You said Vargas was free, implying there may have been other options, but the Colonel was the first to respond. Ghost will eat his mask if Sgt. MacTavish wasn’t one of those other options.

The front door slams into the wall with more force than necessary. It makes a satisfyingly loud bang.

As Ghost picks his way through corridors he knows like the back of his hand, he thinks he should have told you again how beautiful you were. You would have left with a smile and kiss instead of a cold scowl.

He’s only being a good husband that watches out for you. That’s it. Ghost takes pride in being good at damn near everything, other than driving, so it’s natural for him to get worked up. Worked up is the wrong phrase. That implies that he’s agitated. He’s not agitated.

Is that a trace of your perfume he smells? Couldn’t be. Doesn’t make sense. Perfume doesn’t linger that long in the air. Ghost can smell gunpowder from a kilometer away and old blood three city blocks over.

And you. The scent is too faint for his comfort. If he can’t touch you soon, can’t gorge his eyes on your face and leave teeth marks in your skin, something’s gonna break.

Ghost leaves a boot print on the door to the communal bunks as he kicks it open. “Sgt,” He calls out curtly.

Surely, man-to-man, Soap can be reasoned with?

“Ah, so you’ve decided to show your face. Well, mask.”

Apparently not.

Irritation prickles down Ghost’s spine. “So that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

Soap finally condescends to get out of his bunk and stare Ghost down like he’s shit on the bottom of the sergeant’s shoe. “You’re a right eejit, Lt,” The other man snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

Ghost doesn’t have time for this. “Where’d she go?”

“Fuck should I tell you for?”

His patience and self-control and restraint are hanging by a fucking thread, and Johnny’s disdain is like the edge of sharp scissors against it. Is Ghost the only person on this goddamn planet who cares about your well-being? Including yourself?

You’d be displeased if Ghost got your best friend’s blood under his nails. Very displeased. Simon holds onto that reminder for dear life.

“You out your fuckin’ mind? She could be-, “ At this rate, Ghost will never snap at you again. One go at this circus is more than enough for him.

“Ain’t my job tae find your wife,” Soap growls as he sticks a finger in Ghost’s face.

The sergeant is wasting precious fucking time treating Ghost like he’s the bad guy, and you could be gone by now. Ghost has bigger fucking priorities.

Simon misses America - which is something he never thought he’d think. England is full of his ghosts, moments away from breaking out of their graves. In your homeland, you were safe.

“You’re supposed to be her best mate. You don’t know where she is?”

Soap gnashes his teeth, his eyes glinting with fury. “Should fuckin’ kill you, you know that? Awa’ an’ bile yer heid.”

“I’ll come back and beat you black and blue after I find her.” Ghost’s brain teems with swarming, sticky thoughts, blacker than an oil slick. He needs- he’s not sure why he can’t breathe. His heart rate picks up, and he doesn’t know why and it needs to not do that.

He needs you.

“Worry about yourself, Ghost. I won’t need tae do a goddamn thing. She’ll have you on your knees like a dog.” Soap pauses. “You made her fucking cry.” His words hang in the air like a noose around Ghost’s neck.

“Wasn’t tryin’ to,” Simon retorts. Then he shuts his mouth and thanks God that the mask hides his face. He sounds like a whiny, immature brat and certainly feels like one. Not a man, not the kind of man he should be for you.

“I told you not tae hurt her.”

Ghost remembers. With vivid clarity. “…” On the tip of his tongue hangs the thought that Soap hadn’t needed to. Ghost took one good look at you in that dress, the simpering sweetness in your eyes replaced by razor-sharp steel in an instant, and he knew he could never hurt you.

But what Soap meant is that he’d trusted Ghost with someone precious, and today, that trust was shattered. “Aye, so ya can put a shot in some poor sucker’s head from 2,500 meters, but ya can’t spend time with the woman you married? And be fuckin’ polite to her?” The sergeant’s tone is so caustic he could use it to clean a Scorpion’s engine.

Simon is familiar with guilt. Guilt has been his companion his whole life. The kind of guilt that can never be cleaned because the people he wronged won’t come back.

This is a new kind of guilt. One with the hope of absolution. It makes him deeply uncomfortable, almost nauseous.

“…I can’t make it up to her if I’m not with her.”

That tiny concession still isn’t enough. “Useless. Absolutely fuckin’ useless,” Soap mutters.

“Johnny, you ‘bout done takin’ the piss out of me?”

“Right now, that’s Sgt. MacTavish to you, Lt.”

Dammit. “Sgt. MacTavish. Sir.” There’s blue glitter on the sink back home from where you were dusting it across your face. Pretty shade of blue. But Ghost had turned away when you stormed out, so he can’t remember how it looked on you. “Please.” Did it run when you cried? He hopes not. You shouldn’t waste tears on a bastard like him.

Soap doesn’t speak for some time.

Simon feels some odd, heart-wrenching, panicky desperation build and build, his hands grow clammy under the gloves.

His phone buzzes, and for a second, Ghost hopes it’s you. But it’s not - Soap’s sent him an address. Some shitty little pub not more than a half-hour drive.

“There. Don’t come back until you’ve proper apologized. An’ if you make her cry again? I’ll dummy-cord ya head to ya hand since you’ve lost your goddamn mind.”

Under Ghost’s mask, there’s the tiniest smile.

Soap claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out of here.”

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the-kettle-whistles · 2 years ago

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(out of context) things my younger sister has said

y'all I have been compiling this since last year :")

“give me the crog"

“I never said an 8 ton baby could do my job”

“o̷̢̦͐̑͝ͅw̸̢̪̟̖̏a̷̲̩̮̒͋͆ ̷̼̐͝o̷̧͕̪̠͊́̚w̴̩̙͑̅̈́ḁ̷̢̾̽̋̔ͅ”

*panicking* “Why My Bed Crispy”

“She like that cheese stank”

"Why is everyone named ‘Guy’ ugly”

“I hope you explode. It infuriates me that there’s still air in your lungs”

“It’s holding on by the butt stick”

“I’m trying to reminisce on phone guy memories”

“My foot is baby sized compared to your giant man feet”

”imagine being named Mark. Like it’s so embarrassing you’re name is Markus”

“What Do You Mean I’m A Threat To Human Civilization”

“You have Walter White’s hairline”

“You just have me a glaucoma test with your mouth”

"i almost broke my toe. slay"

"i'm trying to enjoy the scenery but you just keep giving me free glaucoma tests"

"the dog is knocking. let them in"

*scooby doo voice* "come here"

“I just had a terrible vision of a ferret-rat-shark and it looked at me and smiled with human teeth”

*screams* *burps loudly*

"I want a frickin' boiga"

"You dummy, we all know it's swipe left for love!"

"my hands smell like a boiga"

"I've killed millions"

"I love it when machines do my dirty work"

"I'm stuck in a heck hole"

"It feels like I'm listening to smooth brain Christmas"

"Dude I ate like 9 enchiladas over the past 2 days"

"My spicy zinger for tonight is asbestos"

"Yo yo yo, chancy bust a move"

"This tastes like grass but with out the "g r""

"Men will be like "I'm such a gentleman" and then ruin abunch of people's lives"

"One of us is dumber and it's not me"

"You got a boy? How many you pullin'???"

"You look like baby Gabriel in those Jesus things"

"'Never have babies' that's what i always say"

"you can't have an overpopulation of 8 legged friends on your skin, you know that, right?"

"he did. he wanted me for real"

"men with beefy forearms. they're like crossfit gods"

"men are beautiful. and women, too. women are also fine" *a moment of silence* "sorry that sounded kind of sussy"

"You can find gay people in the wildest places. Just like pokemon"

"You look like a drown teddy bear"

"Thanks. I feel less evil"

"That's really ugly but there's such a beauty in things that are hideous"

"Urine throne of mass destruction and sewage carnage"

"I want the tickle me elmo so bad it makes me sick"

"This is all hypothetical. You guys are insane"

"Sometimes the world doesn't give you what you want and you have to cope with it by smelling my cheesey breath"

haha decided to post this at 11 at night and kind of sick on a whim

#i might add more idk #memes #sisters #family memes #lol #how do i tag this #fresh memes #text #textpost #funny #lmao #txtpost #things said out of context #out of context dialogue #out of context stuff #out of context #sibling memes #siblings #sibling

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shannendoherty-fans · 6 months ago

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Essay

Dear Shannen Doherty: I’m sorry I bought the ‘I Hate Brenda’ newsletter in high school

As a social outcast myself, it felt good to pick on someone else — even if that someone was a celebrity I’d never met.

July 18, 2024, 5:10 PM GMT+1 By Liz Brown

Shannen Doherty, who played Brenda on "Beverly Hills, 90210," in 1990.Vinnie Zuffante / Getty Images

Shannen Doherty, the Gen X icon who played Brenda Walsh on the original “Beverly Hills, 90210,” passed away on July 13, 2024, at the age of 53 after a long battle with breast cancer. It is never easy to hear about one of your teen icons dying young, but I felt an extra layer of dread wash over me when I heard the news.

Doherty and I had a history. She didn’t know about it and she didn’t know me, but I had been holding on to a terrible secret for 32 years. When I was 16 years old, spending weekends alone in my room listening to Morrissey, I saw an ad in the back of an issue of Sassy magazine for something called the “I Hate Brenda Newsletter.” And I bought it.

“90210” was the most important show of my teenage years. My family didn’t have cable when it premiered in 1990, but my cool aunt in New York did. She would record a month’s worth of episodes on a VHS tape and then mail it to my sister and me so we could keep up. We rewatched the episodes over and over until the next month’s shipment.

I wanted Brenda Walsh’s life. I wanted to sneak into a bar with a fake ID and have a hot older guy buy me banana daiquiris. I wanted to live by the ocean and have a cool surfer boyfriend with a Porsche and a trust fund when the banana daiquiri guy didn’t work out. I wanted the most beautiful, popular girl in school to be my best friend and drive me around in her red BMW convertible. I wanted to lose my virginity in a fancy hotel room after the spring dance.

I was incensed that a character like Brenda, some rando from Minnesota with cheesy bangs, an affected voice and an overly confident sense of fashion, got to live this life — even if it wasn’t real and even if Beverly Hills was nowhere near the ocean. Why did she get to love herself so much, when I hated myself so much? I hated Brenda.

Why did she get to love herself so much, when I hated myself so much?

I sent away a money order to a P.O. Box in Hollywood, which was wildly exciting in and of itself, and a few weeks later, I received the six-page mailer. I was elated. I remember hanging it on my wall for the remainder of high school and likely most of college.

As a social outcast myself, it felt good to pick on someone else, even from the confines of my bedroom. It made me feel how I assumed popular people felt: powerful, important and better than those around me who weren’t in on the joke. In a way, it helped me feel empowered against those who bullied me. I was lonely, unpopular and had a lazy eye. In ninth grade, boys in my homeroom class would salivate like wolves, waiting for me to sit down so they could share specific thoughts on how “butt-dog ugly” I looked that day. In 10th grade, when we were doing a science experiment with carrots, one of my classmates collected some extras and flung them at me repeatedly. When I told him to stop he said, “I’m just trying to help fix your eyes!” and laughed himself silly.

I was a desperate teenager at the time I bought the newsletter — trying to squeeze in at the end of the popular girls’ lunch table by offering to buy them desserts from the cafeteria and bags of presents at Christmas. They did not reciprocate. I don’t know if Brenda or Shannen would have either, but now I realize that in so many ways our collective feeling was: everyone for themselves.

A day after the news of Doherty’s death, I thought about the newsletter and dug through old boxes of treasures from my tween and teen years: an English paper on the Gary Hart scandal, pictures from junior and senior proms (unlike Donna Martin, I was blisteringly sober throughout both), and my college freshman year facebook. I found my “I Hate Brenda” newsletter sandwiched between a CD insert for Counting Crows’ “August and Everything After” and a junior high school diary about how sad I was.

The newsletter was so much worse than I remembered.

It barely even touched on the character of Brenda Walsh. It was almost entirely focused on trashing Doherty in real life, calling her a “no-talent with a bad attitude” and a “one-dimensional woman.” It was basically a compendium of people calling her an obnoxious, ugly monster. My heart sank as I turned to page three and saw the headline, “Send Her to Slaughter.” It was an article about how Doherty had reportedly been obnoxious on the set of a video for the hair band Slaughter, but it was more than a play on words. It was hateful, just like the title of the newsletter promised.

This is the first page of the six-page newsletter I subscribed to back in the 1990s. I dug it up after Shannen Doherty's death and was ashamed to remember how cruel it was.

Doherty was 21 years old in 1992. Tabloids painted her as demanding, entitled, explosive and moody. And a few years after I bought the magazine and turned 21, I was exactly the same way. But I didn’t have the eyes of the whole world focused on me and my every move.

Since the birth of social media, I’ve been profoundly grateful that I got out of high school long before I could be cyberbullied. “Things are so much worse now than when I was in high school,” is the narrative I’ve told myself. The truth is teen bullying was always awful, but now it’s out of the shadows.

In some ways, the ’90s were an amazing and empowering time to be a teenage girl. There was the birth of Lilith Fair, “The Vagina Monologues” and “Thelma and Louise.” In other ways, it was a horror show, with ridicule of victims of sexual harassment and violence like Anita Hill and Monica Lewinsky. And of course, there was that ever-present feeling that we should all look like a Victoria’s Secret Angel. The ’90s weren’t fair to Shannen Doherty and I don’t know that the 2020s are much better for women in the spotlight, or women in general. A 2022 Pew Research study showed that nearly half of U.S. teens have experienced cyberbullying, with older teen girls reporting the highest rates of bullying.

When I look at Doherty’s career now, as a grown-up who has lived in Los Angeles for over 20 years, I’m blown away. She was a working actress at age 10 in 1981, in an industry that has always been and continues to be predatory toward young women in particular. She starred in some of the most important films and series of a generation, like “Heathers” and “Charmed.”

I should have written this apology years ago, and now it’s too late. It doesn’t matter how you treat people when they’re gone. It matters what you say when they’re still here. But I needed to say this for me — and for the 16-year-old version of myself who thought treating others the way she was treated was the solution. I guess the best I could do at this point is create a time capsule filled with random stuff for her, like the gang did for Scott Scanlon after his accidental death in the Season 2 episode about gun control, but I sure wish I could take her out for a banana daiquiri instead and tell her I’m sorry.

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calypso-finale · 2 years ago

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Forty Eight.

I would say it’s a weird feeling to hold my baby sister knowing the massive age gap we both have, the fact she is already an auntie, the fact she has all these things to go through. The fact she will be growing up alongside my son, she is going to be feeling weird about it but she is my sister and I will be here to help her through life. I know I was acting a certain way but I was shocked and really I don’t think they needed another, but she is here and she is a mini Imani, she is my dad’ daughter so much, I love it really “if only Aziel was a girl, I think we should swap you over. I am sick of boys, they are just ew” Emi is staring at me in awe and I love that “girls are delicate, boys are hell. Like now, your uncle is loud and wrong every time too” Aziel is just throwing my makeup around, if I don’t stare at Emi I’m going to smack his butt “I’m sorry” I apologised “I’m not that bad, and really you will always have protection. You will have the most fun with us” she smiled “yeah baby you will, Aziel! Enough. I’ve had it, put it back now” looking at him, he talks his shit like he cussing me out “no! You made the mess” walking around the bed “no!!!!” He started stomping and shouting, “no you, pick my things up now” grabbing his arm “now!” He is a pain this child “clean the mess you made! Ruining my makeup and for what!” All I can hear from Aziel is mumbled words and mommy “ok, just clean the mess, then we can go down and play, you can play with Emi” walking off, I won’t have Aziel lazy like he can just make a mess and get away with it like that. Walking around my bed to sit down, this outlook if I was to have another is ugly so that will not happen to me “no sir” I said to myself, I don’t want a second for a very long time so Aziel will be a lonely child, looking behind me “awww Aziel, you are a good boy for mommy” I have to praise that he is cleaning up after he made the mess “don’t be like these boys, animals” I wish Aziel was a girl now, he would be such a pretty light skinned girl with the ashy blonde hair.

Getting to the bottom step with my grip on Aziel hand, I don’t want him to fall now “big boy! You did it” he is ever so careful to come down “bonding with Emi” my mom asked, it’s quiet downstairs “yeah, I forgive her for getting in the way” my mother side eyed me “thank you for having her though, just had to deal with the boys. Looks like she loves you though” looking at her, she just staring at me “she is thinking how beautiful I am” my mother scoffed “how big is your head? Girl shut up” I chuckled “I mean mom, look at your head, why is it quiet? Everyone gone?” My mom nodded her head “the boys went away and so did your sisters” letting out an oh “I stopped Oakley leaving, thank me” my mom walked off, I swallowed hard. Why was he even leaving, that is the point. Since he snapped on me, that night I just didn’t speak to him, he then took Aziel and just said one word of I will put him to sleep with me, then in the mornings I do see him, but it was in passing, now my mom asked if I would take care of Emi but now everyone has gone out and left me and Aziel here. Following behind my mom confused, I don’t get why he is going “why was he going mom?” I asked “he just seemed really upset, he didn’t say a thing, I just asked if he was ok and he goes I’m going home, I asked why. He just said I’m not feeling it, that he is not good. So then Chris piped up and took him for a talk or whatever then he came back still wanting to go, then I said look I invited you here and I want you to stay, whatever is upsetting you unwind, go and explore Barbados for real, no drama or anything so they went, for a few days” my mouth fell open “few days!? Mom what? Why was I kept in the dark?” I am not happy “maybe you’re the issue” my mom looked at me like I have done something “huh? This is wrong? How can you say that” I spat “Rylee, think about it ok. Also I think we need to spend time too” I swallowed hard as my mom walked off; I’ve been left behind. Is this why I was locked in the room, they did this behind my back.

I am actually livid and it’s not even a joke, how did they just do this to me “and left Aziel? That is wrong, since when did you even care about Oakley? This is stupid” my mom laughed “first you want me to care and then you don’t? Make up your mind up” why is my mom mad with me “I don’t get it, you hate him what is this?” I want to know, my mom crossed her arms across her chest “because I assumed my daughter would be strung up on him and that she would be working to get this back, that you both would have a nice time away here but it’s not what I assumed, I have you not caring and him depressed. I assumed that you both were eventually going to get together again, I said it to your dad that I might as well get used to it, what better way then to bring him to my home, my peace but it’s not that is it Rylee. I don’t think you both want that” I shrugged “I don’t know what he wants” I don’t get it “clearly he is not in a good place, have you cared to ask?” I turned away with Emi, I don’t want to hear it “when you’re ready to speak to me like an adult I will be here, we have a few days together” this is hell, this is my hell. I cannot believe Tianna did this to me, how was this even a thing, how did it happen. I am going to get her so bad, I am going to call her when I get my phone from upstairs, how could she just leave me with mom, I don’t get why I am being blamed for Oakley being all depressed, I did nothing to him.

My mom is cooking, and I am just staring “where did they go?” I have been silent all that time, I didn’t want to speak to her but what can I do, we are stuck with each other “St Lucia” my eyes bulged out “mom, you are crazy. Why stay behind?” my mother doesn’t care, I can tell with the look on her face “because I wanted a family holiday, my family isn’t here. But then I thought you know what, Rylee and I need some time, we need to talk, we need to bond again. Why not, let them have their time. Let Oakley have his time there, clearly something is upsetting him, and I am shocked you don’t know?” shaking my head “he shouted at me really, we haven’t spoken since. I mean literally there is nothing to be upset about? I did nothing” my mom rested against the kitchen counter “I don’t get it mom, you tell me?” I asked “how can I tell you something you should already know, Oakley to me seems like a guy that doesn’t really go out of his way to show himself unless he needs too so when he showed feelings, and showed his sadness I was shocked and even I said don’t go, so I am asking you, what did you do?” now why am I getting questioned “I don’t know” I mumbled “you know what” my mom paused “it’s ok to not know, sometimes we don’t I love your dad and at times I didn’t know what he was feeling, I didn’t and it was because we didn’t talk” my mom shook her head “we didn’t talk about feelings, about things. We just saw each other as I don’t know really, we cared but didn’t care enough to listen because we didn’t want to hear the truth. But since we do, since we do talk, we listen it’s better. For you to not know, you ain’t asking or he isn’t telling” she is right, chewing on my bottom lip.

Rubbing my face “he did say to me, that I changed. Like I see it, he looks at me and he loves me but he said to me that I changed. I changed him, I made him love me because I showed him things and then switched on him but like, I don’t know. Ever since I had Aziel, things, well life has been just a none stop rollercoaster for me. Loving another human, a baby that is relying on me and uhm. I messed up, with Brian. I jumped so fast that I forgot him, and he was stuck at home after being shot, and his friend” I breathed “so you do know the issue” my mom said, staring at her “you look guilty” looking away from her “Halle said sex fixes things, but I think she meant that in a difference context. He still been doing it with me?” my mom huffed out “I argued with your dad, and I opened my legs, and he would still fuck me. Of course he will” chewing on my bottom lip “I don’t want to know about that, please” she waved me off “if you don’t want him then say it, if you want him then you need to fix it. Look I get it, new mother. We go through a lot, body changes, feelings change. Everything changes, it can happen and men can be the least of our problems and we expect them to just get on with it, I mean come on Rylee. Look how sensitive your dad is” she laughed “he is so sensitive that at times I felt like I was too cold with him but men” my mom sighed “men in love girl, they are different, you are young still. This is why I am trying to tell you, that if you don’t want him you need to do this properly, and I mean cut it off, you stop sex, you stop playing with him. And if you want him you be there for him and you help him, and that alone isn’t easy for a young girl that is starting off in life, whatever you did to get him like this, clearly he fell for it. Be real, you are an adult now, and” my mom paused “don’t’ make the same mistakes as I did, I neglected the man I love, and I could have lost him” putting my head down.

Flicking through the picture of Imani took in St Lucia, I am still mad at them ‘LOSERS’ I pressed send in the comments, I would say more but I won’t, I think losers will suffice for now, I mean look how beautiful the pictures are. I mean I can see the side of Oakley there; he is flustered. He is too white for this weather; he knows damn well “I forgot his birthday too, and rarely let him see Aziel when he was down” moving my phone back, I said this randomly, but it came to me “what do you want Rylee?” my mom keeps asking me that “I for one is, well was against this but I see that Oakley has some form of power over you which you need but I think because he is not in the right headspace he’s just lost it in that sense. I can’t put it all on you because you’re young but also you wasn’t that stupid with the way you got with him, I just don’t want you to play games. Like one day Rylee you could wake up and regret you never lived your life or you might wake up and regret that you let him go. You can’t have both worlds” I swallowed hard “I am happy with Oakley, always am. I think in that sense I feel ashamed with how I have been with him that I cheated on him, in a way I did. I was with Brian while he mourned his friend and I know that but bringing that up is so bad, I can’t do it mom” my mom cringed “I get it” she said and that is the only thing she said, even she is shocked with me, I have fucked up badly, I know I have.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Chrianna Fanfic #Chrianna Fanfiction

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cruesuffix · 10 hours ago

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i was scrolling on tiktok (as one does) and came across this post that pissed me off so bad. apparently there's this site called "Ruthless Reviews". there's this one post about "Top 10 ugliest men in heavy metal history" and MICK IS ON THERE. HES AT #6. HE'S THE FARTHEST FROM UGLY??

https://www.ruthlessreviews.com/features/10-ugliest-men-in-heavy-metal-history/

ohhhh i know about that list all too well… i could talk extensively on why exactly ppl think he’s ugly (spoiler alert: it’s cause he’s old), but i just kinda hate the narrative everyone has about him. i’ve seen ppl say he’s unconventionally attractive and… to me that’s the biggest backhanded compliment! I guess it’s just my opinion and I may just sound like a dickrider but he’s very much conventionally attractive! who wouldn’t want a man with long hair, big blue eyes and soft pale skin? a man with a twinkesque body with nice legs and (nice ass)?? like come on! he’s not ugly, not in the slightest. does he have a couple of pictures where he looks more creature than man? yeah, so does everyone get over it!

the bias that older people are just ugly and young people are hot and sexy is so crazy to me. like… i can name plenty more pictures where the rest of the crue look butt ass ugly compared to mick, but im not going to generalize and say they look ugly all the time and they aren’t at all hot or sexy. that would also be incorrect. though almost everyone in the fandom makes jokes about mick being ugly and unconventionally attractive or whatever the fuck… bro what if i unconventionally suck your-

ok anyways, like sure everyone’s entitled to their opinion but… when your opinion is tearing someone down (someone who’s already self conscious about his appearance and has tore himself down on many occasions)… it’s no longer an opinion and is just down right bullying in my opinion. mick mars is the most beautiful, gorgeous, and pardon my french, sexiest guy i’ve had the pleasure of seeing with my own two eyes. and i’m not just saying that cause i feel obligated to as a stan! i could have been a nikki stan or a tommy stan… hell even a vince stan, but i chose mick because i legitimately thought he was the prettiest.

that list is evil and i hate the person who made it. i hope that person has the day they deserve. i’m sorry for yapping about this so much but i could literally write an essay about this man and how the shit he had to deal with was crazy and how he’s actually the prettiest member of the band. physically he was beautiful, and his personality also makes him shine beautifully.

#mötley crüe #mick mars #toxic beauty standards once again prevail #if he was the youngest you would have seen everyone fight to the death for him #as if 30 years of age turns you to a crypt keeper my god #like looking back at it… he doesn’t even seem that old #but it’s hard to see that when the youngest member was 17-18 at the time the band started #still… we gotta stop acting like he was 50 and carrying a cane #he’s so beautiful but ppl wanna pretend he wasn’t cause they personally don’t like his facial features or something #idgaf if you find him unattractive cause I will fight you on that #what about him is ugly? pls tell me i wanna know what you’re seeing #lily of the asks

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supergraphicultramoderng1rl · 26 days ago

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Whenever I see people post selfies on here I genuinely wonder how people are able to do that because if I look at pictures of myself for too long I need to throw my phone across the room cause I just don't like looking at myself or taking pictures of myself. I generally don't care about looks but once in a while I'll think of myself so badly that I think I need hide away for the end of times. Like yay for my mutuals for loving themselves so much but I genuinely envy them for being pleased with the way that they look. I'm in tears writing this and it's so stupid lol.

Oh honey angel baby I’m sorry I know exactly how that feels and I know how incredibly frustrating and upsetting it can be. But the thing is, that whole rant I went on and quickly deleted about wanting to post selfies but then getting insecure—I think so many more people feel that way than admit to it. And when I DO post a picture of myself I have to stay off my phone for hours because it fills me with so much anxiety and dread and so I’ve decided it’s just not worth it. I’m maybe never going to be someone who is confident enough in my appearance to post selfies or pictures often and its not because I’m ugly it’s because I’m terrified of being perceived as much as I crave it. I don’t know how to help really because I’m struggling with this myself but I can tell you what I do know which is that how you feel about yourself has very little to do with how you actually look or how people perceive you and that physical beauty is subjective. I’m assuming you follow me bc you like mgg but I know firsthand that some people think he is BUTT ugly no offense to him he’s not here right now!! And see that’s just wild to me bc I am so viscerally ridiculously attracted to him!! And some people just do not see it at all!! And also appearance changes wildly over the course of your life and even fucking like day to day I look like a completely different person. also your appearance is the least interesting and valuable part of who you are and that goes for everyone!! If it’s the most you’ve got going for you that makes you boring and lame!!! Idk I’m rambling but ily and I’m sure you’re gorgeous even if you can never post a selfie in your life and I’m giving you a hug 🫂

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writing-for-life · 10 months ago

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Now this is an easy one for me without much emotional attachment. While I can appreciate the artistry of both McManus and Jones (they’re both comics giants), I’m not a massive fan of either (sorry, Shawn and Kelley fans).

The panel by McManus we see in the OP is iconic, and his Morpheus looks beautiful there, like in most panels surrounding that one. McManus definitely draws the closest we get to thirst-trap Dream (together with Dringenberg, but Mike’s less overtly so):

Lots of bare chest, hints at butt cheeks (covered, don’t get ahead of yourselves) and pouty facial expressions. Flaunting it in front of Nuala, no wonder the poor girl couldn’t help herself…

But then there’s also this:

The cursed side profile! Just personal taste of course, but I’d prefer if he had either a more prominent nose or no underbite because both in combination make it look like his face is a flat surface. Can’t please everyone I guess. (Please don’t take this too seriously—my brain is underpowered; can’t come up with deep stuff every day, so I focus on the thirst-trap tally instead, and these are subtraction-worthy points 🤣)

McManus was also involved in “The Sandman Presents: Taller Tales” (namely “The Thessalian”) and “Thessaly: Witch for Hire”. Which makes sense, since he was the first artist to create her look in issue #33. I have a meta about Thessaly you can look into—I know fandom hates her with a passion, but I think it’s important to see her in context (both in terms of the story and historically when it comes to feminism).

And then Shawn does stuff like this for Screwy Tuesday, which I just pulled out of my queue for you pre-emptively (it will still land separately). And I love it! Murphy looks beautiful here, too, plus he has great hair, a nose and… yeah yeah, I’m shallow like that, sorry…

Conclusion: McManus’ Morpheus is the King of Snooty Expressions, Lopsided Almost-Smiles and Raised Eyebrows, which gets added to the thirst-trap tally:

Have a bit more Shawn here.

Jones is an incredibly talented artist. His contributions to Season of Mists are truly works of art, but I find his portrayal of Morpheus jarring (it is the portrayal of Dream we are voting for after all). Not because of the sometimes (in my mind) ugliness, like this one:

My main problem is that Jones created “Dream of a Thousand Faces” (then again, he *was* the penciller for “Dream of a Thousand Cats”):

His Morpheus looks different from panel to panel:

Ugly/pretty, older/younger… While it makes sense in ways, and I can appreciate the thought behind it (of course he can look any way he likes, and his appearance changes depending on “who is looking”), I find the changes too frequent. As you can tell here, they often happen on the same page:

Season of Mists is one of my favourite arcs, but Jones’ Morpheus very nearly put me off it. Of course, that’s a me-problem, because his art is amazing.

Plus, there’s that cloak:

And as a DC girl and lifelong Batman fan, I will also forever remember Kelley Jones’ Batman because of the longest ears known to man:

So purely based on my need for at least some consistency in appearance, and because I think his Morpheus has the slight edge when it comes to my personal preferences (thirst-trap klaxon 📣), my vote goes to McManus.

Here are the faces behind the art again (McManus is a shy one, not a lot of photos around):

Who’s your favourite? Show them your appreciation via posting what moves you about their art, sharing a favourite panel or even some work that isn’t Sandman-related.

You still have until 6pm/London to cast your vote for either McManus or Jones before the next pairing lands.

Round One/4, Poll

Shawn McManus, artist #36

VS.

Kelley Jones, penciller #22

Two artists who both illustrated big, memorable arcs and gave us two of the probably most iconic panels. While McManus’ portrayal of Morpheus is fairly consistent, Jones gives us “Dream of a thousand faces”—often to the extent that you wonder if he has been drawn by the same artist. That’s why we really recommend you check in on their work again before you make your choice:

Shawn McManus: Fables and Reflections #31, A Game of You #32-33 and #35-37

Kelley Jones: Dream Country #17-18, Season of Mists #22-24 and #26-27

And remember, you are voting for your favourite version of Dream, not the particular storyline.

Who is your favourite and why? Let us know in the comments/reblogs. Share your thoughts about their art, your favourite panels from their issues, or even other art they created and help us turn this into an artist appreciation post.

Here’s the poll to vote for your favourite if you want to see them again (you can find the whole bracket here, and feel free to check out previous matches via the tag #sandman march mania):

Event organisers: @writing-for-life and @tickldpnk8 (who also designed the logo)

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #sandman march mania #morpheus #sandman x art #sandman art #the sandman comics #shawn mcmanus #kelley jones #queue crew

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borathae · 3 years ago

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↳ Index [Chapter 08 - Yuja]

Warnings: Smut, they are going down sweet memory lane together :(, switch!Yoongi, switch!Reader, mutual masturbation, handjobs, fingering, so much kissing, body worshipping, she’s a lil shy and he is so reassuring, slight overstimulation at the end, many cuddles :(, Yoongi once again being the only one

Wordcount: 12k

a/n: i will break into pieces 😔 i wanna keep living in this world forever :( gosh, this yoongi did it to me so well. he is such a cutie patootie :( thank you to everyone who went on this journey with me, i love you 💜

“What are you doing here?”

You turn.

Yoongi is in a fluffy onesie and with his hair ruffled from sleep. His eyes are puffy, barely staying open.

“I’m just a dream you’re asleep”, you say, feeling your heart begin to race.

“I know I’m not”, he says, holding back a laugh.

“Crap”, you murmur. Okay here we go. You came here to talk, so let’s talk. You take a deep breath before finally making the first move, “I came here to talk.”

Yoongi studies your face, gnawing on his lower lip.

“What I did early today was such a mess and now I’m panicking because I don’t want you to think I was telling you off or something. I’m just a mess and nervous and panicking and a mess. In conclusion I’m a mess.”

Yoongi scoffs in amusement.

“Do you want to come inside? It’s so cold”, he offers.

“Oh yeah, thank god you offered. I was freezing my butt off outside.”

“Yeah sorry, I was kinda asleep when you rang my doorbell, so it took me a while to get up.”

“I figured. Crap, sorry Yoongi. I should have waited until tomorrow or something.”

“No, it’s fine. It wasn’t a good sleep either way.”

You follow him through his cottage to his living room. It was warmer than the rest of the house. There was a pillow and blanket on the couch and in the fireplace coal was still glowing. Yoongi begins cleaning off the sofa from his sleep stuff, carrying it to a chair instead.

“Sorry, I’m sleeping by the fireplace for now because the heaters upstairs broke last night and my bedroom is literal Antarctica”, he explains, turning around. He has his arms wrapped around his own torso, shivering even in the warm room. Not even those fluffy socks he is wearing seem to keep him warm.

“You’re still cold aren’t you?”

He nods his head, “my body needs too long to feel warm after waking up”, he explains with his teeth clattering, “do you mind if I wrap myself up in my blanket?”

“No sure, go ahead. I’ll just sit down here”, you say and blop down on his comfortable sofa. It is still warm from his body, the sensation is seeping through your pyjama pants.

Yoongi claims the spot next to you, making sure to keep at least one pillow of distance between you and him. He has his legs pulled up to his chest and the blanket all the way to his ears.

“So uhm, you wanted to talk to me?” he begins, staring at you with nervous eyes.

“Yes uhm”, you nod your head, “why did we break up?”

He blinks quickly before letting out a breathy laugh.

“You said no easy entrance into this conversation for me.”

“Yeah I know…but I don’t know, it’s the thing which is driving me crazy the most.”

Yoongi stays silent for a while, gnawing on his lower lip with knitted brows. He gives in with a sigh.

“I wasn’t a good husband to you.”

“Huh?”

“I spent too much time in the studio, ignored your texts asking me if I would come home for dinner just so I can finish this one song and then when we did spend time together all I could think about was my work and how I needed to finish this or that.”

“You serious?”

“Of course I am. You think I’m going to lie to you and make myself look bad on purpose?”

“Yeah okay, that does sound like a dumb move. Sorry uhm”, you turn to him, “so we broke up because you were a workaholic basically?”

“Yeah well basically”, he lowers his eyes, “except that I was literally addicted to work. It became so bad that I couldn’t even get hard in the bedroom, which made you feel really ugly and as if I didn’t want you anymore, which wasn’t true at all. In reality, my mind was running on nothing but work, it took up all of me. I didn’t care about anything other than my clients and my music and one day you just had enough.”

Your eyes meet.

“You left me, packed all your things and left. And the worst part? All I thought of at that moment was that I can’t wait to work this heartbreak into a song.”

“Okay damn, I didn’t expect that.”

He laughs painfully.

“That was four years ago. I looked for help after I literally passed out and woke up in a hospital bed after my burnout. I got therapy for my addiction and slowly gained back control over my own life.”

He stops talking to look at you with glassy eyes.

“I’m so sorry ___. That’s all I wanted to tell you for the past four years. I’m so fucking sorry for being such a shitty husband to you. I was so awful and selfish and I will always regret it. I-“, he forces down a sob, clearing his throat and squeezing his eyes shut, “I never got the chance to tell you because before I could get to you and talk to you, you were in the car accident.”

You feel a cold shiver runs down your spine just at the mention it.

“Did you try to visit me in the hospital?” you ask, waiting for his answer with bated breath.

“Of course I did. I spent every single visiting hour with you. I talked to you a lot, watched your favourite cartoons with you and made sure you were always looking your best because that was always important to you.”

You laugh with tears in your voice.

“It was you? You were the one who put on my cartoons?”

He nods his head, looking at his knees.

“Yoongi, I-“, you stop talking to inhale shakily. You scoot closer, “Yoongi, I don’t know what to say. You made the loneliness easier. Holy cow, do you even know how important you were?”

Yoongi shakes his head and lowers his eyes even more.

“I was looking for you everywhere. You were the only thing keeping me from giving up because you gave me comfort. Yoongi I”, you force down a sob, “thank you so much.”

He looks into your eyes and smiles painfully.

"Seriously thank you so much, I owe you my life", you say in a shaky voice.

He sniffles, rubbing at his button nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

“You know", he begins with his voice slightly pitched in emotion, "I was really hoping that you would wake up soon and that I could talk to you and make everything right but then-“, his voice becomes quieter as he speaks the next words, “-the doctors called me, told me that you woke up, but that you can’t remember a thing.”

You sit back on your heels, feeling your heart fall in heaviness. He wipes at his eyes.

“I visited you one last time, thinking that seven years together must be enough memories to trigger something. It wasn’t enough, you looked at me as if I was a stranger and the worst part was the fact that I truly was a stranger to you. I was gone, erased, like I never existed. So I stayed a stranger for your sake. I didn’t want to rip open old wounds by telling you how shitty I was to you.”

You feel your stomach sink.

“And you never tried again? To see me, I mean.”

“Once after that. A few months into your rehab I visited the hospital. Not because of you, no I was there to get my shoulder checked out because I was having pain in it for a decade at that point.”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah, a truck hit me when I was a teenager. When we were married you always rubbed pain medicine on it on my bad days”, he says and gives you a smile.

You retort it.

“But the point is, I visited the hospital to get my shoulder checked out for my surgery and then I saw you sitting on a bench and I gave in to my own selfishness and walked up to you. Maybe something has changed now that you are better again. So I thought.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No it didn’t”, he lowers his eyes, “you looked at me in confusion and asked me if you know me. I told you that you didn’t and that I had mistaken you for someone else. I went home crying that day because I had all the proof I needed to know that I was actually gone from your mind.”

He sniffles, burying his nose in his blanket to wipe away his tears sneakily.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to cry. I didn’t, didn’t tell anyone a-about this ever. It’s so much.”

“No it’s fine”, you assure him with a painful lump in your throat, “I’m sorry that I didn’t recognize you. That must have been the most painful thing you ever had to feel.”

“Yeah, it was”, he whispers squeakily, forcing his eyes shut to gain back his control.

You reach out and wipe his tears away. Yoongi is frozen, forgetting to cry for your touch had left him too shocked.

"I'm really sorry Yoongi", you whisper and Yoongi watches a single tear roll down your cheek.

"It's not your fault", he breathes, reaching for your wrist to touch it softly, "please don’t blame yourself."

"I just feel so awful. All those years I thought that nobody cared enough for me to visit, while in reality I always had you by my side and, and I couldn’t even thank you for it."

"I'm sorry, I told the doctors and nurses not to tell you of my visits. I just…didn’t want you to be scared of a stranger sitting by your bed claiming to be your ex husband. I didn’t want to creep you out. They agreed, said that it was in your best interest not to overwhelm you with too much information."

"I understand, I just…I'm so sad that I couldn’t thank you sooner", you say and intertwine your fingers with him, "thank you, Yoongi. Thank you for being there for me."

Yoongi squeezes your hand, caressing your knuckles with this thumb. It is slightly calloused from renovations, but the touch is gentle nonetheless.

"I'm just happy that I could help. That’s all I wanted. To be there for you."

One gaze at his lips, one second of the unbearable desire to kiss him and you already put distance between you and him again in nervousness.

“So uhm, what changed your mind? Why did you decide to become my neighbour?” you ask.

“I didn’t”, he says, “I really didn’t. I decided to move to the countryside because life in the city suffocated me. You know, I had too many failed relationships after you, work felt like it was trying to gain back control again and honestly, my apartment sucked too. So I looked for a new place, something with as few stress factors as possible.”

“And the Old House was the best purchase for that?” you ask with slight confusion in your voice.

“Yes. Building something with my hands is the best kind of therapy I can give myself.”

You smile. That sounds so much like Yoongi. Always busy with fixing something. Of course he would find relaxation in it.

“So why my village? Did you know I was living here?”

He shakes his head, “I had no idea. I was so surprised when I saw you on my doorstep that night you caused the short.”

“Urgh don’t remind me.”

He chuckles shyly.

“Sorry, do continue. So you didn’t know I was living here, but you decided to seek my contact?”

“I must admit that yes I did. When I realised that you still didn’t recognize me, I felt sad at first, but then I got the brilliant idea that maybe this could be my chance at a second try. You didn’t know me, you didn’t know how shitty of a husband I was in the past. I could try again, show you the real Min Yoongi without work clouding his mind.”

“Mhm I understand your point. It must have felt like the universe was giving you a chance to make everything right again.”

“It did, it really did. And I’m sorry for the way I handled it. I thought it would be better if I gained your trust first before I tell you that I was your husband in your past life. You must believe me, I never would have let it come to the point of us becoming physical with each other. I don’t know if this makes it any better, but really I never wanted to take advantage of you. I just- fuck.”

He scoots closer to you.

“I’ve fallen in love with you again. The new life you, the real you. Not the bank manager, city girl you of our past, which by the way, still a great catch.”

You laugh.

“But I fell in love with the tea shop owner you of the now. You are just so lovely and sweet and made me feel so welcome when I was a shy mess with everyone and you see so much wonder in the small things and I just- “, he exhales shakily, ”-fell in love with you. And the stronger my feelings for you became, the more I doubted my own promise of telling you about our past. I thought that I didn’t really have to tell you about our past because we were so happy and you didn’t know my past me, you didn’t know about us, you were just a sweet tea shop owner falling in love with a weird city guy.”

“So when I tried to kiss you that night.”

“I knew that it was then or never. I knew that it would be really freaking weird if I pulled back again, especially after the nice evening we had and me basically telling you that I feel the same for you. I knew I couldn’t excuse all that pulling away with my nervousness anymore. Shit ___, I wanted to kiss you so bad that night, but the voice in my head told me to stop being selfish and instead be honest with you. So I was and told you everything and I’m sorry for not being honest with you from the beginning. I really am.”

He finishes by exhaling loudly, sinking in on himself as if finally speaking all those words out loud lifted a million pounds from his shoulders.

“Well damn, that was a hell lot of stuff to take in”, you say and exhale loudly.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know just…give me a quick moment to digest all of this.”

“Yes of course, sure. Take your time.”

He waits for you in silence, fumbling with his own thumbs under the blanket and sneaking glances at you every so often. He is literally dizzy in nervousness. He is so scared of how you might react, already picturing the worst scenarios in his worried, little head.

“So we were married for seven years?” you begin.

“No five, we dated for two before that.”

“And I broke up with you because work was more important to you than our relationship?”

“Yes and I’m sorry that it was.”

“And you visited me when I was in a coma and tried to make me remember you?”

“Yes, I’m sorry if that was creepy.”

“And then you decided to give up the city life and move to the countryside instead, but you didn’t know that you would meet me there?”

“Yes.”

“That’s some fate shit isn’t it?”

“…yes?” he murmurs shyly and with his eyes focused on his floor. It’s cute, it makes you smile.

“And then you decided to build a healthier relationship with me and to do us over?”

“Basically, yes. I know I should have been honest from the beginning and I’m sorry.”

“No honestly? I did some thinking and maybe I’ll sound like a completely crazy person, but I’m kind of glad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Really?” he sounds surprised.

“Yes, again I’m basically crazy at this point, but I think I would have straight up called the police on you if you rang my doorbell and pressed the wedding invitation into my face to tell me that we were married. I definitely would not have wanted to hang out with you, that much is sure.”

“So…me being a coward actually…helped?”

You laugh.

“I think so?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

“Okay…uhm…damn?”

You look at each other. You are the first one to laugh to get rid of the nervous tension. Yoongi joins in a second later to get rid of the pressure on his chest.

Your laughter only lasts a second and then you grow silent, gazing at each other with nervousness in your eyes.

“So what is going to happen to us now? I completely understand if you don’t want to see me anymore”, Yoongi says.

“I don’t know, urgh”, you groan, throwing your head back, “I’m literally so weird because I kind of want to keep seeing you”, you say and groan, “does this make me a total idiot?”

Yoongi smiles and shakes his head.

“Okay good”, you pause to scratch the back of your neck, “do you – uhm – do you have more pictures of us? And can you tell me something about my past? I honestly wanted someone to tell me about my life before the accident for years.”

“Of course I’ll tell you, holy shit ___. I have a photo album, I-I’ll just get it real quick.”

You have never seen a man run faster as Yoongi does at this moment. You couldn’t even really take a deep breath to calm yourself down and he was already on the couch with you again, bundled up in his blanket and with the photo album on his lap.

“Here”, he hands it to you.

“Thanks”, you accept it, opening it on the first page.

Your wedding picture. You in a white dress and Yoongi in a black suit. His hair matches with the suit colour and his cheeks aren’t as round as they are these days. Your cheeks seem rounder, perhaps it was also the way you had your hair back then. You and him were posing for the picture, looking so incredibly happy.

“That’s us, damn.”

“Mhm-hm yes.”

Yoongi lets you look at the picture in silence, studying your features with bated breath. You seem so interested. Especially in the one picture of you and him kissing after saying your vows.

“Damn that’s so weird. We had a whole wedding and I can’t remember it.”

“It was a really nice day.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. The sun was shining, but it wasn’t too hot. It was a spring wedding because you always loved spring.”

“At least that didn’t change. Spring is the best season. Especially with all the trees blossoming.”

Yoongi smiles, eyes softening.

“You told me that on our second date.”

“I did?” you gasp and look at the next picture, one of you and Yoongi dancing your first dance together, “I did…” you whisper, dragging your thumb over your smiling face in the photograph, “I was really happy, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, you were so beautiful.”

You chuckle, “that’s not what I asked.”

“Yes, you were happy too.”

You sneak a glance at him, feeling yourself burn up under his fond gaze. You flip the page, letting your eyes run over the many pictures of your wedding celebration.

“Anyone you recognize?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Do you want to know?”

“Are they the same people who never visited me in the hospital?”

“Most of them.”

You look at their unknown faces.

“Then no, I don’t want to know”, you say and flip the page.

A new location. You and Yoongi in the grubbiest of your clothes and with moving boxes surrounding you. One picture shows Yoongi trying to build a rocking chair. Another picture shows you bend over the bathtub as you look into the camera with your shirt soaked in water.

“That’s from our moving day. When we finally moved in together. The faucet in the bathtub broke and you tried to fix it.”

“And you took a picture instead of helping me?”

“Yeah”, Yoongi says and laughs boyishly.

“Wow, so mean”, you murmur, giggling afterwards.

You flip the page. More pictures of your moving day. Yoongi fixing the fridge. You installing a wall lamp. The both of you posing for the self timer with tools in your hands as you both pull a silly face.

You flip the page with a smile.

“Aww that’s cute.”

One single picture next to some text. The picture is of you and Yoongi kissing on the sofa, you are sitting on Yoongi’s lap and he has his arms around you. The text lets you know how your moving day went and that Yoongi was a complete meanie as he didn’t help with the faucet but then he fixed the fridge and he was your favourite person again.

“Did I write that?”

“You did. You loved writing a few words between pictures. I did the doodles.”

“They’re so cute. I like the little hammer you drew.”

“Thank you”, he says with his heart melting in his chest.

You flip the page again. You and Yoongi doing all sorts of domestic stuff with each other. Cooking, cleaning, doing the laundry, painting.

“Oh? We painted together?”

“In the beginning we did, yeah”, he says and sighs, “I’m sorry I didn’t find time for it anymore later.”

“Hey, no worries. I can’t remember it anyways”, you joke, sending him a reassuring smile before flipping the pages.

More pictures of you and Yoongi doing domestic stuff together. Going grocery shopping together, painting some more, doing face masks together.

“You look like the tinman of Oz”, you laugh.

“You literally said the same thing when we did those masks.”

“I did?” you gasp, “gosh, I’m repeating myself so it seems.”

Yoongi hums and smiles, resting his head on the backrest of the couch as he hugs a bundle of his blanket to his chest. He thinks you are so cute right now.

You flip the pages again.

“Aaaaaw oh my god, look at how small Holly was”, you exclaim in a high-pitched voice.

Yoongi’s head snaps up. You have reached his favourite page.

“Right?” Yoongi scoots closer to you, “we got him as a puppy. Look”, he points at a picture, “that was on the day we got him. He was so small that he could fit into my palm. Isn’t he so cute?”

“Yeah he’s so adorable. Gosh, look how small he looks in your hand, aaawww.”

You flip the pages. More pictures of you and him with Holly. One picture of him sleeping on Yoongi’s stomach and the words “asleep on dad’s stomach” scribbled next to it. One picture of him sleeping on your chest with the words “asleep on mom’s chest” scribbled next to it. Then one of Yoongi cooing at him as they both are sitting on grass. And another of you lifting him up in the air and smiling at him.

“No wonder he greeted me the way he did. He must have missed me so much", you say.

Yoongi looks at your side profile.

“He did. In the first few months of not having you with us anymore he could only fall asleep on one of your shirts.”

You pout.

“Nooo that’s so sad. Poor Holly.”

“But he has you back now and he seems happier.”

“He does?”

You turn, just your head, and come face to face with his soft gaze. He can’t stop his eyes from flitting to your lips. You didn’t miss it, feeling lighter in your chest at the sight.

“Yeah he’s happier”, Yoongi whispers and looks away as if he had realised what he was doing.

“I’m glad he is”, you breathe, averting your gaze back to the book.

You flip the pages to even more Holly pictures. It makes you giggle.

“I have another photo album and it is filled with even more Holly pictures. You can skip the next ten pages if you want.”

“Hell no, I want to look at all of them.”

And so you look at every single picture on the next ten pages, asking Yoongi every now and then for a few behind the scenes facts. He happily tells you every story and trivia he can remember. For example, that you and Holly always had this silly race in the park, which ended up with both of you too exhausted to walk back home, which ended in Yoongi having to carry Holly and supporting you with a strong arm around your waist. Or that Yoongi was way too overprotective in the beginning and that you had to basically drag him away from Holly because he always wanted to stay by his side. Also that he regularly claimed the entire bed while you and Yoongi had to sleep in one tiny corner.

Then the pages change. Holly was still in some pictures, but not all of them.

“We went camping?”

“We did. You loved it. I would have preferred an actual bed, but you insisted that we sleep in a tent and watch the stars.”

“Ah god that sounds like me”, you cringe and chuckle as you point at a picture of Yoongi with his hair in a complete mess. He had auburn hair back then, it suits him.

“That was when you woke me up with coffee and then surprised me by taking a picture. I hate that photo.”

“No, it's cute. I especially love the drool on your cheek.”

“Hey”, he whines and nudges your arm.

You turn your head and laugh. Yoongi seems flabbergasted, keeping his hand rested on your elbow as he once again gazes at your lips. His fingers are moving just the slightest bit, as if he wanted to caress you secretly. You laugh softly and smile, nudging him with your arm.

“Uhm”, Yoongi clears his throat, “sorry”, he says and pulls his hand away.

“It’s alright”, you assure him and flip the pages. More camping pictures. Oh you look so happy.

You sigh and knit your brows.

“We were really happy, weren’t we?”

“At that time we still were, yes.”

“Did we go on many camping trips?”

“Yes, even in our last year together. But I spent most of it on my phone.”

“I see”, you whisper, running your thumb over your smiling faces on the photographs, “I’m sad that I can’t remember those days. They seem like great memories to have.”

“They are”, Yoongi says softly and points at a picture of you next to a bonfire, “I cut that wood and you told me that you find it very hot when I use an axe.”

You laugh, “that sounds like something I would say. Axes are kind of hot.”

“And here? That was seconds before I burned my tongue on a marshmallow.”

“Aww noo that sucks.”

“It did, but you kissed it better.”

“I kissed your tongue? Eww weird.”

“Yeah it was weird, but that’s what I love about you.”

You look at each other again and this time around you feel your own eyes flitting to his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting them and making you aware that you had been staring. So you clear your throat and turn back to the album to flip the pages.

“No way! We went canoeing together?” you gasp and pout, “that’s so mean, I want to remember that.”

“You really don’t. I hurt my shoulder pretty badly that day and spent the rest of our trip in pain.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. I hope that I put pain medicine on it.”

“You did. Lots of it, with many kisses too.”

You giggle, “gosh, I’m so cheesy.”

“Yeah”, he whispers, dancing his pointer finger up and down your leg just once. You know that he did it on purpose, leaving you to shiver.

You turn your head, “hey, I’m a little cold.”

“Do you want to share?” he offers just like you had hoped he would.

“Yes please.”

Yoongi scoots closer and opens his blanket to drape it over your shoulder. Like this your legs and arms are touching.

“Is that alright?” he makes sure.

“Yes, it’s alright. Thank you, it’s so snugly”, you say and flip the page again.

“Recognize that pillow?”

“Yeah, what the hell? I have that in my sunroom!”

Yoongi chuckles deeply, “it was always your favourite pillow. You took it with you once you left, but this picture was taken minutes before you decided to have your five minutes and start a pillow fight.”

You snort, “gosh, sorry.”

“It’s alright. I won.”

“Mhm sure you did”, you tease, “you’re probably just saying this.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

You giggle and flip the pages.

“Oh dear”, you gasp.

“Yeah uhm, crap”, Yoongi gasps and covers the pages with his hands, “I completely forgot that those are in there too. Uhm yeah, we tried erotic photography a few times?” he says and chuckles awkwardly.

“I can see that”, you say and push his fingers away to sneak a glance at one of the pictures.

You on white sheets, they are covering your lower parts and the sun paints swirls of gold over your naked breasts, “oh so artistic.”

“Mhm”, Yoongi presses out with his eyes closed.

You chuckle, “why do you have your eyes closed?”

“Because it’s rude to look.”

You giggle, pushing his hand away to flip the pages. More pictures of you and him in every sort of sexy poses and positions. You try not to look too much either because you both are wearing very little clothing in all the pictures. So you quickly flip the pages again.

“Okay it’s safe to look”, you say and exhale in relief.

Yoongi peels his eyes open, “oh that!” he exclaims and begins smiling.

You look at the pictures. You are in your pyjamas in all of them, matching each and every time. They are different sets each time, which means those were all taken on different nights. They all had one thing in common, you were in some sort of pillow fort in all of them.

“Those are pictures from our countless movie dates. You insisted that I would build a pillow fort in the living room every time.”

“I see”, you murmur and grin.

“You see those mugs?” he asks and points at them.

“Mhm-hm.”

“Warm milk with honey and cinnamon. You always called it your special sleepy time recipe.”

“Holy moly”, you gasp, touching your chest, “when I made you that drink I…I remembered that somehow?”

“I was really moved that night, you know? I thought for only a second that maybe you finally remembered me, but it seems that only your subconsciousness did.”

You turn to face him, feeling your breath hitch now that you and him are so close. You can even smell his body wash in this position and the warmth of his body and you realised that this was a scent familiar to your nose. You know now why it was so familiar and it leaves you leaning closer, until you could watch his eyes widen.

“Thank you for doing this with me. It’s nice to know that I was happy before the accident. It’s just kind of sad too because I would love to be able to remember all those times.”

“It’s…” Yoongi looks at your lips, “…nice for me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I haven’t looked at those photos in years.”

“And yet you kept them.”

“I couldn’t throw them away.”

“Even when you started a new life.”

“Ha”, he lets out and lowers his eyes, “it’s kind of creepy isn’t it?”

“I don’t think so.”

Your gazes meet. Yoongi’s breath hitches. You are literally mesmerised by his lips. Maybe he could do it if he leaned closer. You don’t move away, as a matter of fact, you lean closer too.

Yoongi closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side, holding his breath.

Then you kiss and Yoongi feels like flying, sighing your name as an array of emotions makes his heart race uncontrollably.

It is nothing major, just lips on lips and a shy sound from you, but it leaves him breathless. You pull back with a giggle, nudging his nose with your own.

“I did it again”, you whisper.

“What?”

“I kissed you.”

“Yeah”, he breathes, dragging the tip of his nose up and down the slope of your nose, “I want to do it again.”

“But what about the pictures?”

Yoongi laughs breathlessly, tilting his head to the side so he could drag his nose over your cheek and leave a feather light kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Do you want to know more stories?” he asks you in a voice you have never heard from him before. It comforts you like nothing else.

You open your eyes, feeling your heart flutter at the view. He has his eyes closed, his dark lashes carry unshed tears and cheeks are flushed a deep pink.

“Later”, you breathe, letting your eyes fall closed again to chase his lips.

You both sigh once you find each other. The kiss lasts longer this time around, Yoongi even goes so far as to place his hand on your cheek. It feels big on your face, warm and soft.

You touch his chest, fingertips resting on his collarbone. His heart is racing even faster than yours does. This moment must be so special to him.

You break the kiss. Yoongi lets out a breathy whimper, closing his finger around a bundle of your hair.

“Come back please”, he begs quietly, nudging your face with the tip of his nose.

You let out a breathy chuckle, twisting his hair at the nape of his neck to pull him back into a kiss. You pull your legs up on the couch, sitting down on your heels and facing him in the process.

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut until wrinkles appear on his face. He dreamt of this moment so many times. He dreamt of talking to you and apologizing to you and maybe he also dreamt of feeling your kiss one more time. He never thought that those dreams could become reality one day. That one day you would really be back. But now you are, you are back with him again and you are even better than you were in his memories. Nothing else will ever come close to the pure happiness he is feeling right now.

He sighs softly, running his palm along the curves of your shoulder and arm. He stops at your wrist, dragging the pad of his thumb over the sensitive inside. It makes you sigh against his lips.

Your fingers land on the zipper of his onesie, playing with it mindlessly. The kiss becomes slower, just soft sucking and biting and the addicting taste of his lips. Yoongi is touching your back, refreshing his memories of how your spine felt under his fingertips. He thinks it still feels just as addicting as it did five years ago. His touch drives you on top of his lap, you just want to be closer to him.

"Mhm ___", he mumbles against your lips, letting out a lazy chuckle as you take his hands and tug them around your waist. He follows gladly, holding your waist safely while your weight is resting on top of him comfortably.

It feels exciting to be on his lap and to have him hold you like that while his lips dance with yours. It leaves you with an array of butterflies in your belly and tingles on the parts of your body he touches.

You want to touch him too. His shoulders, strong and muscular from all the working he has been doing. His neck, skin oh so incredibly soft under your fingertips and for some reason he seems to let out a trembling gasp as you let your fingertips dance over it.

The kiss breaks just enough that you can feel his breath tickle your lips. Foreheads resting together and eyes half-lidded, you touch his neck again, eliciting the softest of sounds from him.

You giggle, he does too.

"What?" his voice is raspy.

"Just, you", you answer him, pulling him back into the kiss.

Yoongi makes a sound again, abandoning your waist to run his hands up your back instead. First your lower back, palms outline the paths of it until you are kissing him oh so deeply. Then up to your shoulders, the touch is placed with such intention and care, inch by inch he seems to feel you up.

Your tongue darts out, shyly and hesitantly. He lets you lick over his lips once, smiling fondly before parting his lips and meeting you with his tongue. The change makes you gasp and for just a second you want to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. With his strong hands on your lower back again, he pushes you into him. Closer, tighter. No distance between your bodies as he tongue kisses you deeper and deeper, forcing you to whimper at the intensity of it.

So that’s how that feels. That’s how it feels to be so into a kiss that one's hands only purpose becomes the task of pulling the other closer. That’s how it feels to get so lost in the other that having to entangle each other’s tongues is the only bearable solution. It’s addicting.

With an almost needy roll of your hips you seek more of him. He doesn’t even have to press you closer now, you do it all on your own. Closer and closer. Chest against chest. Stomach against stomach. Soft hair between your fingers and lips sensitive from kissing oh so deeply. It is Yoongi who whimpers this time around, having to tilt his head back in order to reach you and your magical kiss.

You answer him, feeling up his shoulders and chest eagerly. You love how it vibrates under the sounds he makes, how his deep voice is tickling your fingertips.

Another tickle. You slow down your touch, chasing the tickle again. His zipper. Oh, how you want to tug it down.

You try it, hesitating a second later because the gesture made him gasp into your mouth. You break the kiss, looking into his hazy eyes. His lips are so swollen from kissing, looking so pink and pretty.

"Sorry", you let go, "that was creepy."

Yoongi however grips your hand and pulls it back to the zipper.

"Do it", he rasps, holding the zipper with you together. He tugs it down a few inches, letting out a breathy whimper while his eyes seem to practically make love to you.

Your heart is going haywire in your chest, your head is dizzy. He is so hot right now. Oh dear, his gaze is making you squirm.

With a gulp, you take over for him, tugging down the zipper while he rests his hands on your waist to caress it softly as you undress him.

Your heart is racing. You haven’t really imagined how Yoongi looks like naked before. As a matter of fact, you haven’t even really imagined how it would feel like to be sexual with him. You just loved to spend time with him and that was perfect for you. However, you can’t deny the feeling of utter excitement at the aspect of seeing him naked – or at least shirtless – now.

The zipper opens all the way down to his crotch. You place your hands on his hips and run them up his torso. Yoongi's breath quickens at the sensation, back arching so he could chase your touch. You run your palms along his shoulders until you reach his collarbones, continuing your way to the slightly opened middle of the onesie.

You take one cautious look up at his face, stomach tingling at what you see. Yoongi has his head rested against the backrest of the couch, eyes closed and features relaxed in bliss. As if he wanted to concentrate on nothing other than your touch.

You tug on the onesie softly.

“Oh?” you gasp, breaking into laughter a second later.

“What?” Yoongi asks in a chuckle, peeling his eyes open to gaze at your smiling face.

You giggle, hiding your nose behind your tiny fist.

“Gosh Yoongi, I expected you to be naked underneath.”

Yoongi looks at his torso and the thick flannel pyjamas he is wearing.

"I was cold", he pouts cutely.

“So you are wearing two layers?” you ask in a cute giggle.

He laughs, feeling his cheeks heat up in giddiness.

“I like warmth”, he murmurs.

“You’re like a cat.”

“You…”, he lowers his eyes shyly. The blush spreads over his nose, “...sometimes called me kitten because of it”, he confesses in a whisper.

“I did?” you gasp, “gosh”, you say, hiding your face behind your hands and plopping against Yoongi’s chest.

He chuckles fondly, placing his big hand on the back of your head to pet you softly.

“Sometimes you also called me grandpa because of the way I run”, he says.

“That’s so mean”, you whine, nuzzling your face against his chest, “I’m sorry Yoongi.”

“I don’t think it’s mean, it’s funny”, he assures you.

You lift your head. He seems so fond. It’s literally driving you insane.

“But most of the time you called me dumpling baby or snuggles, sometimes darling too”, he says and shows his teeth in a fond smile.

“Dumpling baby?” you snort.

“Because of my cheeks.”

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands.

“I’m so embarrassing, oh my god.”

Yoongi pulls your hands away from your face, placing them on his chest instead. He tilts his head up, placing a tender kiss on your lips. It makes your heart flutter.

“I called you beautiful and darling”, he says, studying your features with sparkling eyes, “or my love”, he breathes, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone slowly.

You are basically melting. He is so sweet. He is so goddamn sweet.

Yoongi looks at your lips, tilting his head up again. You meet him in the middle, kissing him back. He sighs, allowing you to lead the kiss with his eyes squeezed shut and his heart fluttering in his chest. He guides your hands so your fingertips would hook in the opened zipper. It is a silent question for you to undress him and you understand, pulling the onesie over his shoulders and down his arms until it pools on the sofa by his hips.

The kiss breaks, you broke it to catch your breath.

“Lie down, I’ll take the onesie off”, he tells you, nudging your hips softly.

You follow in an instant, crawling off his lap and resting back on the soft pillows. He works quickly, standing up to step out of his onesie. He finds his home on top of you after a second, resting between your legs and cupping your face in his big hands. His thumbs run along your cheekbones, lips curling into a fond smile.

You giggle, “so you're keeping the pjs on?”

“Yeah”, he pouts, “it’s so warm and cozy.”

You chuckle, sighing a second later when Yoongi pecks your lips. You blink quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Can I kiss your neck?” he asks in a soft voice, caressing your temple as he speaks.

“Yes”, you breathe, waiting for the sensation with your eyes squeezed shut and your head rolled to the side.

You always wondered how that must feel like. This is so exciting.

The first kiss is placed softly upon your skin, leaving you to gasp for air. The second kiss is placed just next to it, Yoongi gives you the softest of sucks to end it with. The third kiss is placed just under your ear, right where your jawline melts into your neck. You shiver so much, feeling so good and lightheaded.

Yoongi sighs your name softly, placing the fourth kiss on your jawline. He allows his teeth to drag over your skin gently, eliciting goosebumps on your arms in reaction. And while his lips worship your neck, his right hand runs along your body, starting at your thighs and ending at your shoulders. It leaves tingles behind, making you so sensitive to his touch. So sensitive and so, so nervous because as Yoongi makes the first indicator of touching you under your breast you tense up.

“Yoongi wait.”

“What is it?” he lifts his head from your neck, hair ruffled from the pillows.

“I, I have to confess something to you.”

He nods his head and relaxes, “tell me.”

“I didn’t have sex with anyone in four years”, you blurt out and hide your face behind your hands, “urgh god I just said that out loud.”

Fingers rest themselves on your hand, tugging it away from your face. If comfort had a face it would be Yoongi in this moment, because as you open your eyes in nervousness and meet his fond gaze you don’t feel fear or embarrassment, you feel comfort.

“It’s alright”, he whispers.

“And I’m not on birth control, so you have to use a condom.”

“Of course, that’s alright.”

“And I also have no idea how to do sex because I have no memory of how to do it”, you say.

He cups your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

“That’s alright too.”

“A-and also I have scars”, you say and lower your eyes, “many, they are sorta big.”

“Doesn’t matter, you are so beautiful with or without the scars.”

You feel so freaking comforted. God damn you are repeating yourself, but Yoongi just....radiates judgement free and honest comfort.

“Okay, okay”, you let out a deep breath, locking eyes with him, “sorry, I just needed to get all of this off my chest.”

He smiles softly, “it’s alright. You know that we can take it slow? We can do whatever you are comfortable with.”

“Really?”

“Yes really. We’ll take it at your pace, alright?”

“Yes, alright.”

Yoongi smiles, kissing your forehead softly. It makes your eyelids flutter shut and your heart skip a beat in your chest.

“So what should we do? Should I show you more pictures?”

You shake your head.

“Then more stories? I could tell you about our honeymoon, it was a blast. That was the time we ate watermelon for breakfast and also realised that we are both good surfers.”

You smile, cupping his face in your hands. Yoongi parts his lips and gazes down at you with widened eyes.

“I want to try.”

“What? Surfing?”

“No”, you laugh, “gosh no, not surfing. I kind of want to try...sex?”

His eyes soften, yet deep down arousal glistens in them.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now.”

“With m-me?”

“No Yoongi, with the old Misses Jang from up the road”, you say sarcastically.

Yoongi blushes furiously, hiding his face in your shoulder with an embarrassed groan. You laugh and giggle, giving his head a soft pat.

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m nervous too”, he whines.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just me.”

“Yeah exactly”, he lifts his head, somehow his bangs are even messier than before, “I want to make a good first impression.”

“What should I say? At least you know what I like, I have no idea.”

Yoongi chuckles and lowers his eyes, “I guess you’re right”, he murmurs, “but still, maybe something changed and I just, I like you so much, I don’t wanna mess up and disappoint”, he says and pouts.

“Well then let’s figure out our bodies together”, you touch his chest, eliciting a breathy gasp from him. You run your hand to his side and place your nails against it. You dance them down softly then you go up again. Yoongi’s eyes threaten to close, hips rolling against yours on instinct. The sensation feels really good. He is hard in his pants, grinding the hardness up and down your core. It feels so nice and also hot.

“God ___ that’s so good”, he whispers shakily.

“Are your sides sensitive?”

He nods his head, melting closer. He begins kissing your neck again, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You let your eyes fall closed and bask in the sensation as your hands explore his torso.

His tummy is soft, it tenses when you run your fingers over it. Relaxing in a trembling breath a second later. You can feel it tickle your skin, it is warm if not hot even.

"___", he whispers, biting down on your earlobe softly.

"Oh? Oh okay", you laugh softly, "that’s good."

Yoongi purrs, dragging his lips over the shell of your ear.

"Your touch is so nice. Can’t get enough of it”, he whispers in that honey voice of his’.

He bites your earlobe gently, tugging on it just slightly. Like a chain reaction of sensations your shivers run all the way from your ear down to the tips of your toes.

"Yoongi I want to be shirtless", you confess in a breathless moan.

Yoongi’s head shoots up.

"Are you sure?"

You nod your head, reaching down to tug your sweater and shirt up. Yoongi watches it happen, breath hitching in his throat at the sight. You grunt quietly, fighting with the last few inches until finally they slip off your hair and arms. You open your eyes, meeting adoration in his gaze.

"You're so beautiful", he whispers, "fuck ___, I never want to stop looking at you."

You giggle, covering your chest with your hands.

"Okay now my bravery is kinda running out, help I acted way too quickly."

Yoongi chuckles. He sits up for a moment to take off his shirt, revealing yet another shirt to your eyes. A white t-shirt, loose fitted and slightly wrinkled.

"Yoongi", you wheeze, “you’re not serious. How many layers are you wearing?”

"I was cold", he whines with a pout and soon his face disappears under the shirt as he takes it off.

He slips out of it with a grunt, blinking quickly with his hair standing up in the front. You giggle. He is so cute.

“Sad, I expected another shirt”, you joke.

Yoongi fixes his hair and shivers. Goosebumps cover his fair skin in an instant.

"So cold", he whines, reaching for the blanket to pull it over his shoulders. Then he cuddles back into you, sharing his warmth with you.

"God Yoongi", you chuckle, "you're so dramatic, it's not even that cold."

"Yes it is. It’s freezing", he murmurs, nuzzling his cheek against your chest.

"Alright, alright it's cold", you give in with a fond roll of your eyes.

"Mhm", he lets out, turning his head so he could begin kissing your chest all over.

"Oh wow", you groan, head rolling to the side and veins tingling in electricity.

Yoongi was right. The blanket was a good idea. Oh you are so warm all snuggled into it and somehow it makes the sensations of his mouth even more intense. He kisses you, he kisses even the long scar under your breast where the doctors needed to go inside to fix your ribs. And he kisses it without mentioning it in any kind of way, as if it was just another part of your body which he wanted to worship. You don’t tell him, but you appreciate his silence so much.

Perhaps a reason for you not sleeping with anyone in the past four years – ignoring the fact that you weren’t actively seeking it in the first place – was the fact that some part of your brain was still too ashamed of your scars. You feared that if you bared yourself to someone and they would see your scars, you would have to explain yourself. And you really didn’t want to do that.

But Yoongi stays silent, placing featherlight kisses all over your scar before he moves on to another part of your chest like it was the most normal thing to do. You feel so appreciated. And so, so nice.

Yoongi sucks on the swell of your breast before lifting his head for the sole purpose of giving you a sweet gummy smile. You retort it, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. Then he lowers himself again, kissing a path up to your nipple. He hesitates, brushing his lips over it in an attempt to see your reaction.

You tense up in anticipation, arching into him.

That is all he needed to know. He parts his lips and wraps them around your nipple, caressing your other side with his big hand.

You let out a breathy laugh, ending it with a surprised moan and an arch of your back.

“Okay that’s - ha - that’s really nice.”

“Yeah?” his warm breath swirls over your skin, making you shiver. He hums and abandons your nipple for the sake of kissing the other. Not that he truly abandons it, the moment his lips take on their sweet journey to your other side his hand begins touching you skillfully.

“Mhhhm”, you purr contently, letting your head roll to the side. He makes you feel so warm between your legs. Oh, it’s so embarrassing because you can feel it stick to your pyjama pants as well. Hopefully it doesn’t soak his couch, gosh that would be devastating. Oh! Forget every worry you ever had, Yoongi using his teeth to bite down on your nipple gently is the only thing important. Or maybe it’s his right hand slowly but surely dancing down your stomach to the hem of your pants. You giggle nervously, making Yoongi raise his head.

“No?” he asks, pulling his hand away.

“I’m nervous.”

He nods in understanding, caressing your side for now.

“What do you want to do?”

You gnaw on your lower lip.

“Just tell me beautiful and I’ll do it”, he encourages you in a soft spoken voice, the kind which fills you with so much comfort that it’s almost unbearable.

“God Yoongi you-", you pause to cup his cheeks and squish them, “-stop being so sweet”, you say, squishing his cheeks more aggressively.

His pink lips stick out in a squished pout, his eyes become little slits as you squeeze his cheeks together. He chuckles deeply.

“Can I have my face back?” he asks fondly.

“Yeah, uhm”, you pull your hands back, “sorry, I just – I don’t know – I wanna keep touching it because I like it so much.”

He lowers his eyes shyly and blushes.

“Stop”, he murmurs.

“Why?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “just so.”

“Mhm, that’s not a reason”, you giggle, reaching out to stroke your palm over his cheek again and again, “I want to try it.”

“Tell me”, he says, nodding his head.

“Your hand”, you reach for it, “I want you to touch me down there”, you say and guide it down your stomach. Yoongi keeps his fingers relaxed so they would leave the softest of tickles behind.

He smiles and nods his head in understanding, caressing your lower stomach.

“Scoot over a little.”

You do as you are told, watching him with curiosity as he wiggles into the spot between you and the backrest of the couch. He sneaks one of his arms under your head, engulfing you in the safety of his chest. This is so close and intimate with both of you being shirtless that you feel your cheeks heat up. Skin against skin, not knowing which warmth belongs to you and which belongs to Yoongi. You truly never imagined how such sensations must feel like with him and yet they leave you so tingly and happy that it feels as if a wish was fullfilled.

“Are you comfortable?” he makes sure.

“Yeah very”, you whisper in awe, “the blanket was a good idea, it’s so snuggly.”

“Right? I told you it’s a good idea, but you wanted to nag”, he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair to kiss your ear softly.

You giggle, hiding your face in his chest. The bickering is cute, like a married couple and that is what you were. You were married and perhaps that is why you felt so comfortable with him. Because deep down you already knew that he was your other half.

You begin placing little kisses all over his skin at the aspect, feeling his blissful purr.

“Keep doing that beautiful”, he encourages you in a sigh, travelling his hand up and down your stomach and sides.

And so you continue, littering his chest with kisses and touching whatever parts of his sides you can reach. Yoongi sneaks his hand inside your pants, running his fingers down to your middle slowly. You part your legs for him, waiting for the sensation with bated breath.

He touches your entrance first, rolling slow circles on it to pick up your arousal.

“Oh? Okay”, you gasp, lifting your head to look into Yoongi’s eyes.

He gazes down at you and smiles, dancing his fingers up your core. One touch to your clit and you are squirming.

“Oh? Okay yeah okay”, you press out, widening your eyes.

“Is it nice?”

You nod your head vigorously, watching how it makes his pupils dilate.

“Good, relax beautiful, I’ll take care of you”, he rasps, closing his eyes and kissing your forehead.

You relax in his arms, basking in the sensations and feeling your head become dizzy at his scent. Now, you did touch yourself in the comfort of your own bedroom. You touched yourself many times actually and you like to claim that you are very good at it. But god diddly damn, it’s so different if someone else does it. The touch is laced with the exciting surprise of you not knowing where he will place it next. It leaves you shivering in the best ways possible.

“That feels really good”, you sigh and moan softly.

“Mhm, it feels good for me too. You’re so wet and soft”, he whispers, drawing figures of eight with his fingers.

“Yoongi can I touch you too?”

He groans quietly. Your words affected him, you know that they did because his fingers speed up on your clit.

“Y-yes”, he presses out, panting heavily in anticipation.

“Okay, here I come. Just tell me what to do”, you say, dancing your hand down his stomach until it disappears inside his pyjama pants.

He is so excited that he basically twitches into your hand, mewling softly when you wrap your fingers around him.

“Fuck ___”, he chokes out, bucking his hips up, “you’re so good.”

“But I haven’t even started.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You giggle and moan. Yoongi is toying with your entrance, the aspect of having his long fingers inside of you almost drives you insane.

“Can I finger you?” he asks in a rasp.

“Please”, you whisper, moving your hand up and down his length slowly.

Yoongi whimpers and slips two of his fingers inside of you. You keen and roll your hips into his touch, squeezing his cock on accident because the breach surprised you so much. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, it was just surprising because it felt so good. Fingering yourself is definitely not the same as getting fingered, because holy moly damn that feels amazing. Especially with the length of his fingers and the perfect girth of them. Yoongi also seems to have the perfect technique of rubbing his palm over your clit as he moves his fingers.

“Yoongi it’s so good”, you moan, resorting to squeaking softly afterwards.

“Yeah? Keep going too beautiful, your touch is perfect”, he encourages you, voice raspy and strained.

He is probably overhyping your touches. He is distracting you so much with his own touches that sometimes you forget to move your hand. Yoongi makes up for the loss of friction by rolling his hips into your hand slowly until you finally remember again that you needed to move as well and you begin jerking him off with a certain vigour in your touches. Yoongi moans deeply each time this happens, rewarding you with a mindnumbing curl of his fingers against your sensitive spot inside.

“Yoongi….”

“Mhm?”

You tilt your head up, chasing his lips. He understands wordlessly, leaning down to kiss you deeply. Oh his touch becomes so much better now that you are kissing him, making your toes curl and your limbs feel as if they were on fire. You hope that you feel better for him too, making sure to pay special attention to his tip.

Yoongi lets you know that you feel a thousand times better by moaning against your lips and darting his tongue out to chase your own. His fingers curl inside of you, your fingers squeeze around his hot tip and your tongues dance with each other sloppily. It quite frankly steals your sanity from you.

The blanket is becoming very hot on top of you, so hot that sweat pearls on your chest and tickles your skin as it runs down your sides. Yoongi seems to be hot as well, his skin is just that little bit damper as it presses against your own and his once ruffled bangs are matted. They are still messy though, he looks so good like that. It almost knocks the air out of you when you pull back for a quick breather and your eyes land on his handsome face. His dark eyes are even darker than usual, almost as if his pupils are so dilated that they are swallowing everything else. His nose is glowing prettily, carrying a rosy sheen to it. As do his cheeks and his swollen lips.

“You’re so pretty”, you whisper.

“Thanks”, he murmurs shyly, blushing even more.

You giggle and squeeze his tip, watching how it makes his brows knit in pleasure.

“Fuck baby you’re gonna make me cum”, he groans.

That does something inside of you. Your stomach tingles uncontrollably, your walls clench around his digits. You want this to happen. You want to see him lose himself. He would probably look so hot.

“Do it”, you rasp.

“Mhm, not yet”, he murmurs, claiming your lips in a passionate kiss. The kind that steals your breath away.

He keeps his fingers curled, moving them the slightest bit back and forth. You squeak, fighting for your air. It seems that Yoongi wants to see you lose yourself before he does. He is doing an amazing job at that, your stomach is tensing so much.

He breaks the kiss, panting against your lips.

“Are you close?” he asks.

“Yeah”, you squeak, legs shaking uncontrollably. There is too much pressure on your clit, his palm is too soft and warm. His fingers are too good, too long and skilled. He is actually going to make you cum.

“Whenever you are ready, beautiful”, he encourages you.

You gasp for air repeatedly, squeezing around his cock for the sole purpose of holding something. Not sexy if it wasn’t for Yoongi rutting into you desperately. He watches your eyelids flutter, feeling your walls clench around his digits.

“Come kiss me, let me taste your moans”, he rasps, making your legs shake with the way his fingers curl.

“Yoongi”, you choke out and stumble into the kiss.

It is sloppy, Yoongi gets more of your licks than actual kisses. He accepts them happily, swallowing your every moan as he curls his fingers against your magical spot once again. You squeak and shutter, everything gets too much for you.

“Yoongi.”

“Let go", he encourages you.

You break around his digits, hiding your face in his chest as your body spasms in fiery electricity.

“Oh god, what the hell”, you groan, shocked by how hard you are climaxing. It sits so deep, feels so hot, makes your stomach tense so much. This is the best. The literal best.

“That’s it, shit you’re so sexy”, he encourages you, helping you ride out your high with skilful movements of his hand.

You whimper, twitching one last time before finally opening your eyes again. Yoongi looks fucked, with his eyes blown out and his cheeks heated. Also his breathing is ragged, heart pounding against his ribcage.

“How was that?” he asks you, pulling his fingers free to caress your thigh.

You giggle, stomach bursting in feel good hormones. Yoongi smiles, placing a soft kiss on your ear.

“Good?”

“Yes, so good”, you whisper and place a kiss on his chest. It makes it rumble in one of his deep moans.

So you lift your head and look at him. He is breathing even heavier than he did before, squirming softly.

“What?” he asks you because the sudden smirk you are sporting confuses him.

You sit up and try to roll you and him over, doing so a lot more clumsily than you had wished for. He collides with the couch in a deep grunt. His head tangles over the edge, messy hair almost touching the floor.

“Oh shoot, sorry”, you gasp, “I wanted to be sexy.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi laughs raspily, “mission accomplished, fuck.”

You tingle in pride. He seems very into it, judging by the red spots covering his chest and his neck carrying a sheer layer of sweat. He rests his hands on his stomach, long fingers still glistening in your juices.

“You’re really hot”, you tell him.

“You too”, he rasps, swallowing heavily. His fingers run over his own stomach mindlessly. The view taunts you. Especially because it leads to the very prominent dent in his pants. You don’t really have the desire to see dicks, because they aren’t really exciting to you, but it feels different with him. You really want to see him. So much so that you are almost going crazy at not being able to see him.

You hook your fingers in the hem of his pants and pull it down far enough to make his cock spring free.

“Huh?” his head shoots up, lips parting in shock.

It is just as pretty as the rest of him, his tip is glistening with his arousal. Also it matches with his hands, oh so many veins. Very sexy. You think that his dick is very exciting to look at.

You give him a playful smirk, wrapping your fingers around his length to jerk it off quickly.

“Fuck”, he moans, dropping his head back and fucking his hips into your hand, “holy f-fuck.”

Maybe it is muscle memory but somehow your fingers know exactly where to touch him. You also think that he has such a nice cock. A very nice cock. Very reactive and so pink, just like his lips. Said lips are currently parted widely, letting the most sinful of noises free. Deep grunts, breathy gasps, high-pitched whimpers. For someone who has such a deep voice he has an impressive range if only you touch the right spots.

You roll your thumb over his frenulum, twisting your wrist afterwards.

“How's that?” you ask him, repeating your movements.

“Good”, he lulls, bucking his hips up. He wraps his long fingers around your wrist and squeezes softly.

His body trembles, his cock throbs. You dance your fingers up to his tip again and massage it quickly.

Yoongi twitches with his entire body before a guttural moans rolls off his tongue aggressively. Your eyes flit to his face, fingers working on their own. You find it peculiar just how sexy he can actually be. How your cute and sweet neighbour looks like sex personified now that you have him shaking under your touch. His lids are opened halfway, giving view to his rolled back eyes. His lips are parted and swollen, glistening in his saliva. And his neck is shimmering in a sheer layer of sweat, muscles flexed in the position.

One roll of your thumb over his slit and he is twitching again.

“I’m cumming”, he chokes out, letting go of your wrist to grasp the edge of the sofa instead.

“Do it”, you encourage him, welcoming his high with quick jerks of your hand.

Yoongi groans and spasms, covering his tensed stomach in his seed. It runs down his length, collecting all between your fingers as well. This is so hot, this is so hot. Oh you want to continue. This is so hot.

“Wait, wait”, Yoongi laughs panicky, trembling fingers reaching for your hand, “slow.”

You don’t listen, jerking him off with madness in your eyes. He mewls and squirms, trying his hardest to pull your hand away.

“Please ___", he begs, gasping for air.

Faster. His cock is so hard and twitches so much. There must be more for you. He must have more to offer.

Yoongi laughs panicky, twisting the sofa pillow.

“Please slow”, he begs squeakily, “mercy please”, he is laughing by now, tugging on your wrist again, "fuck ___ please", he presses out, writhing desperately. He is twitching with his entire body, forcing cut off laughs and gasps out of him.

His other hand reaches for you, gripping you with such strength it surprises you.

"Slow", he drags the word out, squeezing you with trembling fingers.

It is enough to clear your mind from the hungry madness you are feeling. You slow down your movements, blinking quickly. He guides your movements, smooth rolls up and down his cock.

“That’s better, it’s too sensitive otherwise”, he says and sighs, “god beautiful, you just made me cum so hard”, he says and laughs, covering his eyes with his arm, “fuck.”

You touch his tip and squeeze gently. He hisses, twitching away.

“___”, he complains in a laugh, lifting himself with the help of his abs, “I’m sensitive.”

You pull your hand away, “sorry, it’s just so much fun to touch you.”

“Mhm”, he hums, drawing closer to cup your cheek and kiss your lips softly, “you’re still as cruel as you were in the past.”

“Yeah? Did I do that often?” you ask him, wrapping your fingers around his cock again to give him quick jerks.

Yoongi whimpers, twisting your hair at the nape of your neck, “please no more.”

You twist your hand on his overly sensitive tip, forcing a moaned laugh out of him.

“___ baby", he chokes out, taking a hold of your torturing hand to squeeze it.

You giggle, burying your nose in the crook of his neck. You push him back on the sofa, pulling the blanket over your bodies and snuggling into him tightly. Yoongi just let’s it happen, melting like ice cream in the sun.

“That was lots of fun", you say and giggle, touching his inner thighs for now.

“Agreed, I love being with you. I really missed it.”

You smile, trailing kisses up and down his neck.

Yoongi shudders and pulls you closer, inhaling your scent.

“Fuck ___ I actually missed you so fucking much. Those last few months without you were horrible”, he murmurs into the crook of your neck, hugging you to his body and rolling over on the sofa with you so he could cuddle you tightly.

“Agreed. I was so lonely on most days.”

"Same, especially on Tuesday."

"Yes", you agree, nodding your head vigorously, "you have to come by again from now on. I'll make you so much tea and you can eat your egg sandwich and we have tangerine tarts on our menu these days. You have to come eat them."

"I will. Tangerine tart sounds amazing, I can’t wait to try it."

"Yes, me too."

You kiss his hair and close your eyes. It is so warm and cuddly now that your blanket is wrapped around you so snugly and Yoongi holds you so tightly.

Yoongi exhales his breath shakily and squeezes you softly. He is in heaven. This is paradise.

“Yoongi?”

“Mhm?”

"I'm glad I had you as a husband. If you were as sweet as you are ever since I met you then I was a very lucky woman. It’s so nice to know that I had you in my past."

Yoongi squeezes your middle and squeaks.

“Don’t say that”, he murmurs, clearly fighting with his tears.

“It’s the truth, you’re such a sweet man and you bring so much comfort into my life. Falling in love with you was so easy and felt so comfortable.”

“Stop that.”

You laugh, squeezing him.

“You’re so cute.”

Yoongi lifts his head to gaze at you. His beautiful eyes are filled with unshed tears and yet they are sparkling in unconditional love for you.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance”, he whispers.

You smile.

“I’d do it again."

#yoongi smut #yoongi romance #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts smut #bts romance #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan romance #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: only yesterday

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nctsjiho · 2 years ago

Text

What Kind Of Person Is JiHo (By NCT)

Fan Video By “GeeGeeGeeGeo” On Youtube

(indented text = comments added by the maker of the video) Hi everyone, my name is GeeGeeGeeGeo, and if you follow my on Twitter you might now me and my friends/followers have been working on a fan project for JiHo. During fansigns we tried to ask each member “What kind of person is JiHo (to you)” and we got almost all members’ answers.

I hope you enjoy this video and we hope that maybe JiHo gets to stumble upon this video and see how much her members care for her.

[Taeyong, ‘Favorite’ era fansign]

“JiHo?” he giggles and seems a bit surprised by the mention of JiHo’s name. “She’s a very hardworking and strong person. I think she can be a great role model to people as well. She’s very caring.”

[Taeil, ‘Favorite’ era fansign]

“JiHo?”

“Yes, what kind of person is she to you?”

Taeil thinks about it for a second while he signs the album on the table in front of him. “She’s a scary young sister.” Both him and the fan laugh. “But a sister I want to have around for forever.”

Taeil and JiHo moments are rare which is why I treasure moments like these a lot TT

[Johnny, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“She’s a pain in the a— butt,” he laughs loudly. “No, but really she’s a very kind person. I’m glad I’ve met her and that she’s in NCT. Sharing a stage with her is always a lot of fun.”

[Yuta, ‘Favorite’ era fansign]

“I think she’s actually mad at me currently?”

“Why?” the fan asks.

“I think she’s jealous I love Mark so much. You didn’t know that right?”

“What?”

“That JiHo can get really jealous about trivial things? I honestly don’t think it bothers her, but she likes to make me feel bad and uses a lot of aegyo towards the hyungs/oppas. She’s really cute, but only with the people she’s comfortable showing that side to. I’m grateful I’m one of those people.”

[Doyoung, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“She’s like my real sister. Really annoying sometimes, but I care for her a lot. JiHo is someone who gives a lot, even if it’s in very subtle ways. She gives you time and comfort. She gives you exactly what you need to feel better. But JiHo is hard at taking, she won’t let you help her fully. So I think she isn’t 100% [happy] at any given time. She’s a kind person... A one of a kind person.”

YES DOYOUNG MAKE ME UGLY CRY

[Jaehyun, (no idea when this fansign was...)]

“To me? She appreciates my humor. I think that says enough.“

idk what we expected from Jaehyun, but this seems about right TT

[Jungwoo, ‘Favorite’ era fansign]

“She’s a fun person. I don’t know how Czennies see JiHo, but she’s really fun to be around. Sometimes she’s really scary though...”

[Mark, ‘Glitch Mode’ era fansign]

“That’s interesting that you would ask about her during my fansign.” He smirks and quickly starts laughing. “I’m just messing with you. JiHo is... JiHo is JiHo, I don’t know what to tell you.” He laughs again. “I think JiHo is an unique person you only get to understand if you know her. Even then! I don’t think I fully understand her, but I guess that’s her charm.”

ever the poetic Mark

[Haechan, ‘Favorite’ era fansign]

“JiHo is the type of person I want to tease, but I’m scared she’d get mad at me,” he chuckles sheepishly. “JiHo cares a lot for the younger members, but I see she cares about the older members a lot too.”

“Who does she care the most for?”

With a smirk her answers, “me.”

Dream on Haechannie, we all know the actual answer is Jisung, Chenle and Sungchan

[Renjun, ‘Glitch Mode’ era fansign]

“JiHo?, shouldn’t you be asking about me?”

“I’m sorry—”

“No don’t worry!” he laughs. “JiHo is someone who listens really well. Even if it looks like she didn’t listen or doesn’t care, she always does. Sometimes she surprises me or the other members with random things that we even forgot we said out loud. She’s someone I would feel comfortable confiding in.”

“Have you ever confided in her?”

Renjun nods and smiles, “I talked about my therapy before, right? Well I didn’t know JiHo that well back then, but now sometimes she’ll ask me to do art together and we’ll just talk to each other for hours. Sometimes she’ll just listen to me the whole time.”

crying rn

[Jeno, ‘Hot Sauce’ era fansign]

He immediately smiles brightly at the question. “She’s someone who despite having a hard time will make sure you are doing well. I think she’s a bit careless with herself at times. After you get to know her, she’s the kind of person you just want to be okay, because worrying about her or having a reason to worry about her is the hardest thing to go through.”

[Jaemin, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“She’s cute. She’s sweet. She’s nice to everyone. She’s a good person.’

[Chenle, ‘Beatbox’ era fansign]

“The kind of person that you don’t want to get on her bad side.”

“Are you speaking out of experience?” the fan asks and both of them laugh.

“Not really, but I’ve seen her get annoyed a handful of times and it’s really scary. She’s such a nice person in general, so when she gets angry it’s really something you don’t want.”

[Jisung, ‘Glitch Mode’ era fansign]

“Noona is so small, but very strong. She’s like those small dogs that big dogs are scared of, you know?”

“Are you and the boys those big dogs?”

Jisung chuckles awkwardly, “sometimes?” The fan laughs loudly at his answer. “But I’d love noona to be my real big sister.”

[Kun, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“JiHo is an amazingly talented person. I’m always amazed when I see her working, but she’s also very down to earth. I think out of all the NCT members that come over to our [Wayv’s] dorm, I like JiHo the best. She’s very respectful with other people’s spaces and life’s and never pries too much.”

“Are the other members not respectful?”

“Oh, they are, but sometimes they get a bit too comfortable... Actually JiHo might get too comfortable as well sometimes... Maybe I’m biased?”

Yes, Kun. Yes you are biased.

[Xiaojun, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“Huh?”

“What kind of person is JiHo?”

“You’re asking me so suddenly?” Confused, Xiaojun still answers, “JiHo’s a great person. She’s really talented and very nice to everyone. She talks a lot with WayV and tries to make everyone feel heard and involved. She’d be a great leader.”

[Hendery, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“She’s a fun person to be around,” he tells the fan as he signs his album.

“Are you still awkward with her?”

“No! Aaah... That was so long ago. JiHo and I are a lot closer now, we even play games together a lot.”

“Is she as good as everyone says?”

“She’s even better then Chenle.”

[Yangyang, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

Yangyang fakes an expression of disgust before laughing. “I’m kidding. JiHo is a good person. She’s like a sister to me to be honest. Not that I want her to be my sister, but it just feels like we’ve grown up with each other. I don’t know how to explain it, I’m just comfortable around her.”

[Shotaro, ‘NCT 2021-Universe’ era fansign]

“She’s like an older sister and a younger sister at the same time. She takes really good care of us, cooks for us, is really protective sometimes, but she is also really cute and small. I just want to take care of her. She’s really cool on stage, but outside of schedules and work she can be really energetic and weird and funny. I’m glad we work together.”

“Would you want to be in a unit with her?”

“That would be a dream. I think if she was in a unit with me I would always feel safe and comfortable.”

SM debut Sungtaro with JiHo, I’m literally begging you (┬┬﹏┬┬)

[Sungchan, this was during one of his modelling thingy fansigns]

“Noona is great. She helps a lot of people, but she should take care of herself as well. She’s someone I’d love to go on a trip with. I think that would be fun.”

“Where with you go to? And would it be only you two?”

“I’d love to go to France and other places in Europe with her. And I think going with Shotaro hyung would be nice, but even just the two of us would be a lot of fun.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this video, this was a long time in the making and we still couldn’t get all the members in here, but this was a big majority and we wanted to get this out here. Thank you for watching <3

---

masterlists: main masterlist || jiho.writings masterlist

#jiho.video #nct 24th member #nct addition #nct female member #nct imagines #nct extra member #nct additional member #nct female addition #nct added member #nct additions #kpop!addition #kpop!oc

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bushdivingbushranger · 3 years ago

Note

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

#this is so long sorry #long post #radfem safe #separatism #radfem

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kuroosweakness · 4 years ago

Text

kiss kiss | sakusa kiyoomi <3

this is the my favorite sakusa mini fic i’ve written yet :)) and my longest work! over 2000 words!

“i don’t think i’ll ever understand the concept of kissing,” sakusa mumbles to komori as he leans down to tie his shoes. his shoes are already tied, but he needs to do something to hide his face for a couple of seconds. naturally, his curls fall to the sides of his face, just as he expected.

komori quickly whirls around with a :) and a :0 face combined. “what was that??” he teases and crouches down to see his cousin’s hidden face.

“i was just sayin’“ sakusa shrugs off. “it’s just people touching lips and sharing saliva. it’s disgusting. why people do it? i’ll never understand.” after dusting off his hands, sakusa gets up from the bench and stands up, having forgotten his tall height and head bumping right into a light.

sakusa grimaces and rubs his head, trying his best to pretend it didn’t hurt at all. “stupid light,” he grumbles as he walks away. komori watches on, trying his best not to laugh while making a mental note to watch out for the low lights.

~~~

“komori.”

“hiya!” komori looks up at his cousin while continuing to stretch out his legs.

“...have you ever kissed anyone?”

“...like, full on make-out?” komori quietly asks as he makes kissy hands to demonstrate. sakusa immediately frowns and crouches down.

“stop making those weird gestures,” sakusa quietly scolds. “it’s embarrassing...”

“what’s there to be embarrassed about?” komori softly chuckles while nervously scratching the back of his head. “why do you ask?”

sakusa’s eyes divert away. “...just curious to know.”

“well....” komori taps his chin in thought. “there’s this one friend i’ve kissed before. but it wasn’t anything too serious...”

sakusa looks at the ground below him, wondering if he should sit his whole butt down or keep crouching. he decides to keep asian-squating. “so how’d you initiate the kiss? like what did you do?”

“...i think we’re supposed to be practicing receives right now,” komori sheepishly says while pointing at their teammates all practicing. the bump sounds and shoe creaks suddenly becomes audible to sakusa.

“oh.” and with that, sakusa gets up and walks toward the pile of volleyballs.

~~~

“remember the question i asked you last week?” sakusa breathes through his mask as he and komori jogs down the streets. he’s overly dressed for a jogger, especially in spring. everyone’s surprised he can move so freely in such a heavy jacket.

“...what..... question?” komori asks, glancing at his cousin before looking back at the road in front of them.

“you know what question.”

“...i dont?” komori pants as he slows down his jogging pace.

“the question....that....made you...do weird hand....gestures”

“ohhhh the kissing question?”

sakusa nods and moves to the side to avoid the kids walking toward them.

“i’ve already told you....i’ve only kissed one person before. say, why’re you curious in my love life?” komori teasingly elbows sakusa as they come to a walking pace.

sakusa annoyingly elbows him back. “is it so bad i want to know?”

“it’s just not like you,” komori chuckles. at the sight of a bakery in front of them, his eyes immediately lightens up. “we should go there!!”

sakusa’s eyes meet where komori’s pointing, then meets komori’s face, wondering if his cousin will share answers if he agrees. “okay. but back to my question about initiating the kiss.”

“well, you’ll have to find someone you want to kiss first,” komori laughs. “and i don’t think you’ve found that person, judging from the way you always judge couples and bad breath.”

“don’t be so quick to assume things,” sakusa grumbles under his mask.

“anywaysss, you kinda have to know that the other person wants to kiss you too, ya’know?”

“i don’t know,” sakusa dryly says, stating out the obvious.

“yeah, tell me something i didn’t know,” komori replies and opens the bakery front door. waves of freshly baked bread fill their noses. komori dramatically inhales and exhales. sakusa lowers his mask. a little “ding” rings as the door opens and closes.

“it’s so warm in here!” komori happily exclaims. “you sure you’re not gonna became toast yourself with that jacket on?”

sakusa rolls his eyes.

“back to the kissing topic,” komori starts. “consent is really important! you have to make sure they want to kiss you. and to know, just before kissing, you have to ask.”

“lower your voice,” blushy-faced sakusa mumbles. “there’s people looking at us weirdly.”

“not at me weirdly,” komori remarks. “just at you!”

“i don’t know why i talk to you sometimes.”

“i’ll pretend i didn’t hear that!” komori happily bounces over to the counter and tells the pretty cashier his order. “kiyoomi, you want anything?”

“no, not really.”

“okay!” komori excitedly accepts his paper bag full of baked goods and eagerly munches into a chocolate croissant. “i was thinking that maybe we can stop and eat for a while”

komori eating = less judgmental komori. who is he kidding, sakusa knows he himself is the most judgmental person he knows. “okay”

as sakusa pulls out a seat facing away from the door, a little “ding” rings through the bakery.

“oh look!” komori munches. “it’s y/n! hi y/n!”

sakusa’s stomach drops. his hands have never felt so clammy and cold before. maybe if he stays completely still, then you won’t notice him.

“hi y/n!” komori calls again.

“we’re going home. stop- stop stop stop we’re going home. i need to go home,” sakusa hastily mutters under his breath and gets up so fast, suddenly wishing his mask can cover his whole face. since you’re standing at the doorway, he waits until you walk inside to walk out.

komori quickly gathers his stuff and says a quick apology to you. “sorry about him! well, we’ll catch ya later!”

confused, yet unfazed, you give him a little smile and waves back.

~~~

“so how was it?”

“...not good,” sakusa’s face and curls fall into his hands. he groans and falls back on the his bed. “anyways, i need to study-”

“no no no, i need to know!” komori insists. “most people’s first kiss isn’t that great so...you’re not the only one.”

“how am i even supposed to see them again,” sakusa groans again and squirms around on the bedsheets. “it was so bad. so bad. so so bad. so so sooooo bad-”

“do you have thoughts about kissing them again??”

“yes,” he mumbles and swiftly grabs the nearest pillow and hugs it to his chest, hiding his face in the process. “all the damn time.”

“then it didn’t go as bad as i thought!” komori exclaims.

~~~

“so you’re not gonna tell me how it went?”

“why’re you so nosy???” sakusa scrunches up his nose.

“you were the one who asked about my first kiss first,” komori defends, pulling back in playful offense.

“like i said, it wasn’t good.”

“how was it not good?”

“the kissing tutorial videos didn’t work.”

“....you watched kissing tutorials????!!”

“komori motoya, if you don’t be quiet i swear-”

“did they at least want to kiss you?”

“...i don’t even know if we’re...together. this is so embarrassing. i was too impatient. i shouldn’t have. i rushed things. they didn’t even tell me they like me. what if they just went along with it and didn’t actually want-”

“i think you’re overthinking too much...”

“can we just walk to school in silence?”

“after you tell me first! i can give advice!”

“i nearly missed their lips. and i froze up when we actually made contact. i was stiff. i couldn’t move. plus my mask shifted upward and completely interrupted us, which i’m kinda thankful for.”

komori stifles a laugh. “so...what’re you gonna do for your second one?”

~~~

“i saw them with his stupid, ugly guy who if you put his teeth next to a beaver’s, no one would be able to tell the difference.”

“....we all know you’re not the nicest person, but isn’t that a little mean..and a bit of an exaggeration?” komori chuckles and shifts his foot inside his volleyball shoes.

“they have poor, poor taste in men.”

“well...they did kiss you once...”

“i don’t know anymore,” sakusa sighs. “i need to just focus on volleyball.”

~~~

“i hate it here. absolutely hate. it. here.” with a grumble he tosses his clothes on his backpack and pads across the gym to get his water bottle.

komori side-eyes his cousin. whether or not to ask what he’s talking about, even though he knows exactly what–no, who–he’s talking about.

“is this volleyball related?” komori asks when sakusa walks back.

...

“you’ve never given up anything you’ve set your heart on,” komori kindly reminds him. “so why’re you giving up now?”

“because all the things i’ve done, i was in completely control of” sakusa swings his backpack over his shoulder. “i can’t control other people’s feelings....nor do i want to.”

“did something bad happen?” komori dashes to catch with his cousin, and the tea.

“guess who i saw them with again? beaver guy.”

“i heard they’re just classmates though,” komori gently reminds sakusa, hoping it’ll somewhat clear his senses. he jogs toward a mini puddle and jumps right into it. sakusa grimaces at the water splashes.

“it doesn’t matter. i don’t care about them anymore. they can have beaver guy so they want. i’m one of the best volleyball players in the country, and i’m ...somewhat good looking, and i’m tall...their loss.”

komori searches for more puddles.

“is it because of my personality?” sakusa quietly says. when he sees his cousins jumping into more puddles, he rolls his eyes. “komori, i’m being serious here”

“when are you not?” komori calls back. he jogs back to sakusa and says, “what makes you think it’s your personality?”

“well....let’s not talk about it.”

“...” komori glares at him.

“well....they’re all smiles around other people and like :/ around me. and y’know, my cleanliness. not that i would change for anyone, but i’m just sayin’”

“if they really liked you then, you wouldn’t want you to change. although, you can be nicer sometimes....just a little” komori cheekily says.

“...you’re right,” sakusa sighs.

~~~

“update: beaver guy’s no longer in their life. he tried to make a move on them and they didn’t like it so they cut him out of their life.”

“wait whaaat? it’s been days since you last talked about y/n. what-”

“can you not say their name so loud???”

“so beaver guy pulled a move on them?”

“yes. and they cut him off because he took advantage of their niceness.”

“...”

“so technically what happened to beaver guy also happened to me.”

komori shakes his head. “y/n hasn’t cut you out of their life....they still talk to you sometimes! and even asked if you wanted to walk home, which you-”

he points an accusing finger at sakusa. “which you said no to >:(”

“don’t point, it’s rude.” sakusa looks away.

“what’d you say no???”

“i didn’t want to appear desperate.”

~~~

“so...how long are you gonna stare at the ceiling? we’re supposed to be doing measurements right now.”

“oh sorry,” sakusa slightly bows down and quietly adds, “i walked them home yesterday.”

komori loudly gasps, which he apologizes for when everyone turns to look at him. “whaaat,” he whispers. “what happened?”

“i walked them home and then walked myself home, that’s what happened.”

“you’ve gotta be kidding me. give the details!”

“there’s nothing too important that happened. other than my confession.”

._. “and you’re saying nothing important happened??”

“turns out they like...me...too” sakusa stutters. his ears are bright red. “i feel like i’m gonna throw up.” sakusa’s hands presses against his stomach.

“the good kinda throw up?”

“there’s no such thing as a ‘good throw up’“ sakusa barks back.

~~~

“y/n looked really happy and cheerful today and so do you...which i thought i’d never see...”

normally, sakusa would jab his cousin if he heard that, but today, he chooses to ignore it.

“so what’s going on??”

“nothing much. just some kissing,” sakusa says. his whole face is glowing.

“remember when you said kissing was gross?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” sakusa brushes off. “and you better not tell y/n i think they’re gross when i clearly don’t >:(”

~~~

“hand-holding huhhhh?”

“their hands were cold, that’s why.”

“why am i so invested in your relationship,” komori softly chuckles to himself. “y’all are cute.”

“it does feel nice to have someone to talk to about these things,” sakusa quietly says. komori pulls back in surprise.

“well, i’ll always be here for ya! but don’t you dare try rubbing your relationship in my face.”

“i’d never. i know what it’s like to be single.”

“???? that’s the most non-sympathetic thing i’ve ever heard! obviously, everyone knows what it feels like to be single” komori rolls his eyes.

~~~

“people are saying y/n’s dating me for my money.”

“ignore them >:(”

“people keep saying that y/n probably get no action and that i don’t even touch them.”

“like i said, ignore those stupid people”

“i wish it can be that easy,” sakusa sighs.

~~~

“i’ve lost track of how many times i’ve kissed them.”

komori jokingly pulls back in disgust. “no one keeps track, dummy.”

“i’d say about 43 times”

~~~

and now sakusa kisses you like he’s a starved man who hasn’t eaten in days 😐 basically, engulfing you. long, passionate kisses that gets your heart pounding every time.

and that’s it for now :)) tell me what you think! <3

#sakusa x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu fluff #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #komori motoya #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq x you #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #lia drabbles

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