#and now i legit feel like throwing up again

[allwormdiet]

Arc 9: Sentinel, Concluding Thoughts

Remarkably, an entire arc where the POV isn't Taylor Hebert is still a pretty bad time for those involved.

I like the Brockton Wards, mostly. Vista is by far my favorite of the bunch because she's cooler than all of them and also a middle schooler, and honestly that's super fucked up. I like Clockblocker, Weld, Flechette, I got a little annoyed with Kid Win being so down on himself but he was basically fine, and Shadow Stalker.

I'm sure we're going to get more Shadow Stalker in the next arc or two, unless they just bury her in wet cement next chapter which I kind of doubt, but I want it now because I am desperate to find out what the fuck happened to make her the kind of person who legit buys into alpha/beta crap to the point of murdering people over it. Taylor hasn't killed anyone yet and this entire serial is about how she justifies ever-increasing acts of violence to respond to problems caused in no small part by her previous acts of violence; Vista getting first blood before her is a fucking tragedy and Shadow Stalker having multiple kills notched is a horror story. I need this to make sense, and also if we can avoid more weird racist connotations in making sense of this that would be great.

Didn't love the Travelers fight, like I mentioned. The investment wasn't really there for me, there weren't really any stakes to it so the whole thing was just kind of a space filler.

Shocked that the Slaughterhouse Nine are being signposted as early as this, too. Not that I'd put it past them to be in the Bay within a month of Leviathan, but I continue to be surprised at Worm's pacing. I don't think I'm gonna love that part of the story but if I can hold my nose through every interaction with Coil, I can probably handle the Nine.

Vista is. Okay for real though, what the fuck is happening with the Protectorate/PRT and throwing this middle schooler into constant life-or-death situations. She was at Leviathan, which, okay sure, pull out all the stops when the alternative is complete annihilation, make the birthday girl kill a man to put fifteen seconds on the game clock while we're at it. She was at the Empire's murderous tantrum alongside other Wards and New Wave, which I guess is because she's one of the only heroes whose powers can keep up with all the flyers in the Empire? Still wild choice there. She was instrumental in the disarmament of Bakuda's magnum opus mega-EMP along with Clockblocker, and I know he's the big name for the team but why didn't they just put Armsmaster on that to tinker the problem away? I feel like putting EOD duty on the teenaged public figures is an incorrect call someone made. I'd love to find out who, and maybe throw pieces of brickwork at them while they have to hold still. Can somebody stop throwing this girl into horrific combat scenarios as a government-employed child?

I'm going to keep pointing and laughing at Coil though, because the man is literally only succeeding at his infiltration of the PRT because they're letting him, and now he's only going to have a Ward as his own personal mole because they're letting him. Man wants to control an entire city and the whole thing would collapse if a single government organization stopped letting him take Ws he thought he earned.

I want to read those summaries of the studies done on that Dallon-Pelham clan though. Desperate to know if whatever insane WASP nuclear family nightmare goes on in those homes leaked into the research papers.

And then yeah, looking back at the ambush with Sophia. I was really glad to see the squad again, honestly, and it's great to see them working together, especially to take down a killer gunning for their own. A little funny that Sophia prides herself so highly for being a hunter of men and she fell for a classic ambush without even blinking.

Guess we get to find out what that's all building up to in the next arc, eh?

[talkingwithstraykids]

do you ever have that moment that reminds that you aren’t okay.

[ford-ye-fiji]

don’t get me wrong I love ghibli movies but what on earth is happening in tales of earthsea????

[spikeisawesome456]

.

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Day whatever the hell we're on now! 330, apparently. Which is an hour before the cat woke me up by screaming in my ear because he was out of food and water. Which, fair, that's a good reason to scream, but at 4:30 am and in my ear?! Jerk cat.

Anyway, Disgusted got redone and I'm happy enough with it that it's now inked and has the beginnings of color worked out! Tomorrow I'll finish that up, and then some time after that I'll figure out what to do with Shocked/Surprised and Silly.

Also, I made food!

I had a spare sweet potato and needed to use the last pound of beef from a 3lb tube of it I'd been using for Hamburger Helper beef stroganoff. Also included is creamed corn, beef ramen, garlic powder, onion powder, onion salt because I ran out of onion powder and it needed more salt anyway, black pepper, and soy sauce. It turned out tasty, but it also didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. If I do this again, I think next time I'm gonna cook the sweet potatoes first, then the beef, use beef broth instead of water to actually cook the things in, and add in some nice Parmesan cheese. Or I may just do it as a risotto; maybe fresh onion instead of powder will tie everything together better. Either way, I liked the taste and learned a couple things about cooking beef with sweet potatoes! Yay, me!

[penisliker-moved]

i did Not Start feeling better lol.i feel worse

[bellewintersroe]

I just read the fernando headcannons and OMGGGG. The nsfw ones babe 😭😭 can you maybe write a NSFW nando fanfic??? Well maybe he's all riled up or something. Honestly Idc just a NSFW nando fanfic after reading the headcannons..😫

so glad you enjoyed, I loveeee writing for Nando, especially when it’s spice 😏 not sure if this is what you have in mind but I hope it does justice to the headcanons…

Fernando Alonso x Reader - Smut! Fernando gets wound up after a race gone wrong. Lucky for him you’re waiting for him nearby in the hotel room where he takes his frustration out in a more… intimate manner. tw- smutty smut legit just porn- the story goes straight to the point so yeah 18+ - talks of penetration, dirty talk, spanking, oral- everything. So sorry this is only short 🫶🏼.

“Fuck, Nando!” She sobbed, cheek pressed to the mattress, Nando’s hand pressed on her head, pinning her down as his fingers gritted together, tightening in her hair. She was on the verge of tears, sobbing and writhing in pleasure as her fiancé worked hard on top of her, back arched with her ass in the air for him. Fernando fucked into her mercilessly, he’d found a rather healthier way to let out his frustration, in a way both of them enjoyed. It worked a treat, as soon as she saw him all red faced and tense she knew exactly what to give him. Now, he’d taken charge, knelt on the bed, hips thrusting into hers like a piston as his teeth gritted, eyes scrunched shut. Nando was trembling, Y/n could feel that, his pants had soon turned into grunts and growls with each push of his rock hard cock into her tight whole.

“Muy bien. todo mimo.” (So fucking good, all mine). He struggled between squeezing his eyes shut from the blinding pleasure and watching her, the way her ass bounced on his cock, the beautiful expressions she’d make. Nando let out a louder groan, throwing his head back as he threw his whole body into each thrust, the bed beginning to squeak and thud against the wall with every movement.

It was so hot- too hot, she could feel each time the tip of his cock would hit deep inside her, one hand moved to rub at her clit and she cursed with such intensity feeling Nando work harder inside her tightening pussy. “Harder, Nando- m’ gonna fucking cum.” She wept with a moan that could wake up the whole hotel. Nando’s growled again, yanking her hips harsher into him, spurred on with the desperate moans and pleads which escaped her mouth. She’d never had anything or anybody so good, Nando was so riled up and so focused on the blinding pleasure he lost all control. She found it so fucking sexy, and when the intensity peaked in her stomach, she came undone with a yell only muffled by the bedsheets. Fernando panted, quickly, pulling her hair back so he could hear vividly every single noise she made.

Her legs trembled with each wave of her orgasm, she was moaning incoherently, head pulled back by the man behind her who hissed at the gush of her pussy against his cock. “Tan bueno. Buena niña.” (So good. Good girl). Nando praised in his native tongue, feeling his desperation only build further at the feeling of her pussy tightening around his thick cock. He could feel each throb of her pussy, each tremor, each time she whined. He was so deep inside her, sighing in ecstasy at the sound of her wetness around him. Nando let go of her hair, soothing over her scalp as she collapsed to the bed with a huff. “You made me cum so fucking hard for you, Nando.” She muttered, voice again muffled by the bedsheets as she shook her ass. Nando wasn’t done yet, he flipped her over, already feeling the calmness spread through him to see her giggle. His face was flushed and he was sweating, hair slightly sticking to his damp forehead. “Are you ok?” The Spaniard checked. “Yeah.” She’d smile in reassurance, fingers coming to dance down his spine, over his tattoo. He wasted no time kissing her again, guiding his cock inside her once again. “M’ so wet for you, god.” She cooed, irresistibly sexy as Nando’s eyes were locked on her face. He thrusted slower, hands gentle this time, as were his kisses. “Are you gonna cum for me now, Nando?” She hushed as he shuddered, pulling her legs further apart gently.

“Yes.” He hushed with a shaky sigh. “Fuck me like you did before, I fucking loved it.”

“Chica sucia.” (Dirty girl). Nando muttered. “Please, I love it.” She pressed a kiss to his jawline and it was enough for Nando to begin thrusting into her harder than he previously was. The slide of his huge cock inside her wasn’t fathomable, Nando was not surprisingly fucking amazing at this, and when his hand slapped her cheek before pinning against her neck again, they both let out a deep groan, knowing he was nearing his high. “Harder, Nando, fuck! Cum inside me. Fuck, make me all yours, Nando!” As the intensity picked up, so did the noise levels. Nando could no longer choke back the moans as he did before, he was straight up moaning and wasn’t ashamed about it. He fucked Y/n deeper, harder, faster into the mattress fists clenched as his whole body began to shake again, tense and almost bursting for release. “Please.” He hushed to nobody in particular, growling as he gripped at the bed sheets harder. “Yes, yes, yes, cum for me!” Oh fuck. Nando couldn’t control it any longer, he lost all control and felt himself beginning to cum deep inside her. His orgasm was so good he collapsed on top of her, letting out a groan with each rope of cum he shot deep inside her. “Oh my god, oh- fuck, Nando.” She hushed, fingers grazing down his neck as he shuddered again, rocking his hips ever so gently to milk the last of her pleasure. Only when he came back to earth did he notice the slight redness forming around her neck, Nando sighed, lips immediately pressing to the area. “I’m sorry, was that too much?” “No, not at all. I loved it… are you ok now?” She smiled, kissing his temple lovingly. “So much better.”

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

I'll come pick it up after, the end

John Egan X Female! Reader

Sumarry: It's finally their wedding day...

Warning: Historical inaccuracies/ full/ might not be accurate to real weeding speech in the 40s/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1,2k

The day had finally come, their wedding day. She was nervous, but she was able to go to London to buy a wedding dress, with Daisy and Elodie. Her dress was simple, it stopped before her ankles and it had long sleeves. She didn’t want an extravagant wedding dress, they were getting married on the base, they weren’t Catholics, but the priest on the base was going to marry them, so it’ll be legit. She’d ask Crosby to walk her down the aisle, Buck was the best men, Elodie was the maid of honor and Meatball was going to carry the rings, with the two kids guiding him. Her hair was down, she didn’t have a veil, just a dress and heels.

He was nervous, but he was really happy. He was marring his girl. ‘’You ready for this?’’ Buck asked, coming in the room. ‘’Yeah, I’m nervous, but it’s my girl, I can’t wait to marry her’’ He sign. ‘’Let’s go its time.’’ Corporal says, as he enters the room. ‘’Thanks, Corporal’’ Bucky says. ‘’She’s a good girl, I’m happy for you, Major’’ he says. ‘’I appreciate it, Corporal, thank you.’’ They entered the room, soldiers were sat, some were still arriving. Nurses were there too, almost all the men and woman on the base were there. The priest was waiting for him at the altar. ‘’Who thought we would see Bucky tie the knot?’’ Lieutenant Dye said, even if he went home because he did 25 missions, he came back to see his friend get married. ‘’Yeah, well you did steal my previous girl, I had to find another one’’ he laughed. Right now, he couldn’t even think about Lil, the only woman that mattered to him was his future wife. When Bucky commented about their previous relationship, she bent her head down, ashamed. ‘’Don’t worry, Lil, he’s the better choice for you. I’m happy for your guys’’ He reassured her. Dye smiled to the groom and took the hand of his lady. Lil smiled and took a relived breath.

Once again, she was pacing around the room, Meatball following her with his head. Harry Crosby came in the room, smiling. ‘’Are you ready?’’ he asked. ‘’I feel like I’m going to throw up.’’ ‘’I know that feeling, but don’t worry I can recommend you to an amazing doctor’’ Crosby smiled, she laughed, it calmed her down a little. She didn’t even know why she was nervous, they both loved each other, but she was nervous. ‘’I’m really happy for you. You deserve happiness, Y/n, you both do.’’ They both hugged. ‘’You’re my best friend, Croz, thank you for everything you did for me’’ She whispered in his ear. ‘’Now, don’t make me cry.’’ They chuckled as Daisy came to get them. ‘’It’s time’’ she simply said.

When the band started to play music, Bucky’s heart stopped; she was coming. He turned around to look at his girl. She was magnificent, her dress was simple, but it was made for her. After all, they didn’t have much time to plan their wedding and their budget was small. Harry Crosby was walking her, he was grateful for him, he took care of her when he wasn’t there. When she saw him in his uniform, she started to smile like she never did before, she’d saw him in his uniform before, but he looks wonderful. When Harry and Y/n reached the groom, Crosby wanted to say something. Normally, her father would’ve give her to John, but Harry needed to say words to him. ‘’Take good care of her, just like she took care of you. Y/n smiled, hearing the word his best friend said to her future husband.

When Meatball came down the aisle, with the two boys, the soldiers chuckled. Everyone on the base knew that Y/n and Meatball came as a pair, they were together all the time. When she worked at the hospital, Meatball was there too, he made soldiers smile. The two boys handed the rings to the bride and groom. They recited the vow that the priest asked them too. It was beautiful, making them promise to each other that they will love the other, no matter what. It said that they would always be there for the other and stuff that made some people cry. When it was time for their personal vows, Y/n decided to go first. ‘’Bucky, my love, when I first met you, I thought you were going to be just another soldier that crossed my path. I was clearly wrong because, I’m now in a white dress in front of you. I did not just fell in love with you, I feel in love with your smile, your humor, your qualities and your flaws. I fell in love with each version of you, the one you show when you’re with your friends, the person you are when we are alone, the person that you’re too scared to show me, but did before you trusted me, and I also fell in love with the pilot version of you. Words aren’t enough to tell you how much you mean to me, but I’m so happy that Meatball came to me that day, so I could meet my soulmate’’ She cried, they were happy tears. Bucky was crying too, he didn’t care if some soldiers thought he was weak, that was the most beautiful thing he ever heard. ‘’My darling, my forever, I feel like the luckiest men on earth, because I get to be your husband. When things were rough, I think about you. Your smile, your laugh, your beautiful eyes and your voice. I’m not as talented with words as you are, but I can tell you this, it’s so hard for me to put our love into words, because I love you in ways, I have never loved anyone else, but I promise that I will spend the rest of my life, searching for them. I love you, my darling.’’ If the crowd didn’t cry to Y/n’s speech, they cried at Bucky’s. Even the priest was about to cry. ‘’ In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride.’’

They didn’t have to be told twice, their kiss was full of love and passion. It celebrated their love and said all the words they couldn’t find. The crowd applauded and congratulated the newly weds. ‘’I love you Mrs. Egan’’ Bucky said, looking at his wife. ‘’I love you more, Mr. Egan’’ she smiled.

After the celebration, and almost 4 songs that Bucky insisted on singing, they both pack all their things. Because has a weeding gift, the Corporal gave Bucky the right to go home. After all, he was at 23 missions, he was close to 25. And Y/n made Elodie the chief nurse, because the Corporal also gave her the right to go home. They were going home, they both couldn’t believe it, but it was the case. A smaller plane, that was made for traveling, was waiting for them on the runway. The newly weds were going back home on the same plane as Lieutenant Dye. They hugged their friends, Y/n gave Buck and Croz the phone number at Bucky’s home. That’s where they would live until they could afford a home. When they boarded the plane, they were euphoric. ‘’Can you actually believe we’re going home?’’ Y/n whispered. He shook his head. ‘’The only thing I believe right now, is the fact that you’re my wife, and my ribs are healed’’ he chuckled. She giggled when the decide to steel his watch, putting it in her bra. ‘’Come and pick it up after the flight’’ she teased with a huge smile. It was the beginning of their life together, and they would savor each second, they had together, because they both knew how easily life can change. But it wasn’t on their mind right now. The only thing on Bucky’s mind, was to pick up his watch, just like he did the first time.

A/n: It's the end y'all!!! Thank you for reading this story. I already have more ideas, for other stuff. Love you all :)

[knightyoomyoui]

TWICE Sana x M/F Reader - "I Want It That Way"

I'M BACK. After 3 months of no update, your one and only Knight Yoo-Myoui returns to bring you readers more stories in my book. Author's been in a really tough situation especially last month, but that still ain't gonna be enough to take out my passion and motivation to continue writing for both mine and your entertainment. I'm gonna continue this as long as I can. However, from now on; please understand and expect that I won't be updating very often like weekly or everyday as before. Studies is my current priority as of the moment but I promise that I will always update yall. Actually though, this new kind of pacing for both my writing procedure and publishing has somehow lessen the pressure in me. I'm really liking it so far, makes me comfortable. This story is requested by ShaShaSha029 BUT..., sorry Sha because I made some changes on your requested plot hehe. I already made the same concept from my previous works so I used your other request from another member to come up with something new that I haven't done yet. And as for the other member you requested to me, I'll give you a brand new plot for her. I hope you and the readers will like this. Enjoy reading! STREAM "I GOT YOU" and "ONE SPARK" MVs btw!

"I'm going home, guys. I'll leave the office to you all."

YN/LN, a current 4th year student from Cheongnamdong Polytechnic University and the campus' ongoing president of the student council, has just finished your tasks for today and is now about to depart from their office and send your goodbyes to your fellow members kindly to end the day on a positive note.

"Be safe on your way home, Pres!"

"You too."

You continued walking after sending him all the bright greetings, but before passing to your own cubicle and reaching the door, it opened. You then heard some footsteps behind it until a familiar figure made its presence known in front of you.

You watched your classmate, friend, and the secretary of their council, Yoo Janghoon, peeking at the door with a weird smile before you find him standing on your way.

Janghoon then approached YN.

"Seems like you're about to leave."

"Yeah." You nodded. " What's with your smile in your face? You look like you just saw something amusing.", he said in a judgmental look.

"Not with my own eyes, but the words I've heard are enough to picture her on mind." Janghoon smirked and bounced his brows.

"Her? You're into hunting chicks again?"

"Idiot, I have a girlfriend now, ofcourse I'm not." Janghoon mocked YN as he was about to throw a punch. "But seriously though, not even me could deny that it really does interest me."

"Why, what's going on out there?"

"Well, I've heard from my acquaintances from the other courses that there's a newly transferred female student here in the campus earlier after the class break."

"That late?"

"Yeah, I was a bit confused too but they said the professor just let it passed because they said that her documents were finalized at the last minute so that's why." YN hummed to react.

"And would you like to enlighten me what's so interesting with this random transferee student? I mean, no offense. Welcome aboard to the university but... what's special?"

"Dude, I'm telling you, it's not just "random", this girl was a legit bombshell. Based from how they described her, it was like when she stepped on the room, they felt like there was a legit goddess that got manifested into reality."

"And that's it?"

"Y-yeah... but you know and I know, dude. Our university has been missing it's "queen" for quite some time now. And probably the students are making noise about it is because they see a huge potential on her."

"Okay. Well, I do hope she doesn't feel overwhelmed with the attention she's about to receive on the next days of her stay here."

"But we're here as the council officers to take control, right?"

"Exactly." you nodded. "Anyways, gotta go now. I still have a family dinner not to miss."

"Alright, take care pres."

"You too, sec."

You left the office and the campus with a curiosity forming in your heart and mind on the identity of this woman that has been the center of the gossips you were unaware of due to how busy you are on the duties.

Arrived at home, you entered and got welcomed by your mother who is preparing their table for a lovely dinner tonight while your father is busy watching basketball on the living room.

"Good evening, mom."

"Good eve, YN. Tired?", she said while placing the plates on the table.

"Not that much but I would be glad to rest as always.", you spoke with a timid smile.

"Perfect, meal's coming right up real soon. Join your father there, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, mom."

You walked near to your father and greeted him courteously. You sat beside him and laid your back comfortably on the soft cushion of the couch to release all the pent-up exhaustion your body has consumed on today's packed class schedule.

Minutes later, your mother commands both you and your father to position yourselves on the seats. Each grabbing their own meal, all of you started praying first before taking your first bites and swallow on such a delicious food.

"Uhm, dear. We want to talk to you about something." Your mother inserted a topic to be discussed.

"Sure, mom. I'll be listening. What is it about?"

"It's like a business talk but this also concerns about your personal life too, YN which we much rather prioritize." Your father said after swallowing his throat. "We meet up with our partners on the company regarding this and we all come to an agreement."

"Agreement to what?"

"Me and your mother are placing you in an arrangement contract with their child."

"Wait, come again?"

"Arrangement contract. It means we set you up with someone as your age to date and marry one day, and we figured out that to strengthen the connection between us, we decided to-"

"Yes, wait. I know that part, dad but... why need to? Wasn't it too early? I get that you want me to have a wife and a family someday but... it's not one of my priorities so far.", you complained.

"YN, please do understand that your mother and I ain't be getting younger as time goes on. Someday, you'll be alone, and we just wanted to give you another family that you would be glad to remain and... hopefully, to remember us like how we raised you from the beginning."

"But wasn't this too fast? You're making me rush things."

Both sides went silent, as the father felt guilty also for how true your words are.

"It's my life. You may be the one who gave me that but I developed and earned a right to decide what's right for my future."

"We know, son... but we had no choice. It's for the sake also of our business. You know that we have to keep it to the mountain top so that we don't have our efforts of raising it go to waste, especially when this is the main reason how me and your mother were able to give you a better life that you deserve. And some way or another, you will be for sure, the one who will take the mantle and own my properties. You can use it also to raise your family easier."

"We are not forcing you to do this, YN. Please, we just wanted to inform you and talk about this because you also have a side and opinion to be heard. Whatever your answer may be, we will respect it. We are just suggesting, but hopefully you can consider it, honey." Your mother's soft voice effectively kept you at ease more.

Taking deep breaths and a short length of silence to contemplate, you looked at them both as you made your choice. "Fine. This is because I love you both and I owe you two everything. I'm doing it."

They both smiled in relief. "Thank you for this, son/daughter."

"No problem. So... can you tell me more about this contract?"

"Well it's simple, an arranged contract but we requested to have you and the girl we chose to spend 30-days or let's say a month to get to know each other and figure things out if you two would believe that everything will work out as a couple." Your father explained.

"And who's the girl that you guys have prepared for me?"

"They have an only child just like us, and it's an easier idea to place her because as we learned, their daughter is currenly in search of finding somebody to love."

"Sadly, we're unalike."

"But she may be able to change your mind, on whatever that hold your heart back. You accepted the offer, now you just have to see how she really is, but we're certainly sure that she's good just like her parents."

"And what's her name?"

"We haven't been introduced nor asked for her name, but from what we know, her nickname should be "Minatozaki", and is Japanese. She was also studying now at the same campus as yours."

"I'll try to look for her and maybe we can talk there privately."

"Whatever you want, YN. Just keep us updated okay?"

"Noted." You replied before everyone returned on focusing to finish their foods.

The next day, you were a bit irritated from how the discussion last night distracts you in the middle of your duty. You couldn't concentrate at the curiousity that dwells inside of you.

So you decided to to take a break outside. You encountered a vacant spot to breathe some fresh air and drink at the iced coffee you prepared on your tumbler as you roam your eyes around at your surroundings.

That's where you spotted some group of students huddling around at a spot near the bulletin board, as if they're being crazy or attentive at something.

Eager to find out the rucus, you approached the scenario and tried to peek around, and there you noticed a female student entertaining the other fellow students by asking her randomly and even asking for some pictures like she is a celebrity.

As she turned around, her long chestnut colored hair flips around as if it denied the gravity, her side profile appeared, until it all fully rotated to have her face evident at you for the first time.

And my oh my the rumors shared by your secretary were true.

No wonder why she was already popular, she does look magnificent, enough to be mistaken as a famous personality.

Your eyes couldn't leave the sight of her just doing everything even in such bare minimum if movements that still effortlessly made her very attractive. Thankfully, there's your boy distracting you as you snapped back when you felt a shoulder wrapped on your neck.

"You finally met her." Janghoon said, smirking at you. "From what I heard earlier, the exchange student's name's Minatozaki Sana. She's a foreigner, a Japanese to be specific."

"Minatozaki?" Your thoughts murmured. Contemplating if you heard it right, but that was the same surname your father was tasked you to find, and she even has the same nationality.

Having exchange students in your campus are very rare.

You are flabbergasted as you slowly realize that... this woman is going to be the one you'll date and marry.

Unconsciously, you turned around at Janghoon with your forehead crumpled and mouth slightly gaped.

"What? Did I say something wrong?"

"Oh n-no. Not-thing." You shook your head swiftly. Returning your gaze back at her, you couldn't believe it at all that your parents and her friends does picked a perfect girl for you.

But you wondered if it could be said the same about you.

Hours later, Sana who was about to enjoy her recess, instead went to the council office to meet the president, as per the classmates told her after being tasked to do so.

She stepped in front of the door that says "Student Council Office, knock twice before entering". She followed and slowly pushed the doorknob. A person sitting at the far end of the room, looking busy on his desk greeted her.

As the door closed, it alarmed the president that the person is now here for a scheduled conversation, only that when you raised your head, you looked at her having a shocked reaction.

Sana stares at the reveal of this mysterious person that runs the entire student government of the campus. Flashbacks began to run back into her mind, slowly making her upset.

"Thank you for agreeing to come here and t-"

"Am I looking at this very clearly?" Sana immediately spoke.

"Pardon?"

"You? Out of everyone here... was chosen to become a leader?"

"W-what? Settle down, miss. I think you n-"

"A representative figure for everyone, and I get to be under your orders around here?" Sana chuckled bitterly. "I didn't know that even after years later, we'll still have our paths crossing onto each other despite how I wanted to never meet you in my life again."

"D-do we know each other?"

Sana scoffed as she looked at you ridiculously. "Ofcourse, how could you recognize me. First of all, I was just a complete nothing to you. A plaything of your cruel antics and delinquent actions. And second, I'm not the same girl you used to belittle everyday."

You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her intently. "W-what... you..."

"Still doesn't ring a bell? Oh, how about this. The name Minatozaki Sana? That fat nerdy girl back in elementary that you used to bully so hard in our 8th year that forced her to transfer to other school. How about that?"

Your eyes sprung open as you instantly remember the name and that student you used to include in one of your prime victims in your dark past.

That description of her past self brought you back to the times when you remembered looking for her first to rather mock, annoy, or play with her until her feelings broke and look helpless.

You were a bully before in elementary days, and she was your classmate back then. But that was all only the past now as you are now a changed person, with all the better and positive things that came into your life had taught you more valuable and nice things to consider yourself reevaluating your personality.

But it looks like it could tell the opposite for Sana's part.

"I remember you now, Sana. And... please, let me tell you right now that I'm not the same person you used to despise before."

"Do you really think I'll be fooled easily by that?" Sana retorted. "We just met after what... 7 years and you're supposed to have me believing that when in fact, I still look at you as that same horrific figure I never should've want to see again, but yet here you are."

Sana still didn't took a seat. She walked around and observed the room. You were a bit relieved that all of your council members are absent in this tense confrontation. "What a hypocrisy it is to have you getting involved in an organization that focuses on student rights when in fact, you have a record of violating it before. Shouldn't be a student fitting for that must be... clean?"

"Sana, believe me or not, I changed. I wouldn't even dare to take this position if I'm not sincere for it, and I'm not forcing you to believe me."

"Oh, ofcourse you should. Because I really don't buy everything that comes into your mind not until I see it" Sana shook her head and smugged. "Maybe it'll change my mind of me planning to expose you from every-"

"Wait! You can't be serious?"

"Oh indeed I am." Sana clicked her tongue. "You ruined me before, but here I am who helped myself and from people I loved to become this better version of mine to stand here in front of you, I'm going to get you this time, YN. I'm going to make you feel what is it like being... excluded."

She leaned forward on the desk, staring at you sharply and observing your nervous expression. "But...if there's some sort of a miracle that... you did changed. Then you're going to prove it on me. Make me convinced that this YN I hate with every fiber of my being is... gone."

"What if I tell you that you already have a chance to make me?"

"And that is?"

"Have you heard about an arrangement contract from your parents?"

"Y-yeah... but they don't tell me who it is because- WAIT" Sana quickly lunged back away from you. "Please tell me who I'm thinking is correct."

"Sorry to tell you but I was just in denial as you are yesterday."

"Oh God." Sana poured out the biggest disappointment she felt in her entire life so far. "W-why does my fate has to be very unlucky everytime when it's about you? Me being in an arranged contract with you? I think I have to vomit."

"Wait! But you said you want me to prove that I changed?"

"And you really think I want it this way?" Sana looked at you disgusted. "Being as this fabled student council president or just a random student from me would be fine but... YOU AS MY FIANCE? That won't do, mister." Sana swayed her pointing finger. "Unfortunately, the answer would be NO. Now please, I have to go already. I still have a lunch to take before I lose my appetite."

Sana walked away from you and left the room unbotheredly. You sat there, back falling flat on your swivel chair. Your hands caressed your hair as you reacted unbelievably and stunned that this heavily improved Sana that you used to know many years before has returned to actually be your woman, but unfortunately, her hatred for you still lives on her till this day.

Her opposal didn't worked however, as Sana tried to request later during dinner, she was informed by her parents that the contract can only be cancelled after 30-days for the people to finally reassure their decision.

She mentioned that YN and her have a bad history in the past, but instead her parents reasoned out that maybe YN has changed and it will not hurt to give another chance. If only they know what the real reason it is, but Sana was clearly affected by their suggestion because honestly, Sana is a forgiving soft type of person.

Still, confident that she's satisfied with her answer, she became impatient and hated being with YN more.

Meanwhile, you shared to your mother about how the unlikedness of you and Sana's interests about the marriage arrangement in a deatiled manner.

"We met and had a talk, but... it wasn't as proper and civil as I expected because, I was surprised that she confessed something very familiar to me. Something that I've been trying to get it out on my head. Something that I wanted to let go for a long time."

"What was she to you before?"

"A nuisance, even though she wasn't doing even wrong. I look at her before thinking it wasn't right for her to be in this type of high class campus that I study at too, but then I figured out that me ending up bullying and making her emotional and mental state suffer is way worse than she is."

You flinched when your mother slapped you in the head. "What??? How could you bully someone?! Is that how we raised you?"

"Mom, wait ofcourse no... but, I was just made to be like that because of what happened to us, you know that!"

Your mother became speechless and a glimpse of pity became visible to you. "But it's all good now, mom. I'm not like that anymore, I'm telling you.  And that's what I should've just wanted to prove to Sana but... I understand that she won't let me anymore. I broke her too much, I can't let it happen again."

Stepping closer in front of you, she placed her hands gently on your shoulders to massage them and make your ease down. "Even I was mad and disappointed that you once turned into that type of guy you never should be, but I know from the bottom of my heart that you will always be a good kid of mine because that's how I raised you to be. You just got affected too much by our struggles before. And I believe you always, YN. The only thing I can do now for you to support you, and that is for you to keep on moving forward and never stop to make Sana forgive you, alright?"

"I will. Thanks, mom."

She patted you on the cheek. "Goodluck, okay? You have a month to do it."

----------

"Okay, class dismissed. Group 1, remember to prepare your report by next week okay?"

"Yes, prof!", the students who are part of the group that the professor mentioned chanted.

The professor left the room, leaving the students have the freedom to eat lunch during their vacant time.

"Sana, cmon! Did you bring a lunch with you?", one of Sana's classmates asked her while she's clearing her table.

"No, I'm gonna buy for today."

"Nice, let's go!"

Sana brought her wallet and cellphone with her, joins her newfound friends named Miyeon and Sullyoon as they make their way out to the classroom.

However, as they were about to, a figure suddenly pops out of the doorway, stopping their tracks. The two classmates of hers had a visible shock in their faces unlike to Sana, her bright mood quickly shrank down into a gloomy one.

"Hi, sorry if I'm almost late." You straightened your lips. "Good thing I was about to catch you leaving yet, let's go eat lunch together."

Miyeon and Sullyoon's jaw dropped at the student council president's proposal. Sana's eyebrows knitted hardly. "Huh? What nonsense are you saying?"

"Why? I'm just going to invite you to eat with me?"

"With you?" Sana scoffed and chuckled. "You have the guts, I'll give you that... but NO." Sana leaned forward at you to say this.

"Let's go girls."

Sana was just commanding her classmates and taking a step again away from you but in her surprise, she felt her body being pulled by a force. She tried to process what happened, and there she found her skin contacting with yours as she stood by your side...

with your hands wrapped around her waist.

Miyeon and Sullyoon's eyes largened in utter shock at what they're seeing. They couldn't believe that such a new transferee would get to gain closeness and change the behavior of the famously respected and knowned leader of the students around the campus.

Sana's lungs skipped functioning as soon as she felt your fingers dug deeper into her skin. Her face then starts to turn red and her face showing almost hilariously stunned reaction, with no hint of an idea what has turned you to be like this today.

"Pardon me for Sana's antics right now, we just had a fight yesterday and I wanted to come up a solution to fix that." You said in a melodic and apologetic tone to them. Sana was dumbfounded at the ridiculous fake words you are talking about.

"W-wha"

Sana wasn't able to finish her words, when she felt herself getting pulled again, now squeezed against your body which intensified her heartbeat and blushes.

"So, please. Can we eat together today, love?"

Any words that are synonym to what I mentioned earlier can be heavily applied now to all three women witnessing the sudden change of the president's act.

You led the way, bringing Sana with you as both crossed the hallway with the confused and flabbergasted duo following on the back while some of the students can see the two having this kind of contact has began to grab attention.

As they reached the cafeteria, Miyeon and Sullyoon shyly approached the "couple". "Uhm, Sana. I think we can just eat sometime. We'll let you have you two your private time okay?"

"B-but w-"

"Thank you for being considerate on us, girls." You smiled humbly at them and they nodded before they left you and Sana to find their own seat. As the two of you remained, Sana's face crumpled and seethed much air to unleash her full force on escaping to your touch.

She quickly unhooks your arm on her waist, pushed you aside, and punched you in the shoulder. "Oww!"

"Seriously, what the hell did you do to me, YN?!" Sana started to bicker out on you. "How come you just started to spit out and let my friends hear and see you assuming that we have a relationship now, huh?! Did you ate something bad that had you acting like crazy today?"

"Nope. I'm perfectly fine, and what I did there earlier, consider getting used to that." You replied. "Because from now on, I'll be going to do it with you again and again and again a-"

"Woah wait no what?!" Sana paused you. "And why is that, huh? I haven't even agreed yet on the deal-"

"But was the contract got cancelled?"

Sana fell speechless. She remembered yesterday that she swore to dump the contract by requesting to her parents after she gave her disapproval. However, she failed to do so.

You took her silence as yes. "I suppose it didn't. If it does, my parents would've informed me immediately."

"Yeah yeah yeah, you won. So what? You still can't just do it like that to me randomly. I still haven't gave you the consent to touch me or do anything lovey dovey around me. Just because the contract states that we are arranged to be a couple that doesn't mean I can let you easily do everything free around me. Especially when the fact that I still hate you so much." Sana pointed at you as she stares deeply within you.

"Alright, fine. You do have a point. I shouldn't have done it. It's my fault, I made you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry for that." You spoke in a calm tone. Sana got her insides tugged at your sudden softer behavior. "But just know this, I hope you can let me do these with everything I can. No matter how much you deny, we are still stuck in an arranged contract that has a month allowed on us to come up on a decision if we'll take a marriage, and that gives each of us the right to do what couples does.

And I'm going to use it also, for me to prove myself to you that I've changed through all these years, Sana. Consider it me acting or say whatever you want, but when it comes to you, I'll show my improved self and nothing less than that." You said plainly to her. Sana is just listening at you patiently, sticking out important details to her mind while her emotions were a bit being brought by your committed words.

"I can't force you to love me back and have our marriage settled someday after the deadline comes, I wasn't even into love these days but I had no choice but to follow. But, I really do hope that before or when these all ends, I can hear you saying that I am now forgiven."

Sana was struggling to come up for a words to answer, and you took the opportunity to let her have time to remember and process everything as you locate a seat and bought foods for both of you. You left the still pissed off Sana became completely silent and come back to join her in an awkward lunch together.

That went on and on, with you trying to get along with Sana through most of the occasions. You supposed to take it all as a yes coming from Sana that you were being a chance to prove everything to her that you are not this same bad person she used to resist before.

With your frequent actions around Sana led to the campus knowing also about your rumored relationship with her.. Some were supportive that the president finally get to have a girlfriend such perfect as Sana while some were not due to the reason of jealousy most concerning about the fact that they are not the ones standing on the shoes or position of either you or Sana.

That didn't affected both of you, especially Sana who is trying her best to become unbothered with all of these because she is too tired to explain it to many people for some truth that everyone wouldn't accept easily. She knows it all to herself anyway that it's all part of the act, that none of them are interested with each other or has a growing fond being developed.

Not until one day, she accidentally finds you tutoring a female student in the library. She saw how entertained you are on how easily the girl gets to understand quickly with your teaching, thus turning you both looking happy together.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable at the scene, her lips unconsciously forming into a frown. Sana instead leaves the room and went on to return with her friends who noticed her bad mood as she buried her head around her crossed arms on the desk.

It all procceeded until their next subject when the girls tried to approach her about it. "Hey, Sana what's with the grumpy look?" Miyeon said as she peeked at Sana who looks completely out.

"You weren't participating with us lightly, what happened when you left the room earlier?" Sullyoon added.

"Yeah, you seemed in a no good mood."

"Nothing." Sana blabbered.

"Was it YN?"

"I said NOTH-" Sana paused and realized that she just made herself obvious, Miyeon and Sullyoon were just staring at her.

"Welp, that confirms it." Sana sighed. "Care to tell us what's the problem?"

She remained silent. She wasn't sure why she's getting a bit embarassed to reveal it until she also got nervous when her friends began to list down some of the possible things a couple creates problems.

"Was he cold to you today?"

"Hmm maybe you're the one who's not?"

"Or... could it be somebody's jealous-"

"What, no?!" Sana rapidly reacted. Miyeon and Sullyoon exchanged a "gotcha" look.

"Oh unnie, you're too obvious." Miyeon laughed.

"Jealous of what? Or should we say, who?" Sullyoon curiously asked.

"S-stop! I said it's nothing, okay! There's no chance in hell that I am jealous because of him." Sana made a "tch" sound on her mouth. "I don't even like him at all." She rolled her eyes as she whispered it, barely to be heard by her friends who returned focusing on their own. As she was left alone with her trouble, her eyes went staring at the window, she sighed deeply as she felt a strange regret inside her after saying those words while remembering what she saw back in the library.

As if she meant it.

Hours later, Sana bids goodbye to Miyeon and Sullyoon before she walked at the hallway all by herself. She stopped on her steps when she felt this unsettling feeling near her shoulder.

Her head goes turning around, searching for something but was unsuccessfully. Sana sighed and shook her head. "YN isn't coming. That guy/girl is a student council president, Sana. He/she's probably busy." she muttered to herself.

Sana continued to move, with a blank face and a moderate speed. As the afternoon light about to engulf her, she felt her sling bag slowly float, the weight she's carrying quickly became lighter.

Her breath got taken away shortly in surprise until she realized what caught her from that action.

It was you, smiling while standing beside her as you taking off her bag gently from her shoulder.

"May I?"

Sana didn't respond, she just let her arm spread a bit to let the strap fall, easily allowing it to fall from your posession.

"You do look like having a bad day." you peeked at her expression. Sana slightly got shy, and turns her face away as she pouted while rolling her eyes arrogantly.

"You just noticed? I'm always like this whenever you're around me."

"You sure there's nothing more than that? I know it's pretty much of a 'me' problem but... can you be more specific?"

"Oh come on, wasn't that enough for you? Stop triggering me, please. I said what I said, you are an eyesore that's why." Sana crosses her arm. She started to walk down the stairs as you slowly followed her with a faint smile on your lips.

"Okay, if that's what you say. I'll just be here behind you. Too bad, I wanted to lead the way because I want take us somewhere unwinding first." You sighed and tightened your lips. Sana heard it, sensing a weird sensation through her. She must be saying no or even meaner than that, but how come she became more curious?

Sana heaved out a large breath of air before pausing on her walk with a stomp. She turned around to face you as she gestures you to come forward. "It's only because I needed it."

And you grinned thankfully.

The two of you went to a cliff from a road outside of Seoul. Just in time, Sana was about to whine about how dangerous this place you chose until she was distracted of the magnificent sunset in display to the skyview.

Each of you took a picture, with her being first. You clicked the button, instead the shot accidentally captures Sana turning her attention back at you. As she approaches you, you dragged down your phone in embarassment and nervousness that she might found out and suspect that you're secretly spying on her.

"What happened to you?" Sana finds your tensed manner.

"N-nothing. I just... remembered something."

"Weirdo." She teases you. "So what's gotten into you choosing this place. Are you gonna push me there down the cliff to show me your true colors?"

You looked at her exhaustedly, no much in an energy to enlighten or defend yourself. "Say or think of anything suspicious about me, Sana but I wasn't even harming you even in my imaginations anymore." You didn't bother to look at her because all you'll see rather is an irritated, sassy woman whom you had a price to pay for.

"This is my favorite place to chill." You simply answered, leaning at the front of the car and posing your limbs as you supported yourself with your arms pressed on the car. Sana looked at your side-figure.

"I started finding this when me and my mom used to go here when I was young. She was the first one to notice how beautiful the sunset is to watch from here, and I did agree on her... and it turns out to become one of my favorite scenery." Sana just listened to your story as you continue to witness the sun hides from the clouds.

"My mother told me to stay with her longer here because for a moment, she found peace and serenity. She felt like there's nothing to worry about." You paused as you smiled proudly. "She felt like she wasn't going to be alone in this battle she's facing, because I was there by her side. Even though I... wasn't that too much vocal or expressive at what I've gone through in our family, but... my heart knows where I need to stay. Where I can surely find a better outcome for my life someday."

"That's why when the right thing happened one day, I started to listen and follow to my heart first. I kicked out all those delinquent students away from my company and I only remained my wonderful mom and dad... step-dad..." You corrected yourself, Sana shrank her eyes at that intentional pause. "Because it felt like it's the right thing to do, and it did. It helped me to get back up to my feet and reshape myself to become a proper man that my mom always wanted to see in me.

Sana, mind I if ask... am I progressing?"

Sana stares at you as you glanced at her with your glistening eyes full of hope. "I'm not gonna lie this time, but you sure are doing quite an effect on me..." Her voice is slowly decreasing through the words.

"But that won't still change anything about what you did to me before. People can say past is past easily but me? If it wasn't for that, which I don't know... should I say thank you atleast anyway... for motivating me to change my appearance? Lose a massive amount of weight, beautify myself more, get rid of those eyeglasses and braces just so that I can be accepted and liked by many for my features like what you said?" Sana said with a bit of a hatred rising through her again. You remain speechless as you understand why it's driving her mad.

"I achieved a better life too but unlike you, what I did I get? You put me into a trauma that I'm still bringing to myself till this day. Fear and anxious that...  makes me still remember it all."

"I like the passion, YN... but I will never going to forgive you for what you did to me. I will always hate you for that." Sana said it with all honesty. "And that's enough of a reason for me to have no interests on having our deal contract settled."

Heartbroken, you chose to ignore and hide as you have nothing more to do than to accepts her decision. After all, you were the one who already said that you can't force her to make amends with you.

"Understood."

The next week, Sana was about to go downstairs when she found a student sipping lollipop at the corner. The guy looks completely wasted, obviously breaking the proper uniform rules. She decided to ignore him as she continue to go through but insteas, the guy catcalled her before moving on its own, approaching Sana.

"Hi there, hot stuff." The guy said before taking off her lollipop with a slurp. "Where you going at?"

"A-at my class." Sana nervously said.

"Hmmm... okay. Nice and proper, I like it. Ladies like you are easy to be tamed, isn't it?" He smirked menacingly.

Sana stepped back and grabbed her sling bag. "E-excuse me? How dare you-"

"Ohhh, daring. Such a duality we got here huh, I wouldn't mind if you can do switch roles with me, however we can only apply that in the bed."

"Shut up, pervert!"

"Cmon, lady. It's that simply, feel free to take a shot on me, and you can be there to your classroom without a problem."

"And if I don't?!"

"Challenging and fightful, I like that."

"Then you're going to love me."

Sana and the delinquent both became surprised as you made your unexpected emergence from the stairs, hurrying down ss you pushed away the guy and had him bumping his back on the barred metal gate.

"This one's pestering you?" Sana only nodded.

"Ugh shit! Ah, look. It's the bastard of this goddamn student council!" The delinquent said while touching his upper back in pain.

"Choose your words more carefully. I can report you and have you be placed in a sanction that you'll regret."

"Go on, make me. As if I give a shit. This entire university is a complete bullshit anyway. The only reason it got me staying here everyday, is if wasn't for some sexy chicks like here roaming around-" The deliquent didn't had to speak disrespectfully and point at Sana longer as he ate a crunchy right punch from you straight to his face.

"You crazy bitch!"

The guy fights back at you, returning the punch you gave. It agitated you and led yourselves into a brawl that had the groans and growls echoing to the upper floor, catching student's attention. Sana panicked and tasked them to call a guard to seperate the two.

The guy got the advantage during the fight, he continues to give you a barrage of kicks to the waist before he pulled Sana closer to her and inappropriately traced her sides while he chuckles dangerously.

Sana felt disgusted and quickly slaps the guy. "What do you think you're doing, huh? Fucking slut!" He gave Sana a fast backhand slap that had her twirling and crashing next to the metal handles of the stairs.)+•~

You saw what he did, with anger fuming in you, you pulled his leg and sent him down on the ground before you tackled him andgave him multiple punches until the guards and the officials broke up the fight.

"THE TWO OF YOU, PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. NOW!"

As a result of the fight and from the decision made by the higher ups, the guy was kicked out of the campus for multiple delinquent offenses while you got suspended for your role as the president for a couple of months when they learned that you just did that for self-defense.

Sana was sitting on the bed with the nurse preparing the first aid until you showed up and requested the nurse instead to leave it all on your hands. She hesitated for a minute that you are also bruised but you bargained until she gave up and listened to you as a respect for being a student leader.

Sana in her surprise, watched you sit down and grab the first aid beside you. "W-what are you doing?"

"Treating you."

"Don't make me a baby, YN. The nurse can do it herself."

You just stared at her and Sana felt a bit intimidated. She decided to shut up and forcefully let you do your thing. "Good. Now come closer and lemme see your cheek."

She leaned forward and directed her aching cheek on you. "That idiot." You cursed as you search around the reddening spot. You weren't aware that it was mixed by Sana's blush now to have you staring very closer at her.

You started applying the ice pack around the hurting spot as Sana hissed before she swallowed in her throat and spoke. "T-thank you... for earlier."

"No problem. That's unusual, atleast I got a positive comment from you.

"I- I wasn't expecting you to come to rescue me, okay. And I didn't know how much I needed it."

The awkwardness between each other formed as none dared to speak afterwards when both got lost in their words. However, you started a topic that might break the silence and for Sana to understand more.

"I wasn't always like this."

"I know, you said it. It's just that there's something happened that I don't know-"

"It's my dad." You answered it. Sana looked at you. "I know you've been itching to ask me what exactly happened."

"I just don't want to because I felt like it's not my intention to know more and all I had to do is to understand you because it seemed too personal that I might sound forceful. But I do really wanted to know why." Sana replied. "So... step-dad?"

"No. My biological dad." You revealed. "My original father was abusive to my mom. I learned that he became like that when he started to fell addiction to gambling and other crazy stuffs that risks your money badly. He releases his frustration to my mom until she couldn't take it no more when she heard it loud and clear from my father that he despises her for me not turning out to be the one he's expecting. He always wanted a son/daughter but... nope. That's just all a part of his excuses that made my mom snapped and file a divorce  and report to my dad, and guess what. Her attorney became so interested in my mom and here he is, my mom and my dad broke up and him, who is now my step-dad, saved mom and I." You said as you applied care on her bruises.

Sana looked at you pitifully and for the first time, she frowned for you. "W-why are still helping me or... treating me good, even though I don't return it back at you?"

"Because... I got influenced. At first, I look up to my dad. I thought at first that he was tough, strong... I started becoming like him when him and my mom always gets to have a proble but then I realized that he was a true coward for proving all that by beating up my mom. And she was the one who is actually tough, because despite of all the suffering she took from my dad, she didn't hurt him back physically but that doesn't she has no plans to fight. Because if she does, then I wouldn't be in a better state if it wasn't for her.

So I changed. I took mom as my role model. I remained calm as much as I can. I did it all to reshape myself from the ghost of the past. Now here I am, rather choosing to prove myself and mean it all on my words on you. I don't want to fight anymore to cause trauma, Instead, I'll do in a need to protect the people who are close to me."

Sana tied all the strings together, and it did finally all comes to a clear point that it wasn't really your fault that you turned out to be that reckless bully that she had to go through a hard time before. She would be lying if she won't admit that she is a supporter of a belief that people can change, and it comes through this moment that she decided that she can use that phrase for good.

"There, all done." You said as you tucked all the hair to her ear and patted the bandage firmly on her face. Sana was just staring back at your tender and admirable demeanor. "Does it still h-"

"I forgive you."

"..."

You fell silent. That was very out of nowhere, but suddenly it got so uplifted to hear that successfully.

"Y-you do?"

"And we still have a week remaining ahead of us. We can use it to finally be able get along together."

You smiled widely as you saw how Sana's bright and cute grin shines right in your eyes. She looked so beautiful, and you even felt more guilty and poor for her on vanishing this irresistable kine of joy within her before.

"Yeah we can. T-thank you a lot, Sana."

Sana patted your hand to calm your happiness down. She smiled as she stared down at your hands stacked together. She took a grip on it and even felt the heat crawling through her skin, sending to her overflowing emotions in her heart.

It actually does look... fitting in her opinion. And she even agreed more to herself when she looked back up to see the owner of the hand she would actually love to hold more in many occasions.

That moment, Sana confirmed to herself that she has now began to discover a liking on you, who is also discreetly sharing the same serenade as her too.

Days after you and Sana tried to start this brand new closeness both of you has started for each other, its aftermath had left you ran out to became so overwhelmed about it, now that have reminded you of something that requires to be done more important before the expiration was reached.

You wanted to be happy because you have now made peace with Sana, but today wasn't the right time for you to celebrate fully.

Too much occupied on spending time for each other, that it almost made both forgot that you had to deal with a serious matter when the next day comes.

Your mood disrupted as you got conscious of the date today, not even Sana's bubbly personality can distract you from it or anything. You couldn't even join her as you remained watching her instead for some reason.

"You seem like you're in deep thoughts again, YN." Sana poked you with the tip of the ice cream she bought. "Are you okay?"

You didn't answer right away as it took time for you to snap back into your senses and found yourself being confronted by Sana.

"Y-yeah."

A lie. Sana detected that disturbing twitch of a forced smile on your lips.

"Really, what's going on? I know i've seen this last time on you getting blacked out of nowhere but this one feels different."

"How can you say?" You asked in a dead tone.

She shrugged and opened her ice cream first before she continued speaking. "That something's definitely bothering you. You're so stiff and uneasy. Does it makes you scared?"

"M-maybe it is..."

"Care to share what it is then?"

You were about to respond but Sana introduces you to her cold palm blocking your sight.

"But first, eat your ice cream. It's gonna melt, plus... it's my favorite flavor, okay? I don't want it getting wasted." She pouted adorably.

You chuckled and sighed as you opened your ice cream. "Delicious."

"Who? Me or the ice cream?"

"W-what?" You looked so baffled at her suspicious remark.

She laughed loudly at your embarassed expression. "I'm sorry- it's just... you keep on staring at me while you're licking it and commenting it for me. I thought you're teasing me so... I tried to get back on you."

"S-stupid, you and your pervy thoughts..." You rolled your eyes and blushed intensely at her own silliness. "And what if I say you?" you smirked a little and glared at her.

"Then I don't mind having you grab a taste as much as you like~" Her eyes didn't even had to glare back at you to look flirty and seductive, instead aura changed on its own as Sana ensures that the one who started this kind of fun won't end up getting defeated in the end.

You gulped and looked away from her enticing look as she wheezes. "Sorry, what's gotten over me. Anyways, let's go backto where we left. Oh yeah, what's making you scared?"

You had to compose yourself before replying to her. "Of us. Certainly... for you."

"Why?"

"I can't tell if this luck that I have of making myself had to witness this whole you being... just the way you are is only temporary for me to see, because I fear that... I might lose this... real you, again." You said.

"I appreciate the consideration YN but, risks are inevitable okay? It's fine to take it as long as it won't step or abuse my whole being again." Sana said. "I know you're scared but... face your fears. This is why you seek for another opportunity, right? To make things right."

"But would it be wrong for me if..."

"If...?" Sana waited for your next words to follow up.

Your heartbeat quickened, nerves trembling, emotions rising, as there's no going back once you have revealed this secret you have been keeping from her in weeks. "Would it be wrong for me if I don't just want you as a friend anymore? That I also began to admire you more than that?"

Sana's smile dropped. Her gaze went more focused on you as she couldn't believe what she's hearing. "Y-you like me?"

"I know it's ridiculous of me to say that to you, because I feel like I don't have the right to feel this way because I made you like this... forcefully with my wrongdoings. But, I don't know why my heart is being like this." You said to her.

"Maybe it's due to what I've said to you last time that I started to follow what my heart wants, and it pains because... I feel like this is what I may be missing after all these years when I rather ending up hurting you against my will. And now it makes me worry if I continue this feeling i'm having now that we have buried your hatred, I might lose this... bright side that depicts the real you, Sana. That I mercilessly thrown away when we first met.

I don't want to let it go but... I couldn't  get rid of this feeling in me, even after you told me you have declined our contract, I'm heartbroken but I still keep on loving you." You started tearing up. For the first time, Sana has fully visualized this fragile self of yours and it truly does hurt her deep inside.

"But I don't want you to pity me. I still respect your decision, but... for the last time... a last hope in me, I just want to ask... do you... still want to reconsider it?"

You looked at her with your poor eyes. Sana got her breath taken away by your weakened state. Her heart crumples in pain seeing you like this because you are heavily concerned of something that you don't even had to.

Because she likes you too, and you don't even know yet.

If your heart chooses her, her heart needed you more.

"I'm sorry..." is what came out as a whisper to Sana's shaking tone. Your heart shattered and there's your last hope disappeared like a popped bubble in the air. She was about to speak but you interrupted her.

"I see. I get it, no matter how much a person forgives you for your sin, there's always be time that would grant you the punishment for wasting that moment that you should've been good rather. A karma, in short. And this one, is what I have to bring and suffer for the rest of my life."  You said to her with a bitter smile. Sana was in awe at your guilty pronounce.

"I enjoyed our time but I think I have to go now, Sana. I'm sorry." You excused yourself to Sana as you emptied your ice cream and left her speechless on your spot with her. Her frozen consciousness has what costs her to respond late to unable to catch you as you walked away from her sight.

Sana was left in distraught, as the words she was about to say and the entirety of your confession sinked down to her.

March 31. The day of the proclaimation has come. The month is ending and that means the contract has reached its breaking point. You and Sana met again in the court along with your parents in each of your sides.

Both parties are worried and confused on why you and Sana seemed so dull and devastated that neither couldn't look at each other's eyes anymore. This is what you feared, and the regret is eating you up again so bad.

"Mr/Ms. LN, are you in favor of the contract to be published and hereby signed by you?"

"I do, your honor." You said. You wanted to give it up but you chose to fight for what you have desired more. You wanted to be with Sana longer, and even if it won't grant you the same opportunity, it doesn't matter. Atleast you have become honest to your heart that you would've love to have her as yours.

Sana's lips trembled as she tried to fight the tears about to pour down on her face but was unsuccessful that the judge had to halt the question. It breaks your heart more to see her in an emotional breakdown in front of you.

"Miss Minatozaki, are you okay?"

"I... I'm not..." She sniffed her nose and wiped her tears before proceeding. " I'm not in favor of the contract, your honor."

Your family and Sana's both were in shock and saddened. You weren't surprised, but you are surely devastated that she is really this a hundred percent certain of her decision.

"Are you sure with your answer, Miss Minatozaki? You look hesitant. Perhaps you can provide a clear explaination why you still responded the opposite?"

"I'm really not in favor of the contract, your honor." Sana shook her head. She wiped her tears again before she stepped forward and came closer to you.

"Because I don't want to have it done arranged."

Your eyes widened. The collective gasps of the both sides can be heard from the court.

"I'm rather hesitant because I want to be with you more, YN... but not through this. I want us to build the story of our relationship through our own. I want it that way, not this where others had to dictate and rush us how things should go for us." She apologetically looks back at yours and her family, and gladly they nodded understandably at her point.

She immediately pulls you into a hug so tight that you wouldn't even care also if you got suffocated into her endearing gesture of what finding your home should feel like. "I'm glad that you didn't let go, YN... because I love you too."

She sobbed into your shoulder and you gave up with your emotions as flood of tears fell down on your face, but this time it was all full of joy and relief. You reciprocated her action as you wrapped her body into your own embrace and cuddled her head on your side.

"Thank you... thank you for giving me a chance, Sana. I'll do everything I can not to ruin this. I love you.

She leans away fron your shoulder and holds your shoulders as she traces your face super close between each other. "I'm so proud of you, YN. You deserve it."

"And yes, I would be glad to be your girlfriend... and your future wife soon." She winked before she pulls your head next for a wholesome romantic kiss.

Your families and even the judge clapped and congratulated in support for your newfound stronger relationship with Sana since this is a sight to behold seeing two couples aren't destined to be torn apart from each other... but rather to stay together forever despite all the harsh and crucial situations they had gone through.

Love, in cooperation with time; always finds a way to connect two people's hearts no matter how long it might take, and this... is the way their story had to go.

[ceilidho]

bae sorry for the lewdness 😞

ghost makes soap eat his cum out of his gf when he’s done with her. like holds his head down and tells him that he’s not letting him up until she’s clean and has come like twice.

whether it’s ghosts gf or soaps gf is up to you bae also i love u sm omg ur brain is so beautiful, i love saltwater sm 🫶🏼🫶🏼🩷🩷

nonono it's totally fine, this is a nsfw blog (i say that knowing i probably have limits, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it)

i was legit just thinking about this!!! you read my mind!!! i am a ghost/soap/reader TRUTHER!!! (btw below im going to use "you" instead of ghost's gf but let me know if that reads weird)

This would definitely be part of the 'verse I wrote where Ghost invites Soap to a threesome with him and his gf to obscure his real desire to fuck Soap. Because Ghost can't just be obvious about it, now can he? He hasn't even fully acknowledged it himself. So while he definitely treasures and loves you (in his own quiet, unsaid way, of course), you're definitely the vehicle through which he's able to explore his own desire for Soap. At least at first.

At first, it's something innocuous like kissing you after Soap's done with your mouth (kissing at first, and then almost immediately anytime after you've had Soap's dick in your mouth, his kiss almost sloppy then, hungrier than ever). Then it's fingering Soap's come out of you, feeling it string between his fingers.

Then, pent up and at his wits end, he holds Soap's head down after he's come in you and makes him clean you up. Tells him how to eat you out just right, big fingers twisted in Soap's mohawk holding him down. Neither of them acknowledging how quick his cock plumps up again, even after just coming. Or how he makes Soap open wide after, maybe even licks your juices off his lip.

(This is, of course, all true for Soap as well, who's a bit less confused by his own sexuality, but willing to get whatever scraps Ghost throws his way.)

[anadiasmount]

imagine you're dating jude but no one knows and you're at an event or game or whatever and you hear some girls talking about him and how he's so hot and blah blah blah and you're just sitting there smiling to yourself because no matter how much they talk, at the end of the day he comes home to you.

let’s say you’re back home and he’s cooking dinner for you after the match, and he’s just so excited and over the moon over the performance and goal! literally he cannot stop tapping about it and mentioning just how perfect it was.

you sat on the counter there quietly listening with the biggest grin on your face bc you love when he talks about his achievements and career, you could listen to him all day. it makes you not only super grateful but yet more trusted and wanted by this bc since your relationship was yet to be known by everyone.

“you’re awfully quiet? something on your mind?” he asks dropping the spatulas and striding over to you. placing a small kiss on your lips while he pulls you towards him, chest to chest. “nothing. i’m just so proud of you jude. it makes me so happy how far you’ve comed along in just months. and to be able here to support and love you along the way it the tip of the iceberg,” you grab his face a place a small kiss to his cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark behind.

you giggled at his confused reaction when you give him a teasing look, showing him that you were hiding something from him. jude groans and insists you tell him what you’re thinking of, “tell me please, you can’t give me that look and not say anything?”

when his big hands trail over your sides you moved around to try him to stop, your feet banging and making noise on the cabinets below as you try to free yourself from him. “fine fine. just be quiet! your mom is still here,” you say, motioning to bring his voice to a whisper or quiet voice.

your mind drifts back off to the game where you had been sitting patiently for the match to start. it was cold out so you kept playing with your beanie and scarf to get it warm and close to you. while getting distracted by the new stadiums latest features, your head cocks forward to the group of four girls who brought up your boyfriends name.

no one knew the two of you we’re together, you and jude agreeing to when time was right as all you wanted was to share the most right now when no one was seeing or being judgy. plus knowing how protective his fans are, you weren’t quite ready for their comments.

a blond girl spoke up about he different things he would do to him, the red head about how he gave out big dick energy, and the two brunettes were chatting how hot and talented he was, that it should be them supporting him, and only them. you sat there with your arms crossed and feeling buddy, an expression of wanting to let the world know he was your boyfriend.

“during the game the girls infront of me, kept going on and on of how hot and sexy you were, that you legit give out big dick energy, that’s you’re super talented and such a mommas boy. how they could treat you better and give you the world and it just made me laugh,” you chuckle and reenacted their voices and hang gestures, giving him a huge grin.

jude laughs loudly and throws his head back, forgetting the promise he had just done prior to keep his voice down. “little did they know my girlfriend was behind them, looking beautiful in my jersey and supporting me through the end, even if she didn’t agree with me to continue playing,” he says frowning in the last sentence.

“i’ll say it once and i’ll say it again, risks like even how small or big they are, should never be taken. but i can’t do anything about that, let alone you bc ik how stubborn and fearless you are,” you purse your lips together and hug him, feeling him let out a sigh of relief. “i’m just so happy to be here with you after all this time. i love you so so much you know? you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” you say softly kissing his neck, shoulder, and jaw.

“ i know baby, i know, but i only do it bc of the team and for me, we all need each other even in the worst timings. i won’t make it a habit though. and as for me being the best thing in your life, i can say the same. i’ve never met anyone like you, who’s loves me conditionally through my goods and bads, let’s me be the jude i want to be,” he closes the gap and kisses you feverently, whispering i love yous along your lips.

but then comes to a halt and groans, quickly sprinting to the stove where he freaks out over the food, “MY CHICKEN! ITS BURNING!”

[mazzystar24]

…… i can’t wait until these people are gone

This is in fact the ask that the draft didn’t save for so if my answer is worse than the original I will cry

My eye is legit twitching

So we all know this is bs but let’s go through point by point for why this is bs

“Eddie hasn’t done anything like that for him” (dropped everything and helped him) - this is honestly down to how they act with their emotions, Eddie bottles things until they turn into an emergency drop everything and deal with it situation but buck will have ongoing issues that he’ll need help with and he’ll seek it as it happens (e.g his parents or his injuries etc) and when he does Eddie IS there and shows up for him and helps him but we haven’t had him be in sort of a drop everything scenario (except the Buckley family dinner scene and we don’t know where he went after but the scene we see after that is buck talking to who? Eddie)

“Constantly makes jokes about bucks trauma” - as someone with ptsd and my own fair share of trauma and with traumatised friends I feel like once a certain level of rapport is reached you can joke with eachother about traumas 1. They both do it (e.g bucks “didn’t you just have one of those?”) 2. It’s never in emotional or vulnerable moments 3. It never crosses a line 4. Bold criticism considering Tommy made a daddy kink joke and a comment abt how bucks dad is still alive when buck was opening up abt why Bobby matters sm to him 5. It’s received and delivered well 6. It’s not actually constantly it’s a handful at most and the most outright one is abt the tsunami and that was HIS trauma too dont y’all forget my dude thought his son was dead for a hot minute

Told his team buck needed to get over being crushed by a fire truck- in that scene the writers did everything but flat out say he was projecting, when he’s talking abt bottling things up and his dads advice and all that stuff and the audience KNOWS that he’s just been through a bunch of traumas that he’s bottling up and “getting over” for the sake of Chris, they’re basically flat out telling you he’s projecting, now the minute that hen and bobby point out that buck feels alone what does Eddie do? He drags him out of bed and attempts to motivate him launching “operation buck up buck” in chimneys words, now mind the fact that he doesn’t do this for himself or give himself the same kindness because he genuinely believes you deal with things by ignoring them (reminder this is untherapised Eddie two eps away from fight club) but despite believing that he knows it’s what buck needs so he does it for him

He’s never once apologised for buck and made buck apologise to him- I’m assuming this is abt lawsuit era, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again no one in the lawsuit era was perfect that’s the whole point, either they’re all in the wrong or they’re all excused because they all had their reasons, Bobby kept buck behind and lied but he was scared to lose him, Buck sued and didn’t tell anyone and went no contact and shared personal shit but he’s just been through a bunch of trauma and his father figure and the man who was by his side the whole time through rehab basically said it isn’t good enough (in bucks brain) and that all that work still means he can’t get back to doing his life’s purpose, Eddie has had hit after hit trauma after trauma with no time to breathe in between AND THEN HIS BEST FRIEND GOES NO CONTACT BECAUSE OF WHAT BOBBY DID AND HE SUES BOBBY AND THE DEPARTMENT WITHOUT TALKING IT OUT WITH ANYONE AND SHARES PERSONAL INFO THAT HIS LAWYER THROWS IN HIS FACE, and while dealing with all the aforementioned trauma Eddie has to deal with Chris’ trauma and Chris missing buck and Eddie not being able to do anything abt it, so yeah honestly he WAS owed an apology (but again imo all sides have justification) and it’s not like he was a dick to buck for an extended period of time, he lasted one shift being bitchy and giving silent treatment and then buck had one emotional talk with puppy eyes and an apology and Eddie instantly was like ofc I forgive you🙄just don’t do it again☝️🤨 and again bold criticism when buck apologised to Tommy for what? Not being ready to come out to his friend in public after exactly one queer kiss and mid first queer date?? And then got ditched on the side of the road by Tommy???

He never once acted like a good friend outside of the will and the hospitals- “you don’t have to be anything for anyone, no one is the same from one day to the next and things like this change us so what changed in you?” “Did you say anything that wasn’t true? Well look maybe you could’ve come at it a little differently but if that’s how you feel, how they made you feel you have every right to say so” “that’s not your fault”“I had to do it- I know you did” “and what you think you failed? I failed that kid more times than I care to count and I’m his father but I love him enough to keep trying and I know that you do too” “there is no one in this world I trust with my son more than you”“you saved him, that’s how he remembers it and now its his turn to do the same to you” “now am I allowed to ask how you are?” “ you died buck you’re gonna feel a lot of different ways about that…I found the best way is to let yourself feel it” - and that’s not even all of them just a few favourites but my thumbs are sore

Eddie has left buck out from so many things and never realised it was wrong- 7x04 is literally the only time we’ve seen that and remember Tim said the whole episode is bucks perspective and I said this before the ep even aired in this ask but it’s still true that for Eddie I think he just genuinely is so secure in their friendship that he didn’t think buck would be insecure abt it and when he does he is actually the one who puts it together and sends Tommy to buck - I go a little more in depth in this post that turned out to be a draft that I freed from my drafts just for this ask also what did we see him exclude buck from? Basketball that he doesn’t like and that he’s asked him to join in multiple times? Watching a fight that he had no previous interest in? Muay Thai that he doesn’t know how to do and again showed no previous interest in? Like when buck and Eddie are close y’all say they’re codependent and unhealthy and when Eddie has other friends y’all say he’s a bad friend?

Tommy was the one who apologised to him - at EDDIES URGING BECAUSE BRO WAS LAID UP AFTER BUCK SPRAINED HIS ANKLE???😭😭

“Tommy has been doing all the things Eddie hasn’t” - youre so right actually like putting a damper on bucks mood or having a racist past or having like 10 lines and the majority of them being sardonic and kinda insensitive, making an emotional moment into a sexual one and having like 5 minutes of screentime 🤩🎀

Wow babe I have a degree in yappology and a minor in ranting for real sorry for the long response 😭😭😭

[candysweetposts]

MCL NG ep 6 edit (pt 1)

Haaa... finally. This episode was a roller coaster ;). Also, I'm so proud of the hair. Just look at it.

HC Time:

Elizabeth doesn't have fond memories from the carnival. In fact is the opposite. She thinks the place is dangerous. Once, when she was 10, she went with her father to the carnival where there was this clown guy shaping balloons. She asked for a flower and the guy said he didn't have the color she wanted and told her to follow him. Luckily, her father was there and nothing happened. After that, they found out the guy was a creep.

About the Danica incident: Elizabeth hates her. Since she doesn't have pets, she didn't get it why would Danica invest so much in her cats, saying "They're going to die in a couple of years anyway". Not only that, the fact that she's "a traitor" made Elizabeth question why is everyone so friendly with her, especially Elenda, whom she now thinks is either stupid or she had something going on. She even wanted to ask her "Why didn't you go with her if you sooo BFFs?", but fortunately didn't because Jason was there and she wouldn't want to look bad in front of him.

About the rides: Elizabeth didn't care much, I mean, she thought it was fun, but also made her feel nauseous. But she loved doing the games that the carnival had to offer and of course, she got the prizes. She also did eat a lot of sweets.

At the fortune teller, she wanted to go alone to see if it was legit or not. It wasn't obvious and made Elizabeth a bit annoyed.

She wanted to go with Roy on the merry-go-round ride but she felt like throwing up and ran away until she couldn't walk anymore. And Jason being a sneaky little weasel found her. It was the first time she didn't want to see him. Also, his little commend didn't help the situation. She felt better seeing Jason being sort of a gentleman and helping her. After that, she started rambling about how she hates the carnival and Jason agreed. She wanted to do something more fun here and that's when Jason's eyes sparkled like crazy and ended up going to the mirror maze. Elizabeth felt like a child again trying to hide but didn't want to hide too well. She also played around with him to the point where the cat-and-mouse roles were inverted. The fun was short because Roy came to interrupt it.

Elizabeth went back to the others and then quickly went home. She felt a bit awkward around them for some reason.

Here's the outfit:

Somehow, I always manage to include a shirt in the outfit.

[boldlybrightsun]

Jay Love Language

Jay's love language would be physical affection and Gifting/Receiving gifts.

He is clingy. Read it again.

He will not shy away to shower you with physical affection.

Hugs, kisses, cuddles, rubs, pats, etc. He will attempt all forms of physical affection available on this planet.

He is the type of person who cannot keep his hands off his partner. He feels very happy and safe when he has one arm around you and even just toucing you in general. He can actually become really sad and very grief-stricken if he cannot touch you. (Yes he will legit start mourning if he cannot meet you or be with you)

Gifting and receiving gifts is so important to him!

It doesn't have to be expensive and most of the time it isn't. I apologize to all the Sugar Daddy Jay lovers lmao.

He will definitely spend on you but only if you're his wife or if he is really serious about the relationship.

Do not expect that treatment in the initial stages of the relationship is all I'm saying. Moving on..

The type of gifts he loves to give would be something special for you and you only like composing a song for you, writing a poem or drawing something. Basically anything creative.

He genuinely prefers that you do the same and give him something really personal. Remember that Taurus sign is ruled by Venus and Venus not only stands for material stuff but art too.

Now, I'm not saying he wouldn't prefer material stuff, he definitely would, but he is someone who knows exactly what he wants if you're trying to impress him with material stuff I bid you good luck. Unless you really know what he likes personally it might actually be really hard to please him in terms of gifts.

He is the type to share his food with you and take you out to places he deems worthy enough for you to visit. He wouldn't let his s/o eat at just some place and would do thorough analysis on whether you would like this place or not. He is one of those people who always says stuff like "Wow this place is nice I'm going to bring my s/o here" much to the dismay of the other members who came with there lol.

Elaborating more on the above point, he cannot shut up about you for the love of God. My s/o did this, went there and looked like this, blah blah. Will not shut up to other people about you. Your biggest supporter.

Though he might not agree, he is very good at consoling people when it is required. If you want him to answer what would he do if you became a worm, sorry, he will say he'll throw you out.

Jay Love Language MTL

Physical Affection == Giving / Receiving Gifts

Quality Time == Acts of Service

Words of Affirmation

[sailoryooons]

F*ck Christmas | myg (m)

❆ Paring: Yoongi x f. reader

❆ Summary: Making hating Christmas your entire personality was never the plan. Then again, it seems bad things only ever happen around Christmas - like discovering your fiancé cheating on you, forcing you to move back to your sleepy hometown. But Min Yoongi happens to love Christmas, and if there is one thing your very stubborn childhood crush is going to do, it’s try to reignite your Christmas spirit. Even if he has to force-feed it to you with gingerbread cookies and too-sweet eggnog.

❆ Word Count: 23,466

❆ Genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

❆ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❆ Warnings: Reader is miserable to start this and isn't very nice to Yoongi because she has Feelings and unpacked issues, a lot of nostalgia, mentions of depression and depictions of anxiety, mentions of parent deaths (Yoonig's mom, readers dad), a lot of familial guilt, reader isn't always The Best, Yoongi's dad has some failing memory with old age, Yoongi and reader and their endless pining, cheesy and very contrived scenarios, explicit language, recreational drinking, explicit sexual content including, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving) fingering (f. receiving), Big Dick Yoongi, bodily fluids, established safeword, honestly emotional fucking ok, reader being a bit in subspace/overwhelmed during sex, cheesy as fuck ending

❆ Published: December 28, 2022

❆ A/N: Holy shit this is finally done. It is days, late, about 10k more words than it was supposed to be because I couldn't shut the fuck up, and it is not my favorite thing I have ever written, but I hope that you enjoy it anyway, and that you find some comfort if you have a hard time during the holidays like I sure as shit do (which is why this fic is legit so late ijsdgkjng). Eternally grateful to M for being my mental crutch during this process, reading to make sure it doesn't suck and constantly assuring me I'm not writing a total car wreck. Super pleased to have been able to write with @here2bbtstrash @gimmethatagustd and @nabiolive so please please please make sure you check out their fics when they're posted (Jai's is posted now so GO READ!!!!)

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

  Masterlist | Ask |  Collab Masterlist

The monotonous shuffle of feet, mechanical click of the baggage claim conveyor, and three-toned chime before a muffled and completely unintelligible airport announcement work together in tandem to make a grating symphony. 

You spot your neon green, plastic suitcase drifting through the black flaps of the conveyer. As it nears, a cluster of people block your access, huddling and waiting for their bags right up against it. With an angry sigh, you navigate around them, throwing a glare as you reach for your back and haul it off the conveyor. 

People who crowd baggage claim when their bags aren’t out are at the top of your travel intolerances, second only to people who clap when the plane lands. 

Wheeling your suitcase toward the entrance as fast as you can, you look at your lock screen to see that your mother has blown up your phone with text messages.

[Mom]: Gate G

[Mom]: I’m at gate G

[Mom]: I still have the white Macaran. Gate G I am waiting by it.

[Mom]: What are you wearing? I will try to pull up closer. 

[Mom]: They are asking me not to wait. Do you have your bags yet? Is it close to Gate G?

“For the love of Christ,” you mutter under your breath, shoving the device in your pocket. 

The airport doors open, making a stuttering suction sound as they do. Cold air hits you in the face, making you flinch and squint. 

Just near the column marked ‘G’ your mother waits in her white car, waving wildly when she sees you. Despite your temporary annoyance, you give her a tight-lipped grin as she climbs out of the car, running to you with hand motions signaling she wants your bag. 

“Hi, hi!” she cheers, grabbing you quickly for a brief hug before making grabbing motions toward your bag. “Here, let me! Let me!”

“It’s fine,” you assure, trying to wheel the heavy bag away from you. You both end up wheeling it together, your mom refusing to let go of the handle until she’s opening the trunk and you’re hauling it into the back. “Thanks.”

Inside the car, the leather seats are heated and the hot air is blasting enough to threaten a nosebleed. You close the vents as your mother gets in, saying something you can’t hear over the blaring horns, slamming of her door, and fumbling with her seatbelt.

“What?”

“How was your flight?”

Awful. Long. Filled with absolute dread of the finality of your one-way ticket. Wondering if the movers had successfully delivered your shit to storage and dropped your car off at your mother’s house.

Naturally, you say none of these things. You offer canned responses with forced happiness that your mother doesn’t detect. She’s just happy to see you. The thought makes you soften a little.

Outside the world is covered in sheets of white. You know the winding roads well. Your mother talks about how it’s just the two of you for Christmas morning, but that she is volunteering at the homeless shelter on Christmas Eve. You take this in with a soft hum, eyes watching as you pass Mulberry street.

If you drive down another mile and take a left, you’ll be at Plaza Center, the mecca of your childhood with a movie theater, a Blockbuster turned Mattress Firm, Lucky Strike bowling alley, and a combination grocery store and liquor store where you used to huddle outside in the cold while waiting for someone’s fake ID to work. 

Soft music plays in the background as the tires hum on the road. You pass by the newer additions to the town – Starbucks, Olive Garden, Longhorns – they’ve all replaced longtime restaurants and a laser tag place that you remember having three birthdays in a row at. 

“Tired?” your mom asks, drawing you from trying to draw up the red brick houses from memory instead of watching them blur by. You hum. “You can take a nap later, get that airplane yuck off of you. Yoongi is working on fixing those damned cabinets. He ripped out the whole thing-“

“What?” 

“What what?”

“Why is Yoongi in your house?”

Your mother blinks at you owlishly as she pulls up to the stop light. You realize suddenly that she’s in one of your father’s old sweatshirts from university. It cuts you like a knife as you readjust yourself in the seat, suddenly tense and griping the door. 

“Min Yoongi still lives here?”

“Of course he does,” she scoffs and turns when the light changes. “Do you not keep up with him? You guys used to be such good friends.”

“Why is he at the house?”

“I just told you, he’s re-doing those damn cabinets. They had mold in them.”

For a moment, you just slow-blink at your mother. Min Yoongi is in her house – your house, now. You haven’t seen him since college. You knew he had moved back after school to help move his dad into a home, but he was supposed to leave once his dad was settled. 

He was… well he was supposed to be a big-shot architect. You just assumed he was. It occurs to you that you can’t remember the last time you even looked at Yoongi’s social media, though that was more on purpose than you’d like to admit.

Who wants to see what their life-long crush is still up to after they’ve long stopped talking to you?

“So you had him do our cabinets? He’s an architect, not a contractor.” 

“You really don’t know shit,” your mom laughs. “Yoongi took over his dad’s shop down on Miriam. Home Depot keeps trying to run him out, but most of us still like the comfort of Min’s Hardware. Plus, he spends the entire last quarter of the year building toys and the like for the children’s home and new chairs and furniture for the old folks home.”

You pause. “Is Old Man Min-“

It’s hard to bring yourself to finish the sentence. You remember the bleak affair of summer 09’ when Yoongi’s mother passed away, but you feel like someone would have told you if his father had passed. 

Thankfully, your mother shakes her head. “Still kicking. Yoongi didn’t want to sell out to one of those land development companies, though. They kept trying to pressure him – they want to open up a Super Target – but he said no.”

“Huh.” You lean back in the seat as your mom turns down your street. There is a sense of trepidation as you pass rows of brick-and-mortar homes with nondescript cars in the drive. “Good for him. Fuck Target.”

“Yeah, well. I wouldn’t mind a target, but I certainly don’t want it to replace Min’s.” 

A dark blue truck sits in the drive of your home. It’s hard not to focus on it, your eyes drifting from the swan-shaped mailbox to the giant blow-up decorations still wiggling, even covered in snow. The wind chimes are frozen on the porch and there’s a tarp on the swing set in front of the kitchen window.

The kitchen window, where you vaguely make out a shape with his back turned.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. You have no reason to be nervous to see Min Yoongi and yet the thought of awkwardly walking into the kitchen like hey how are you threatens to make your demand your mom drive you back to the airport even though you have nowhere to go.

No home to go back to. No fiancé to-

Your mom shuts off the dark and slides out. She’s still rattling on about the developers buying up land and putting in condos and luxury apartments that no one can afford. You’re a beat behind her, slipping a little on the icy drive as you scramble out of the vehicle and retrieve your bag. 

Inside your chest, your heart pounds against your ribcage. You keep glancing out the window, wondering if you’ll suddenly see Yoongi’s soft, sweet face. Kicking ice off her boots on the porch, your mother opens the door as she talks on, breezing in and to the side to take off her boots.

You step in awkwardly. Unfamiliar. 

Everything in your view is the exact way you remember it, except suddenly… None of this feels like yours. Or like anything that has ever belonged to you. To your right, there is an open doorway that leads to the study – or the computer room as your dad chronically called it. It’s dark inside but you can see the indents on the carpet from the faded office chair, and the power-down Dell on the desk with multiple broken drawers. 

On the right is a cubby where you can kick your shoes off and hang your bag. You follow your mother’s example and take off your boots, feeling in a daze as your eyes drift down the hall. There’s a set of stairs that lead to the second floor just beyond the door to the computer room, and the living room and kitchen open up at the end of the hall.

Christmas music and the smell of cinnamon float down. There’s a lump in your throat as your mom walks toward the living room – and ultimately where the kitchen is. And Yoongi. Who is apparently hammering at something loudly, from the sounds of all the banging that drowns out the sound of Michael Bublé. 

“I’m gonna lay down,” you blurt before your mom can enter Yoongi’s line of vision. You’re frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, heart hammering. “The plane ride really exhausted me and I have a bit of a headache. Yoongi’s banging will make it worse.”

She frowns. “Well at least come to say hello.”

“I’ll see him later,” you assure her, moving toward the hardwood stairs and bending to pull up your bag. “It’s a small town, no big deal. Tell him I said hello.”

You’re halfway up the stairs when your mother says your name, irritation evident. You don’t respond, jogging the rest of the way. The bottom of your bag clips one of the stairs, making you stumble. You curse and recover before rushing down the right side of the hall, past the pictures on the wall and your open bathroom with the mermaid curtains straight into your room where you slam the door.

Leaning against it, you close your eyes and take a few breaths. In and out. In and out. Downstairs, the hammering pauses. You assume your mother is talking to Yoongi. Guilt eats away at you like a worm to an apple. You shove it down and walk into your room proper, trying not to think about how you want to avoid the man downstairs at all costs. 

Collapsing on your bed, you flinch and grab the mattress, forgetting how springy it is as they twang under the sudden weight. Your room is exactly how you left it. Aquamarine walls, a sea turtle lamp, a horrible collection of Justin Bieber memorabilia including a lunch box you can’t ever remember using, and an old box TV with a tiny DVD player. 

A broken lava lamp stands frozen in time on the white, paint-chipped dresser. You wonder if it even turns on anymore. The rolling closet door is open, empty save for extra sheets and towels and a couple of Vera Bradley duffle bags your mom never tossed out. 

Everything is the same and yet… you have never felt more like a stranger in your own home.

Pulling the scale pattern quilt from under you to wrap yourself in, you close your eyes and drift off to sleep, although the hammering downstairs starts once again.

-

A knock on the door and your mom’s voice telling you to come eat dinner pries you from sleep. Your limbs feel heavy and your back and neck ache with the unfamiliarity of the springy bed. Your thoughts are honey-thick as you try to remember that you’re not in your apartment – your old apartment that is no longer yours – and that your ex is not with you.

Mouth dry and limbs sluggish, you manage to trek down the stairs, footsteps heavy and awkward. There's still Christmas music playing somewhere in the living room, but it’s at a manageable volume now. You try not to think about it too much, finding Christmas music particularly grating this year.

The smell of dinner drifts from the kitchen and your stomach growls viciously, reminding you that you only had cheese and crackers for lunch. You rub your eyes, entering the open concept area with the kitchen facing the living room and the dining room tucked on the side of the kitchen against the glass-paned windows that look out into the yard.

Your mom sets something on the table and straightens, gesturing to something on the island countertop as she says, “Will you bring those potatoes over, Yoongi? I keep forgetting them on the counter.”

Two things happen at once. 

The first thing that happens is the slow-blink turning of your head, suddenly aware that a man is standing in your kitchen looking at you. Your feet glue themselves to the floor and your mouth parts a little in surprise and confusion that there is another human being in your house outside of you and your mother. 

The second thing that happens is the surge of panic and curiosity slamming into one another, two rogue waves at war as they unsteady the sleeping waters of your mind post-nap. You feel the urge to turn on your heel and run back up the stairs, but you’re stuck staring at Yoongi, both terrified to see him and... well you haven’t seen him in a while. You’re curious. 

Yoongi’s hair is blonde - a color he hasn’t had in years - with silky lowlights that look really good on him. Though most of it is tucked behind delicate, round ears that are decorated with his signature silver hoops, a few rogue strands fall endearingly over soft cat eyes. He’s broad in the shoulders, the material of his shirt pulled taught over the hint of biceps.

And Yoongi’s face – devastating as always. You always thought that he looked like a child of the moon goddess, smooth, milky skin with a rose-flushed mouth. His mouth as always looks soft, and as it breaks into a smile now when he sees you, it feels like the entire world might spin out of control. 

“Have a good nap?” Yoongi questions. His voice is so much deeper, raspy, and soft, and nothing at all like what you remember. But it’s been how long since you’ve seen him? At least four years. Maybe five. 

“Huh?” you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, your brain unable to connect the dots and form anything else.

Yoongi chuckles and ducks his head a bit, pink in the cheeks. He picks up the glass dish of potatoes that your mother asked for, rounding the island and putting it on the dining room table. He moves in your childhood home with ease, returning to the kitchen and popping up a drawer for a serving spoon.

“Jet lag, much?” that teasing tone of his is still there and you suddenly remember being in the ninth grade, hiding your face in your hands because he was poking fun at you for something innocent. “I don’t bite.”

“Why are you here?” Again, you’re unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth. This time, however, you have enough sense to realize how rude it sounds. Swallowing past the rapidly forming knot of anxiety, you move toward the table. “You don’t have a headache from all that hammering you’ve been doing?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits down at the table across from where your mother has seated herself, pouring a glass of red for herself. “You seem to have slept through it fine.”

“Yeah, well.” You sit down next to your mom, suddenly feeling defensive. “A five-hour flight will do that to you.”

Yoongi hums, agreeing as he glances up at you again. You’ve had dreams about those damn eyes, written about them in childhood diaries. Wondered about them late at night, when your ex was fast asleep next to you.

Thoughts and memories of Min Yoongi paint several parts of your life. Childhood crush. Close friend. The subject of your dreamy sighs. The crush had worn off around college, but there was always that something when you looked at him. Perhaps the acknowledgment that he was impossibly beautiful and charming. 

Or maybe the inescapable fact that you might always harbor something extra for him.

Averting your gaze, you clear your throat and grab the bottle of wine from your mom, pouring a healthy amount. “Why are you ripping out the cabinets anyway?”

“There was mold in the back of them.” He accepts a plate of meat from your mother. “I came over to help your mom pull down that bone china she keeps hidden away and found it.”

You glance at your mom. “You couldn’t use a ladder?”

“You try having old hips,” she huffs. “Yoongi isn’t that far. He’s a doll and he’s always a phone call away.” 

There is nothing wrong with Yoongi helping your aging mom. At least, that is what you tell yourself as she asks Yoongi about a TV show both of them have been watching. You fill your plate and listen to them, hovering on the edge of a conversation you can’t contribute to.

“And then she had the nerve to act like she was holier than thou,” your mother agrees, shaking her head. “The Greens are going to get theirs, now that Alicent was exposed for a snake.”

Yoongi snorts. “I don’t know, no one ever gets punished the way we want on that show.”

“Who is Alicent?” you ask, dubious.

Both of them look at you. Your mom waves you off with a roll of her eyes at Yoongi. “She doesn’t watch TV. I’ve been begging her to watch for weeks now. Thankfully you caved in.”

“I just don’t have time for TV.”

Your mom pats your hand delicately. It doesn’t feel comforting like it should. “I know. Thankfully I can gossip about it with Yoongi.”

They seem comfortable. Your mom laughs as Yoongi rants about some character arch you have never heard of. You watch as your mom cuts into her steak alongside him, handing him sauce for his diced pieces. He thanks her easily, not missing a beat as he uncaps it.

Suddenly, you feel like a stranger in your own house. All this time you’ve been living on the other side of the country, Yoongi has been here doing... whatever it is that he does. Making himself comfortable in your home. Filling a space for you. And now that you’re here, it’s like you don’t exist.

No one asks you how you’ve been. No one asks for a single detail about your life. Whether it’s out of pity because they know you’ve been left out in the cold with no home, no fiance, and leave from work because... well they felt bad that you were cheated on and booted from your apartment.

It's like you don’t exist anywhere. You don’t exist in your mom’s life. You don’t exist in Yoongi’s.

And it drives you mad.

You get up abruptly from the table, startling both of them. “I’m feeling ill,” you mutter tightly. You’re moving away from the table as your mother sputters, surprised. “I’ll try to eat later, I’m going to lie down.”

“Do you need help up the stairs?”

Yoongi’s question and concern seem genuine. It makes the sudden gnawing feeling inside of you even worse. “No,” you snap. “Enjoy your dinner and conversation.”

They both call after you as you turn and hightail it out of the kitchen and toward the steps. Everything feels blurry and the tightening of your threat is the only warning of sudden tears. It feels silly and pathetic, to suddenly be worked up into a frenzy over – well you’re not really sure over what. But it doesn’t sting any less, whatever this sense of feeling left out is.

Crawling into your bed, you pull the covers over your head just like you used to when you lived here last. The tears burn hot down your face and you press the heels of your hands into your eyes, as though you can grind the tear ducts to dust. 

You hate being home. You hate that it doesn’t feel like home. But most of all, you hate that at the height of your misery and embarrassing life, Min Yoongi now has front row tickets.

Somehow, you manage to sleep.

-

The sound of thunder wakes you up in the morning. No, it’s not thunder. Thunder comes and goes in slow rolls of sound, fading, and building in a gentle percussion. This is the constant booming of something bang bang banging in a repetitive pattern. 

Irritation drags you from sleep. You peel the covers from over your face, blinking and groaning in the morning light that filters through the curtain. Crust forms in the corner of your eye. You rub furiously until you see colors explode behind your lids.

Blinking until your room swims into view, you stare up at the ceiling a little longer until you remember that you’re in your childhood room. And that the loud banging sound coming from downstairs is probably Yoongi.

The sticky, nasty feeling from last night curls inside of you again. Less potent, but still there. Looking back on it, you feel a little dramatic. Watching Yoongi and your mom exist in a space so easily without you while you were there triggered a sliver of guilt you had been nursing since you decided to move home. 

Even now, you ignore the feeling as you slip down the stairs and toward the kitchen. The hunger is demanding and ever-present, and though you’re unsure you want to face Yoongi again after last night, you can’t ignore the dizziness from lack of food. 

Sunlight filters in through the kitchen window. Dust motes float in the air, suspended in gold light. There are pieces of wood and metal piles of hinges and knobs, screws rolling across the counter, and plastic-wrapped pieces of hinges and bolts, but it’s still your kitchen.

There’s still white backsplash against the sink with a yellow duck soap dispenser. There’s a black fridge with chip-clip magnets holding up pictures of your family, your graduation photos, and drawings that you created as a child. The island countertop is buried in Yoongi’s supplies, but you imagine that if it weren’t, there’d be fake fruit in a basket with mugs full of tea gone cold.

Today, Yoongi is in a black, oversized t-shirt, and a beanie. There’s a small speaker next to him, Michael Bublé singing clearly through the kitchen as Yoongi slides a shelf into one of the newly constructed cabinets. 

“You really like Bublé.”

Yoongi flinches, turning around to see you hovering and hesitating near the kitchen counter. He grins a little, wiping his hands on his pants. His blonde hair just barely peaks out from underneath the beanie and his face is flushed red as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back on the counter. There are dark circles under his eyes, but he otherwise looks beautiful first thing in the morning.

“I like Christmas music,” he offers with a shrug. “Tis the season.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes scan the kitchen. “Is there a way to make coffee in this mess?”

He nodes and moves a cabinet, revealing the coffee maker. “Ta-da.” You huff once in laughter before going to your fridge in search of creamer. You sense Yoongi’s dark gaze on you as you do. “How are you feeling?”

“Hmm?”

“From last night? Feeling better?”

“Oh.” You shut the fridge and avoid his gaze. “Yeah.”

He hums. You flick the lid on the coffee and pause, looking around the kitchen for one of the pods to make the coffee. Yoongi leans over with a chuckle and pulls open a drawer, revealing rows of neatly placed Keurig cups.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. 

“Mhmm.” You pop it in and turn the machine on. “How long is your cabinet project going to take?”

“I’ll be finished by tomorrow. Why? Want me gone that bad?”

“You’re loud.”

“Comes with the nature of the job. Sorry, usually no one is here in the morning. Your mom is at the park.”

“Since when does she go on walks?”

He shrugs, dubious of your confusion. “She always goes on walks. Jeez, you have been gone a long time.”

“So what?” You snap, arms crossed. “You know everything about my mom now?”

“I spend a lot of time with her. I help her around the house and she brings me lunch and makes dinner sometimes. I keep her company.”

Tension creeps into your shoulders and neck. Pressing your mouth into a firm line, you turn your back to him, unable to make eye contact as the little sliver of guilt in you strikes at him, viper quick. “Cause I wasn’t here to do it, right?”

“That isn’t at all what I said.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Your name leaves his mouth with a sigh. “Have I done something to upset you? You haven’t seemed keen on me being here since last night. I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up.”

“I wasn’t gone that long.”

“I mean it’s been five years-”

“Sorry I left town because I had a life. I get it, I left home and left my parents here and my mom has been lonely since my dad passed. You’re a knight in shining armor, I get it.”

“What?” You ignore looking at him, despite shuffling closer to you as you pour creamer into your coffee. You feel a nasty tension in your throat. Somewhere, you know that you’ve launched a hate campaign against Yoongi within twenty-four hours of being home. And yet you don’t look at him. “I - wow. Okay, I didn’t think that of you at all. We seem to be on wildly different pages, why would I ever think that?”

Before you can answer, the front door opens and closes. Your mom's arrival has you slithering toward the kitchen’s exit, throwing Yoongi a glance. His frown is deep and genuine concern flickers in his eyes. “I don’t think that,” Yoongi ventures again, trying to keep you in the conversation. “I think a lot of things about you, but that isn’t one. This conversation has really gotten away from me, can we start over?”

“It’s fine,” you mutter. “Sorry for assuming.” 

Your mom waves, shrugging off ice-covered boots and a jacket at the door. You wave and rush out that you’re going up for a shower to wash off the airport funk. She waves you off and grins, heading down the hall and launching into a conversation with Yoongi. 

A nasty feeling trails you up the steps. You don’t even make it to the top of the stairs before you already know you’ve been irrational, emotional, and completely out of line. But seeing Yoongi after all this time, seeing the way he’s there for your mom in ways you aren’t, and nursing wounds of moving home against your will and plans… it’s a lot to swallow. 

In your room, you sit on the bed with your coffee on the nightstand, head dropped into your hands as you cry. It’s been coming all night. It’s been coming since you caught your ex in the apartment with another person. It’s been coming since you were no longer what they wanted in mind, body, and soul. It had been coming since you were asked to leave the apartments because you had moved in - not the other way around. 

The pain festering inside of you for the last two and a half weeks isn’t Yoongi’s fault. In fact, part of you is surprised that your grief and guilt at dedicating the last five years to someone who you didn’t even like that much and who has now cheated on you has surfaced in the face of Min Yoongi. 

It isn’t his fault that you rarely came home to start. It isn’t his fault that after Christmas two years ago, you didn’t want to come home at all. Didn’t want to be in a home without your dad. Didn’t want to be in a home that wasn’t in your new city, away from old failures, away from old hurts. Didn’t want to be in a home down the street from the Mins.

“Jeez,” you laugh at yourself, no mirth evident. “What better way to kick off seeing Yoongi again?”

-

Yoongi finishes the cabinets the next day and you manage to avoid seeing him again, unsure how to fix the weirdness. 

A few days later, you come down to see your mom on the couch, tucked into a flannel-patterned blanket, and watching Hallmark movies. You cringe at the thought of poorly budgeted, badly scripted movies. Your mom, however, has always loved them. And your dad always watched them with her.

Something softens inside of you. You can’t remember the last time your ex willingly watched anything they were uninterested in for your sake. Perhaps because they had long been fucking someone else. 

Shaking the thought from your mind, you trail to your mom, slipping wordlessly onto the couch and pulling an extra blanket over your legging and socks. Your mom shoots you a wide grin, eyes crinkling at the edges. She reaches over, patting your hand and squeezing it before settling in, keeping her hand on yours. 

Though you turn to the TV, your eyes sting as you try to focus on the plot of a newly single woman who has moved back to her sleepy hometown during the holidays. Naturally, there is a storied past with the beautiful but sensitive male lead who owns a failing bookshop. It’s unsurprising when the female lead takes a job there unwillingly, and you watch 

“These are very cheesy,” you observe, watching as the two leads fall in love over clumsily spilled coffees, one full of Christmas cheer and one that hates Christmas. “Why do you like them so much?”

Your mom shrugs. “They always have a happy ending, they’re easy to follow along, and they fuel that little hope that the holidays have something a little special.” She looks at you when you grunt and she sighs. “I know you haven’t had very good holidays the last few years. But you used to really enjoy them.”

“They’re just… too much. It’s just another day.”

“Hmm. They mean a lot to some people, though. Take Yoongi for example - he’s doing extra work at the shop selling wares, making pieces for Christmas, and trying to finish making toys for the children’s home this year. He hardly sleeps.”

You think about the dark circles under Yoongi’s eyes that morning. “That’s a lot.”

“He could use the help.” She glances at you from the corner of her eye. “You know where the shop is.”

“Yeah.”

Morning fades into afternoon. You find yourself shaking your head around a mouthful of a sandwich with crunchy chips in the middle as your mom settles next to you, placing a glass of iced tea on the table. Your legs are crossed and you lean forward to press greasy, chip fingers into the paper towel you’re using as a napkin.

“She is so stupid if she doesn’t believe him,” you mumble around your mouth full of food. “Like hello? He has no reason to lie to her.”

Your mom's laughter fills the room and she shrugs. Somehow, you’re on your third Hallmark movie, and you haven’t managed to move or do anything productive with your day, like unpacking your bags or looking at the computer room full of the shit that the movers delivered to your mother’s house now that you don’t have a house. 

“If she believed him,” your mom says with a sip of tea, “Then there wouldn’t be any drama. And without drama, there would be no movie.”

“Ugh, all of these movies are the same.”

And yet you make no move to turn it off or leave. 

When you finish your sandwich and settle back, full and bloated, you realize that you’re rather enjoying just a day watching cheesy movies with your mom. Even if they hit a little close to home on the narrative of your current situation. 

But no - you’re different. Your life is real, and you’re stuck without a home and without a place to go. Clenching your jaw, you force the memories and the words to leave. You don’t want to think about the way your ex gently asked if you had somewhere else to go. You don’t want to think about the words I’m sorry. I love you but I’m not in love with you anymore. 

I mean, you weren’t either but… marriage still seemed like an okay option. A good social move. Something you’d be content with, even if you weren’t head over heels in love.

“Here,” you hold your hand to her for her empty plates. “I’ll do the dishes.” 

Getting away from the TV gives you a second to breathe. The rush of the faucet drowns out the sound of the TV, warm water rushing over your fingers as you run the plates underwater.

Outside, the world is a blanket of snow. You can see Mr. Park across the street shoveling the drive as his wife gets into the car, the taillights kicking on. The grass is frozen, a sea of ice and frozen Christmas decorations.

In the drive, your car is parked next to your mom’s sedan. She hadn’t mentioned that it was delivered, but you don’t know where you would go anyway. You don’t really have any friends to visit. At least, not anyone you’ve kept in touch with enough to call up and go to lunch.

The absence of Yoongi’s truck reminds you that he had been working on the cabinets, drawing your eyes to his craftsmanship as you flip the sink off. With dried hands, you brush your fingers over the lightly stained wood. It’s smooth and cool to the touch, the curves and indents artfully done. 

Yoongi had always been an exceptional artist. His passion has been in buildings and even interior design, but you’re not surprised to see that he’s as easily a handyman and woodworker as he is anything else. 

You think back to what your mom said about him, alone for the holidays and working hard. A sour taste sits heavy on your tongue as you think about your barbed words. 

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you lean against the counter and pull your phone out, flipping through social media until you find his page. There isn’t much in the way of family and friends, but there are plenty of photos of new projects and a beautiful black cat. 

I was excited to see you after all this time and catch up. 

Heaving a sigh, you push off the counter and announce that you’re going to get dressed to run a few places, telling your mom to make you a list if she needs anything. 

Getting dressed is harder than you expect. The urge to crawl back into bed and go to sleep almost wins out, but you somehow manage to pull on the jeans and thick sweater, followed by a scarf and jacket.

There is something empty and strange about the motions. It feels like you’ve forgotten the movement, the slide of clothes foreign to your skin. After two weeks of making phone calls and arrangements for an over-priced hotel bed, you supposed you haven’t gotten dressed much recently. 

Picking up the list from your mom and giving her a kiss, you’re out of the door, glancing down at her slanted script. You huff, laughter cut short by the bite of cold wind. Of course everything she needs is from Min’s Hardware, though you had been planning to go by there anyway.

With a deep breath and squared shoulders, you get in the car and think about how the hell to apologize to Yoongi.

-

Min’s Hardware had its first building expansion when you were in tenth grade. You remember how excited you were when Yoongi told you that his parents bought out the recently emptied arcade next door to add a lumber department. Even in tenth grade, Yoongi had sketched out aisles and systems for the store, layout after layout of the most functional way to accommodate the expansion. 

Before opening day, the two of you and some other kids in the neighborhood had run through the aisles, the smell of cedar and pine and fresh sawdust so wonderfully potent it made you dizzy. Yoongi specifically had shown you the different types of wood and pliability, explaining what he would use each for. 

By then, it was summer heading into eleventh grade and he had already decided he wanted to be an architect. He had insane drawings for new shopping centers the next city over, and wild renderings of his dream buildings full of avant-garde but functional structures. 

From the parking lot, you can see that Yoongi still occupies the same two spaces Min’s has stood in since tenth grade. Except now it shares a parking lot with a Starbucks and Chipotle building, melded together. The line for coffee snakes around the building into the empty parking lot in front of Min’s, a mismatched creature of metal and purring engines. 

Icy ground makes you slip a bit before you steady yourself on the door handle, gasp stuck in your chest before you can breathe out slowly, confident that you won’t slide and bust your ass. 

From the outside, Min’s looks both the same and different. There is a new sign above the store, now with its own light humming in the dark, gray winter sky. Tinted windows prevent you from seeing inside entirely, but you can see the faint outline of racks as you approach. 

Standing in front of the double doors, you suddenly feel the urge to spin on your heel and run in the other direction. If the inside still looks the same, though, the counter is right next to the door, which means if Yoongi is there, he can see you.

Standing. Staring. Looking at the cold, metal handle of the door and not doing anything. 

“Rip the bandaid off,” you mutter to yourself. 

Yanking the door open startles you, the bell on the door chiming wildly with the force of your pull. It’s the same bell that was here when you were a teen, and a tingle slithers down your back at the memory. 

It's warm. The smell of mixed wood hits you, soothing and fresh. To your left is a counter with an elderly gentleman reading a book. He looks up behind the POS system, grinning at you. He’s dressed in a long sleeve shirt with a festive sweater to match the Christmas soundtrack playing over the speakers. 

Your eyes flicker to his badge and you fold your lips to stop the giggle that threatens to escape when you look at his name tag: Elf Ian. 

“Good afternoon, miss!” he greets, shuffling behind the counter. There’s no one else in the store as you crane your head away from the register, looking at the rows and rows of hardware and things for sale. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Yoongi?”

“Mr. Min is back in the carpentry section. I can take you there.”

You wave him off with a smile. “No, that's okay, I know the way.” 

“Really? You’ve been here before? You look like a new face.”

“It’s been a while,” you admit, admiring the layout of the store, each of the towering metal shelves marked with aisle numbers and departments: electrical, flooring, lighting, hardware, paint, heating and cooling, and so on. It’s not as comprehensive as a Home Depot or a Lowe’s, but Min’s has everything that a small town needs. “Back and to the right?” 

He nods with a smile. 

The Rockettes play overhead as you wander toward the back of the store. You take the paint aisle, admiring all of the colorful paint swatch papers. Your shoes scuff on the floor, speckled with some paint splatter near the spray section as though some kids got into the supply. 

You distinctly remember Yoongi accidentally spraying a bright pink into the air once. 

All of the pricing is written in neat, slanted handwriting on thick brown pieces of paper. You pause at the end of an aisle, reaching out to press a finger against one to trace the letters. You recognize the font from years worth of scribbled and pressed flat architecture designs. 

The carpentry section has rows and rows of wood of different shapes, sizes, and variety. Behind all of that is a sizable desk for specialty services, and you know that the door leads to a room that houses Yoongi’s woodworking shop. It had once been the bowling alley section of the arcade before Old Man Min bought out the unit. 

No one mans the tall, L-shaped desk. There are several binders with types of wood, types of stains, project ideas, samples, and frames. You smile when you see some you recognize, the peeling plastic of the front evidence of old age. 

A large counter behind the desk has a few wrapped items that Yoongi must have to be shipped or picked up. There’s a cup of coffee that looks like it’s gone cold, a jar full of wrapped mints for the taking, and a small button that says ‘push for service’ next to the POS system. 

Swallowing thickly, you press the button. An automated chime echoes from behind the wooden swing door that leads to the woodshop. Before Yoongi took over, his father used to make furniture, fill custom orders and make repairs. It’s no surprise that Yoongi has opted to take over this portion, especially if he’s making custom orders for the children’s home. 

The door swings open, breaking your trance. Yoongi pulls up short, eyebrows raise as he wipes sawdust from his apron. He’s in a sweater and jeans today, the sleeves pushed up to his elbow to help him work and his blonde hair shaggy and a little unruly. The pink sheen on his cheeks and nose is all you need to know he had been working pretty hard.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively, looking you up and down. You hate that he looks so guarded. “Coming to custom order a rocking horse?”

You grin. “Actually I was wondering if you did chairs?”

“Hmmm.” He shuffles toward the counter, dropping his hesitance as he leans on his elbows, a sideways smirk on his face. Despite everything, it makes your stomach flip. “We do all kinds of chairs. Rocking, dining, bar stools, even church pews.”

“Wow, Min’s really is the best and where expectations are beyond the Minimum.”

Yoongi groans and covers his face with his hands, flushed pink as you laugh at him. “That’s not even our jingle anymore, okay? I was a kid when I came up with it.”

“I thought it was cute!”

“Yeah, you thought Jackson was cute in the fifth grade too.”

“Isn’t he on his third kid?”

Yoongi gives a loud laugh. “Sixth, Miss I Failed Algebra Twice. He and Jiah have their hands full, I just dropped off a new crib yesterday.”

You whistle, crossing your arms over your chest. Yoongi looks at you, eyes glittering as he smiles. It does something to you, to see your childhood crush here and happy. It’s at such odds with where you are in your life that you don’t know what to make of it. Even Jackson is married and happy with kids. 

“Impressive. You do a lot.”

He hums in agreement and stands up to stretch. “Holidays are always a demand. I’m just trying to keep up to make everyone’s Christmas magical.” You scrunch your nose at that and he frowns. “What?”

“Why does Christmas have to be extra special? It’s just another day.”

He beckons you to come around the counter and to the back as he turns to head for the swinging door. “Come on, Scrooge. Let me spread the magic of Christmas and lead you on your journey to redemption.”

Ignoring the ‘employees only’ sign on the waist-tall swing door that leads to behind the counter, you scoff and roll your eyes. Yoongi stands in the doorway leading to the back, propping it open with a foot for you. As you pass him, the bright light of his shop and the smell of wood stain and chemicals hits you instantly. 

“What do I need to redeem myself for?”

He lets the door swing shut and follows you in, taking the lead as he heads towards a table filled with goods. “For whatever you feel like you need it for.”

Yoongi’s words feel ominous and tug at your heartstrings. You suppose you do feel the need to make up for picking a fight with him. Which is why you ended up here in the first place, despite your mother’s list. 

The shop is a little different than you remember it, but some things are the same. There are giant slabs of wood to choose from in neat shelving, massive wood-cutting machines and saws with warning labels and plastic cards over serrated metal, tubs of chemicals to cleanse wood and shelves of bottles of different liquids for all of Yoongi’s processes. 

At a young age, you were never allowed back in the woodshop. The first day Old Man Min had finally let you come around the corner was just as magical as it feels now. It’s large and daunting, with all of the unfamiliar machinery and the loud hum of an air compressor near the back of the shop. 

A wireless speaker stands on a cluttered counter, blaring holiday tunes over the whine of the compressor until the machine kicks off and it’s just the echo of Grandma Got Ran Over by A Reindeer. 

“It’s weird being back here again,” you murmur, eyes sweeping the toys and pieces of furniture Yoongi has on a table with a laminated sign: children’s home. “You’re really making all of this yourself?”

“Mhmm.” He leans against the table, crossing his arms. “Someone has to. They needed extra toys this year but specifically, some serious upgrades to the rooms of the residents. I’m doing what I can, free of charge, of course.”

“You’re a saint.”

He puts his hands together in mock prayer and bats his eyes before you break out into laughter. He shrugs and murmurs, “Just someone who wants to help. They deserve good furniture year-round, but especially on the holidays.”

“Since when do you like the holidays so much?”

“Since I’ve started spending them alone.”

The answer hits you in the gut. Hard. You stop admiring the shop to look at Yoongi. There’s a soft openness to his face that unnerves you. Brutal honesty offered in exchange for nothing. No expectation for you to share, but proof that he has enough trust for you - however unearned - to just admit what he feels out loud.

That kind of introspection and understanding of self terrifies you. So instead of sharing something of yourself or offering a gentle word to communicate that you get it, or you’re sorry, you gesture to the table where he has carving knives and pieces of wood. “What are you working on?”

If your shift in conversation bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Yoongi rolls with your stilted punches, turning and walking to the table. “Working on carving some designs into the drawer faces for these nightstands I made.” 

“They’re beautiful.”

And they are. Flowers and vines curl on the edges of the wood, perfectly placed in the four corners of the slab. You reach out a hand and hesitate, looking at him to ask permission. He nods and you press your fingers along the grooves he’s carved, following the rough cuts, careful not to get a splinter. 

“You’re still artistic as hell.”

“Thanks. It’s hard on my hands and then I have to sand them all with paper to get into the small details which is hell.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. His words about redemption echo in your head: for whatever you feel like you need it for. 

“Need help?” He looks at you, surprised by your offer. You’re a little surprised too, but the way that you snapped at Yoongi haunts you and there’s something… else that is gnawing at you and has been since you saw him in your kitchen that first night on your return. “I’m serious.”

“If you want to sand some of these down…” 

You nod. “I think I remember how. Do you still keep the sandpaper in that Husky drawer?”

He gives you a crooked grin and nods. “Oooo she remembers. I’m honored.”

You feel warmth in your cheeks. “Tell me what needs to be sanded. I’ll do my best.” 

With a smile larger than what you probably deserve, Yoongi quickly rehashes how to hold the sanding paper, the technique he wants you to use, and assigns you a pile of drawer faces. With your project in front of you, Yoongi goes back to his own thing, the steady hammer against his carving tools drowning out any thoughts swirling in your mind.

At first, it’s slow going. Your shoulders are tense and you keep glancing at Yoongi, a little nervous and wondering why you offered to help. It wasn’t what you had intended to do when you walked into the store, but it feels like the best way to say sorry.

It also means you don’t have to audibly admit that you were being weird and embarrassing with him in your kitchen. 

Time passes and the tension in your shoulders begins to bleed out. The scritch scritch scritch of the sandpaper in your hands is soothing, the repetitive motions creating a soft buzz in your ears as you zone out on your task. 

Focusing on small things has always been a good thing for you. Even when you were little, having something that you could throw yourself into and let your anxieties and thoughts drift away to somewhere far away where they could not hurt you was paramount. 

Now, as the time passes without you noticing, thoughts of your cheating ex-fiance and old apartment melt away like ice on a snow drive. it’s just the pressure in your fingertips, manipulating the sandpaper into different folds to get into the creases of the design. 

Yoongi’s presence stirs your stomach and heart as you look up. He looks over your shoulder at your work before leaning in close to pick up one of the slabs of wood. He’s removed his gloves and runs his fingers over the designs. 

A shiver brushes up your spine as you zero in on Yoongi’s fingers. You have no idea if it’s your newly single status or the fact that it’s Yoongi that makes you stare open-mouthed and hypnotized. His fingers look a little callused from working wood, but you wonder how they’d feel if-

“Not bad,” he hums, giving you a grin before setting down the wood. “I’m pretty impressed. You haven’t lost your touch.”

“Please,” you mutter, looking down at the table and picking at splinters. “I helped you for hours when we were kids.”

“That’s cause I helped you with your math. It’s getting late and I’m a little tired. You hungry?”

You realize that you are. Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you flip it over to see a few texts from your mom and realize that it’s almost seven at night. A sound of surprise escapes you and Yoongi laughs, tapping your elbow gently before walking away.

“Come on,” he insists. “We close early on Sundays. Help me turn all this shit off and close up and we can get food. My treat for helping out.”

“Yes to food, but you don’t have to-”

He waves you off. “Let me do something nice for you, yeah?”

Closing the store feels oddly familiar. While you have never watched Yoongi do it as the owner and operator, there were times as a kid when you finished your homework at the woodshop counter with Yoongi while you waited for his dad to get off and take you home after school. 

The Min’s don’t live far from your home and based on your mom calling Yoongi for every little thing, you assume that he lives in his childhood home now that his dad is in a home for elders. 

Outside, the world is winter-dark and bitter cold. it’s not snowing, but it’s that dreary in-between that makes everything feel heavy and cold-wet. Yoongi shuffles you toward his truck, both of you shivering and cursing as you slide into the cab and he turns it on, cranking the heat and turning on the seat warmers.

“Nice truck,” you comment. And it is nice. “New?”

“New-ish. Being the owner of Min’s Hardware really has its perks.”

You hum. “So you do own it? Just you?”

He nods, putting the car in drive and heading toward an unknown destination. Yoongi keeps his dark eyes on the road as he says, “Bought it from the Old Man when he decided to go into a senior living facility. He’s up at Retger’s - he loves it - but he wanted to put everything in my name before his mind started slipping.”

“I see.” You pick at the hem of your jacket, something heavy settling in your stomach. “How is he?”

“Happy. They have a great staff and a lot for him to do. His memory is on the downside of things. He always remembers me but he gets confused about his days and when I last saw him or what we talked about.”

“Is that hard?”

You almost kick yourself for the question. It slips out before you can ask, and you think of course it’s fucking hard. It’s his dad.

“It is,” Yoongi admits with a drawn-out sigh. Dead air hangs between the two of you as he navigates the backroads of your home, little streets and turns stitching into your very being. “Not sure what’s worse, though,” he adds, glancing at you. “Knowing that the days are numbered and being able to prepare, or losing him suddenly.”

It’s like a constrictor squeezes your windpipe as you look out the window. You can’t see the stars through the tops of the trees, but you get a glimpse of a swollen moon for a second. It’s beautiful and bright, your new point of focus as you nod. 

“I think we can agree that losing a parent is hard,” you offer. “Doesn’t matter how much notice you had.” You hesitate, then go for it. “I haven’t really figured out how to navigate life post-dad. It’s part of why I never come home. I think… I think my mom suffers from it a little.”

For a few moments, Yoongi is silent. You sink further into the seat. Though the admission weighs heavy on you, pressing you down down down into the leather seat, it also feels… good to admit it. Like running a burn under freezing cold water, the sting poignant but soothing at the same time. 

“I think that it’s okay to have your own life.” His voice is very quiet and he looks at you sideways. “And that we all deal with grief in a manner of ways. No one begrudges you for it, least of all your mom. I think you should cut yourself some slack.”

“Hmm,” is your only reply. 

Orange parking lot lights come into view. You chuckle a bit when Yoongi turns into Mars Diner. It’s something out of a Jetson’s episode, with large metal pieces like Saturn’s tilted rings arching over the building and a sun-bleached rocket blasting into the sky.

The lot is full and through frosted windows, you can make out shapes of people in booths. A few kids hang around outside, leaning against their cars and sitting on tailgates, breath misting in the cold. 

Yoongi parks the truck and hops out. You’re quick to follow, shutting the door with a firm click and hiding your hands from the cold in your jacket pockets. The door opens and the bell dings, sound pouring out as a family deposits themself onto the sidewalk.

“Hey there Yoongi,” one of the men says, backing up to hold the door open as the two of you approach. “How’s it going?”

“Hey Scott, it’s going well. How are those new stairs treating you?”

“Sturdy as can be. Thanks again for swinging by to help out.” The man - Scott Ledgfield, you realize - looks at you and squints before he says, “Holy shit kiddo, I haven’t seen you since you were a teenager.”

You look at the town’s local pharmacist with a tight grin, immediately feeling the eyes of his family and friends turn on you, ears pricked by the sound of someone old-but-new returning to the neighborhood. You give a small wave to the people you know.

“Uh,” you stammer. “Just got back. It’s nice to see you, Mr. Ledgefield.”

Your mom’s friend opens his mouth to perhaps ask more but Yoongi shuffles you toward the door and throws a hand in a farewell wave. “Jin will kill us if we keep this damn door open.”

Just as you step into the restaurant in full,  the door clanging shut behind you, a familiar voice hollers behind the counter. “Yoongi, don’t keep that damn door open!”

Inside the diner is exactly how you remember it. A round kitchen sits at the core of the building with two large serving windows facing the door. A full, 360-serving counter circles the kitchen with red vinyl stools in front of them, and booths with planet chandeliers over them are full of people looking over laminated menus.

At the helm of it all is Kim Seokjin standing at the register as he rips a receipt out of the machine, grinning as he hands it over to the woman he’s ringing out. There’s a chrome-color apron tied around his waist and he has a rocket ship name tag that says: Captain Kim.

“Wow,” you mutter as Yoongi waits patiently for the couple in front of him to pay. “Jin running this place with his parents now?”

“Mhmm. Kim Senior is in the back still making everything and his mom does all the billing and admin now. Jin does… well, what doesn’t he do?”

“Yes,” Seokjin agrees as the couple leaves and he leans on the counter, a plastic grin on his face. “What don’t I do?” His eyes slide to you. “Huh. I heard you were coming back to town and thought they were bullshitting me.”

“Who is they?” 

He waves his hand, before telling another server to jump on the register before he opens a swinging piece of counter open with his hip. “You know, the collective they everyone uses when they’re referencing the entire town.”

“I see.”

Seokjin looks the same as he did in college - broad shoulders, narrow waist, beautiful face and dark eyes that shine with trouble or mirth, depending on who you ask. He gestures to you and Yoongi to follow and you do, heading to the back corner near a frosted window that still has plates and baskets on the table.

“How have you been?” Seokjin asks as he begins collecting the previous diners' things. “Didn’t think I’d ever see you back here.”

“I’m okay. I think it’s just temporary, I haven't worked it out yet.”

“Hmm, we always say it’s temporary and now look at us - Yoongi is running Min’s and I’m one burnt hash brown from being spatula’d by a customer.” 

The vinyl covering sticks to your jeans as you try to slide. You’re forced to hop your way into the booth as Seokjin places the dirty plates and dishes on a round platter and grabs a bottle of cleaner from behind Yoongi’s side of the booth.

“Well,” you venture awkwardly. “There’s nothing wrong with being home, right?”

“No,” he agrees and gives you a look that you can’t read. “There’s not.”

Awkward silence hangs in the air at his tone. You chew on your lip and can’t help but feel like somehow you’ve offended him. You weren’t really friends with Seokjin growing up, but he was a friend of friends, and you knew him well enough to attend birthday parties growing up.

Now, you reach for a menu and busy yourself with it as Yoongi clears his throat and asks how business has been with the holiday only a few days away. Seokjin’s tone with you melts away as he answers Yoongi’s question, slinging a towel over his shoulder while chatting. 

A girl who looks in her late teens comes over with an order sheet and pen, sending Seokjin back toward the register where someone has a gift card that no one knows how to ring up. He leaves with a roll of his eyes as the server takes your order before scurrying away.

“Don’t let Jin make you feel weird,” Yoongi says airly, looking over the menu. The dim light from Saturn and Uranus reflect in his dark eyes when you peek at him over your menu. “He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder.”

You smack the table with your menu. “Why on earth does he think that?”

“Have some respect for the decor. We’re not on earth, we’re in space.”

“Yoongi.” 

“Look,” he sighs, putting his menu down. “When you graduated, you were very hellbent on letting everyone know that you didn’t want to come back. Then you got a very nice job in the city, and did just that and never turned back. Which is fine, I respect the hell out of you for it. But you didn’t talk to anyone, and now that you’re back under… whatever circumstances, you act like being here is going to hurt your reputation.”

“I’ve barely seen anyone while I’ve been here.”

“It’s… the posture and the way you look at everyone.” You frown and he grins, reaching over the table to poke the space between your eyebrows. “It’s that,” He insists. “You look at everyone with a very intense scowl and like you have better things to do. That’s all.”

“Do you think that?”

“Nope.”

“Really?”

He looks up at you, expression soft. “I think a lot of things about you. Having a chip on your shoulder isn’t one of them.”

Before you can unravel the weight of his words and the rush of something you feel in response, the server returns with your glass of hard cider and Yoongi’s dark beer. You mull over his thoughts while he places his order and you rattle off your favorite, which you’re pleased to see is still on the menu. 

Quiet settles over the booth as you sip your drink, averting your gaze. He thinks you have a chip on your shoulder. 

When you think about it, you realize that you sort of do. 

Back when you had graduated high school and went to college just an hour away, you swore you wouldn’t go back and take up a job just to stay close to family and what you always knew. Coming from a small town, you felt like you had yet to see the world or experience anything real.

Even in college, it always felt like you were too close. All the same kids you went to high school with became your apartment neighbors and your university classmates, and everyone went to the same parties and fucked the same people.

It was like watching high school repeat all over again. Bringing home drama from college to the holidays, and then hearing what so-and-so did while they were home from school. 

The thought of ever coming back was suffocating. So you took the first job you found that felt like it was lightyears away, stuck right in the middle of corporate America in a screaming city that you could hardly sleep in for the first few months because you were overwhelmed and a little afraid.

City life had become addicting though, and seeing all your little hometown friends go back to mom-and-pop jobs while you climbed the corporate ladder, got engaged and sent really nice presents home as an apology for going to Aspen for Christmas instead of seeing your parents felt powerful and liberating. 

And then your dad died on Christmas. While you were out with friends at a resort. That had been the first blow, the first reason to start thinking that the holidays weren’t for being cheerful, or for celebrating or for… anything, really. 

With that mindset, you spent the next Christmas with your fiance tucked away in your apartment, just the two of you. It had been your anti-Christmas, doing everything that was the opposite. You watched horror movies and ate popsicles, you decorated your house for Halloween and Valentine's day, you did everything possible to forget that you weren’t home opening presents with your parents - no just your mom now - and it worked. 

Now, you’re sitting in your hometown diner across the table from the one person who has always been the exception to the rule, with Christmas music blaring over the speakers and every person wishing you a happy holiday that walks by the table. 

A pit opens up inside of your stomach as you stare at the bubbles rushing to the top of your cider. The same, nasty feeling that made you snap at Yoongi in the kitchen rises up instead of you, a hydra ready to grow more heads and become an untamable beast.

“Where did you wander off to?” Yoongi’s question startles you from your thoughts and you look up at him. “You were so caught up I thought you might make your cider explode like Professor X.”

You laugh, surprising yourself. “Did you just make an X-Men reference?”

“Yeah, I still like comics, okay?”

You hum. “I was thinking that…” You take a large swig of your cider to press the tightness in your throat back. “I was thinking that maybe I do have a chip on my shoulder. I just… the holidays honestly bring out the worst in me, and I think I was already sour about being home.”

Like your admission of guilt on the way over, you feel lighter admitting your thoughts to Yoongi. There’s a pause in the conversation as your server puts down a burger in front of him and your chicken sandwich in front of you. 

“I think,” Yoongi says slowly as he pops a fry in his mouth and chews thoughtfully. “That it’s really easy for the people here to write off anyone who dares to do a little bit better than what they grew up with. For people like Jin, he always knew he’d come back home. I think it’s equal parts jealousy and wanting respect.”

“I don’t mean to make anyone feel disrespected,” you murmur. “Honestly, my distaste for coming home is more to do with the time of year than anything.”

“How so?”

Between bites of your dinner, you tell Yoongi about how your holidays have been over the last few years. How you stopped going home for them because it felt suffocating to be in a house with parents who didn’t understand anything about your love for being somewhere far away. How you stopped going home because if you stayed away with your friends and coworkers, you didn’t have to see how much they missed you.

All this time, you’d been running from guilt. Especially after the passing of your father. Even the sound of holiday music and the pressure to make plans to visit and buy gifts for people you were now somewhat unfamiliar with was enough anxiety to make the thought of Christmas and all of its bullshit unbearable. 

Once your dad died, the thought of the holiday season was even worse. It meant going home and crying on Christmas because it was just you and your mom. It meant getting thinking of your pity text messages instead of well wishes and happy holidays. It meant forgetting a pair of scissors to open gifts because that was your dad’s job, and it meant that there was an inescapable void in your home. 

Yoongi settles against the booth, looking at you with sad eyes. But what’s more, there is empathy there. Understanding. You don’t feel pitied or judged by Yoongi and the relief that washes over you as you spill your guts out at your favorite dinner is overwhelming.

You get another round of cider and you tell him about your cheating ex. How you were kicked from the apartment that hadn’t been yours from the start. How it’s one more negative feeling associated with Christmas, and how it was forcing you to go back to a place you wanted to see least of all, during a time you hated. How you… didn’t even care so much that the relationship was over. That you were just angry about having to find somewhere else to live and a little embarrassed that everyone saw it coming but you.

Sipping his beer, Yoongi sighs. “I’m going to say something that I want you to consider, and not take personally.”

You push around a cold french fry on your plate. “No promises.”

His smile is fleeting. “The holidays didn’t steal these things from you.” 

The words hang heavy in the air between the two of you. 

Elsewhere, the music has turned down a bit. It’s getting later and the dinner rush has faded to a soft hum in the background. The bell on the door chimes less and there are more empty booths than there are full. Seokjin disappears to the back for a much-earned break. 

It’s a simple concept that Yoongi has given you and yet you want to fight him on it. 

The holidays didn’t steal these things from you. Well no, they hadn’t. But it seemed that your bad luck was recurring, cycling back at the same time every year. Doomed to make your dread stronger and stronger with each passing Christmas. 

“That might be true,” you admit. “But it’s not like I’m the only person who hates the holidays. I mean, at least I have a reason and it’s not some sort of anti-corporate America speel.” He opens his mouth but you cut him off. “Which, by the way, is a very valid point. Hallmark makes all of its money on being a Christmas vampire feeding off the people like me who have trouble going home for the holidays. Except I reject it.”

“There is another alternative.” 

“And what’s that?”

“Embrace that life fucking sucks but eventually we can figure it out. If we want to and if we have the means.”

“What if we don’t have the means?”

Yoongi gives you a severe look. “Does your insurance cover therapy?” You nod. “Good, you have the means. If healing from this anxiety and guilt is something you’re interested in. Come on, I want dessert.” 

-

Later that night, when you have had an overwhelming amount of fudge and talked to Yoongi about anything and everything that doesn’t involve Christmas or any of the horrible feelings you’ve spilled to him all day long, you lay in bed flicking through your phone on one hand while you hold a thin, plastic card in another.

Squinting as the phone brightness increases when a new webpage is loaded, you manage to find what you’re looking for, typing in your insurance information and answering a few questions before you hit send. 

Once done, you set the phone on the nightstand and settle in your bed, heart pounding as you stare up at the ceiling and wonder how fast you’ll hear back on a request for a therapy consultation. 

All the while, Yoongi’s words circle round and round in your mind: Embrace the fact that life fucking sucks, but eventually we can figure it out. 

You roll on your side and squeeze your eyes shut and dare to hope that maybe Yoongi is right.

-

A routine nestles its way into your life before you’re aware of it. You get up and go downstairs for breakfast.

Once in the dining room, you have breakfast with your mom, trying not to get queasy over the fact that your dad’s chair remains empty at the head of the table. Sometimes, Yoongi is there in the morning and has breakfast with the two of you. Those days are much easier to fill the silence.

After breakfast, you shower and pick through your belongings, trying to rearrange your old room and make it somewhat adaptable to the lifestyle you had at your apartment. Adjusting to the fact that your mom is up at six in the morning on the dot and is ready for lunch by eleven nearly drives you to the edge, but you manage.

Most days you find yourself wandering to the back of Min’s Hardware and asking if Yoongi needs help. He always seems surprised to see you back, no matter how many days in a row you find yourself there, chewing on the corner of your lip. 

The silence that comes with helping Yoongi has become an addiction. You notice that he no longer plays Christmas music in the shop when you’re around, opting for just general pop. You’re both thankful and a little embarrassed, but you say nothing as he gives you projects to sand or stain. 

When you’re both tired and your fingers are cramping and worse for wear, you break for lunch. Sometimes you go to your house where your mom has fixed you both a meal. Other times, you pop by the diner where Seokjin gives you lunch on the house.

Seokjin comes around, the more he sees you with Yoongi. You’re still a little extra nice around him, trying to prove that you don’t think you’re better than him. You just… don’t know how to be him. Don’t know how to settle into life like everyone else so easily has. 

It’s two weeks in that Yoongi upends your carefully crafted routine by leaning against your workstation - you don’t know when it became yours - and says, “What are you doing for Christmas Eve? I know your mom is volunteering and she said you weren’t but I don’t want to assume you’re… not doing anything.”

Today, Yoongi is in a green sweater and jeans, the sleeves of his shirt wrapped around his hands as he works. His hair is unstyled, showing just how long it’s gotten. It’s darker at the root where his natural color grows in, but even so, he looks beautiful as ever. Unsettlingly beautiful. The kind that makes you a little shy when he puts his full attention on you these days, especially when he shows you how to do something by gently touching your elbow or your wrist. 

“Ummm.” You race to think of a response, but the words are sticky in your brain with his proximity. Usually, he does his own things, but every time Yoongi comes close these days, your brain gets a little out of sorts. “I was going to do like my little anti-Christmas thing and watch Halloweentown, I guess.”

“Maybe one day I’ll join you on that. For now, I wanted to see if you wanted to um - join me.”

“Join you what?”

He presses his lips flat and raises his brow at the poorly articulated question. “For Christmas Eve. It isn’t very exciting or anything, but I usually have dinner at the home with my dad. They make a great honey ham and then Seokjin has a party at his house after everyone leaves their family dinners. Alcohol is encouraged.”

“Oh.” You blink once. Twice. “You want me to have dinner with you and your dad?”

Blossom-pink blush spreads over Yoongi’s cheek and nose. You chew your bottom lip as you watch him. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he picks at stray splinters on the table. “I just thought maybe you didn’t want to be alone.”

Yoongi’s words from a few days ago echo in your mind when you asked when he started being such a fan of the holidays: when I started spending them alone. 

The thought of spending time with Yoongi with his dad, tucked into a corner of an elderly home with cheesy holiday decorations and staff that talks too gently, and putting on a show for those who feel alone and sad is dizzying. It terrifies you. It makes you want to run. 

Which is why you swallow past the stone in your throat and say, “Um. Sure. Yes. I would like to go with you.” 

He bites his bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. You clench all over, seizing up at how cute he is when he does that. “Really?”

“Yeah, Min. Really.”

“Wow, you haven’t called me Min in… a min.”

“God that was so cheesy.”

“Mhmm. We’re closed tomorrow because I’m helping out at the children’s home but I’ll pick you up at five Saturday. They serve dinner really early there.”

“Okay.” 

Yoongi grins, all gums and round cheeks and shining eyes and for a moment, you forget that you’re supposed to be heartbroken and sour and pitiful. His smile stops everything and you immediately want to say something clever to make him do it again.

Instead, you just nod awkwardly and say, “Okay.”

-

Piles and piles of clothes litter your floor as you yank on an oversized peacoat and rush to the bathroom to check your outfit. You’ve been through at least fifteen different combinations and messed up your neatly place hair, and you still are unsure what the fuck you’re supposed to wear to a Christmas Eve dinner at an elderly home with the Mins.

You are very out of your depth.

When your phone dings and you see that Yoongi has arrived to get you, you scream in frustration and decide that wide-leg jeans paired with black combat boots, a black turtleneck and an oversized coat will have to do. It’s something you would have worn back in the city, but you’re unsure if it’s a little too casual for this.

Outside, the wind snaps against your face, stinging your nose and lips. You fight the urge to lick your lips and remove the very faint, pink lip stain there as you rush to the truck where Yoongi waves enthusiastically. 

Yoongi’s gummy grin warms you more than the heated interior of the cab when you jump into the passenger seat, shuffling the crinkling gift back in your lap as you shiver and stick your hands in front of the air vents to warm them. 

“You look nice,” Yoongi says as a greeting, putting the truck in reverse and looking in his mirrors. “What’s the gift?”

“Um-” Embarrassment heats your cheeks immediately. “I uh, got your dad something? I felt sort of weird showing up without a gift. I don’t know. Is that stupid? I can leave it-”

Your name is soft on his lips as he pauses in the middle of the street to look at you. You stop your rambling, staring at him. His eyes are dark pools, glittering in the dying afternoon sun as he smiles at you. His hair is shaggy again today like he air-dried it and the tawny colored coat makes his hair even more vibrant. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yoongi says gently, smiling. His lips look soft and pink today - well they always look like that, but you notice a little extra today. “That’s not stupid. It’s incredibly kind.”

“It’s - um - I know he used to really love reading all those mythology books and he was fond of the stuff with Odin and Thor? So I got him a Norse mythology one? It had a cool tree on it.”

For a few moments, Yoongi stares at you, unblinking. The truck is in drive, but he has his foot on the brake so it just sits in front of your house collecting little bits of snow. The weight of his gaze threatens to make you melt into the seat. You drop your gaze to the red and green package in your lap, trying to figure out how to explain that the idea was dumb.

“You are incredibly thoughtful.” Yoongi’s voice is so soft you’re almost sure you imagined him speaking at all. You glance up and he has a look you can’t unpack on his face, but it’s something like fondness, perhaps. “He will absolutely love that. I got him an Egyptian one.” 

“Are you sure?”

Yoongi takes a hand off the wheel and reaches over the center console to squeeze your hand where it’s gripped tight on the present. His fingers are calloused and rough from the years in the shop, but his touch is soft. Reverent. Your hand feels like it’s tingling even after he lets go and says, “I promise. Thank you. It’ll mean a lot to him, but it means even more to me.”

Still a little nervous and dizzy from the simple touch of his hand, you nod. 

Finally, Yoongi pulls into the road and starts driving, quiet as his eyes focus on navigating to the center of town. Music plays softly in the background and you glance out the slightly frosted window. 

Outside, families unpack themselves from cars, hurrying in bundles of jackets and loaded with presents to the doorsteps that are cast open for other family members and friends to help them in. Your heart squeezes at the thought and you look away from all of the houses and lights, instead focusing on the lines painted on the road. 

It feels like forever ago it was your family casting open your doors to house Christmas Eve with your extended family. But your uncle and his wife had long since moved away, and their kids had their own kids to celebrate with, and though the invitation was probably there for you and your mom to visit, it felt weird being with your dad's family when your dad was… not around. 

“Dad may or may not remember you,” Yoongi hums as he drives. “I think he will because he’s good about people from the past, but he might not get your name right. I don’t correct him because it can confuse and frustrate him, so just go with whatever if you can.”

“Of course. I’ll just follow your lead.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he drives with one hand on the wheel, one hand hanging off the center console where he leans on his elbow. “He has a little trouble with train of thought, just let him get it out. He hates when you try and finish sentences for him.”

You smile. “He’s always hated that. You were the most impatient son ever.” 

“Well, practice has made perfect. I’m a changed man.”

“Uh-huh.”

The home is covered in holiday decor as you expected. Cars line the lot of what would look like apartment buildings if the sign out front didn’t indicate that it was a senior living center. Honestly, they look better than most of the apartments you’ve had in the city, a single reminder that everything is so much more affordable when you step out of your self-made comfort zone.

Ice and snow crunch beneath your boots in the parking lot. The two of you hurry along, shivering and laughing in the cold. Yoongi surprises you when he pulls you in by the waist, pressing you to his side to walk in a quick, albeit warmer, huddle to the main building. 

Warmth hits you in the face and melts back the cold as you step inside, a shiver racking up your spine. There’s a massive Christmas tree in the lobby with a ‘donated’ sign in the front thanking a local company for the tree, and there are hand-crafted ornaments that from another sign, inform you they were made by the children in the orphanage on the other side of town.

Christmas music tinkles lightly overhead as Yoongi leads you to a counter where a woman with a Christmas vest and a bright smile greets him enthusiastically. It’s obvious that she’s familiar with him as she rattles off how his dad has been doing, scribbling his name on a tag with a candy cane heart and handing it over to him. 

Tag in hand, Yoongi awkwardly shuffles to the side to reveal you to the woman behind the desk, whose name tag says Esther. Her eyes go round and her mouth forms a small ‘o’ when she sees you, surprised that Yoongi has brought a guest. You hate to admit that you feel a little pleased if it’s not common for him to bring other people here. 

Ignoring that, you give her your name and she hesitates, glancing at Yoongi. He nods his head with a tiny frown before she scribbles your name onto the tag and hands it over to you, an unreadable expression now on her face. 

“Enjoy.”

Sticking the tag on your jacket, you glance at Yoongi as he leads the way toward the common room where they’re having dinner. “Well, I don’t think she likes me.”

He hums noncommittally and you say nothing more, following his twists and turns until you’re in a large common area nearly bursting at the seams with Feliz Navidad and tinsel. There are people of varying ages inside sitting around pop-up round tables and folding chairs. Red and green plastic table clothes cover the tables, little gift-wrapped boxes act as centerpieces. There’s another tree donated in the corner by Min’s, making you poke Yoongi’s side and gesture to the tree.

Shy, Yoongi shrugs and scurries away from you, spotting his dad sitting on a sectional looking up at the glittering tree. You hesitate to follow, a little lost as you watch Yoongi call his dad’s name gently, catching his attention. They look so much alike that it’s dizzying to watch as his dad stands up, bringing Yoongi into a tight hug.

You clench your jaw, willing the sudden burning in your eyes to go away. You feel your palms sweat and your throat constricts, making you look away from them as they hold each other by the shoulders, exchanging greetings that you can’t hear from the middle of the room.

All around you are people with their moms and dads. The room is crushed with holiday cheer, held hands, kisses on cheeks and tight hugs. You start to realize this was a terrible idea, excuses and ways to leave flipping through your mind like a Rolodex when Yoongi calls your name. 

Turning to face them, you feel like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide, mouth agape, frame tense. Yoongi gives you a nod as he leads his dad to you. Old Man Min walks well enough, and is a little shorter than Yoongi with peppered hair, kind eyes and a knitted scarf that looks like something perhaps your mom made. 

“You look just like your father!” His dad greets, throwing open his arms when he sees you. Your stomach drops to your ass at the declaration, but you force a smile, bending down a bit to hug him quickly. “I haven’t seen you since… I last saw you!”

That makes you laugh. “It’s nice to see you.”

“I’m just glad Yoongi finally brought you! I’ve been asking to see his girlfriend for two weeks!”

“Dad,” Yoongi admonishes giving you an apologetic look. “She’s… not.” 

Old Man Min waves him off as he heads towards the serving line where there is an array of holiday-themed catered food. “I’m starving. I’ve been waiting here all damned afternoon!”

“Sorry,” Yoongi whispers as he goes by you, upping his pace to keep up with his dad who has his sights set on food. “He does remember you very well, by the way.”

Ignoring hot coal burning in the pit of your stomach at the comparison to your father, you shuffle in line behind Yoongi. All of the workers behind the table serving recognize him immediately, brightening and greeting him with dazzling smiles and heart eyes. 

Next to him, you raise your brows and watch as he shyly interacts with them all, answering the same questions over and over and thanking them for putting on a wonderful dinner. They bask in the shower of his praise until he leans over to you and insists you get the mac and cheese. Yoongi doesn’t notice the shift, but you do, the staff immediately stiffens and goes quiet when they see you interact.

At a table tucked in the corner for just the three of you, you dig into your meal, answering all of Old Man Min’s questions he throws your way. They’re easy to answer: what do you do now, how is your mom, when did you come back. Some of the questions he repeats on accident or drifts off when asking, but you don’t mind, chewing around mac and cheese and waiting for him to get it out, or repeating your answer with the same vigor as before.

Yoongi seems nervous at first, neglecting his food to look back and forth between the two of you. You nudge him gently under the table and his dark eyes fall on you. You give him a face, trying to convey that you’re okay and he grins sheepishly, looking down at his meal and deciding it’s safe enough to start eating. 

“So how did my son finally start dating you?” his dad demands, sipping his sweet tea. “I thought he would finally ask you out in high school and then… uh college, but he never did!”

“Dad,” Yoongi starts gently, but you’re quick to cut him off, touching Yoongi’s arm gently as you smile at his dad. “Recently,” you explain. You glance at Yoongi with narrowed eyes. “Didn’t know he had a crush on me in high school, though.”

“Ha! Of course he did! Why do you think he always wanted you over at the shop? Sure were over there than uh… what’s that girl's name? Jan’s daughter.”

“Jessa,” Yoongi offers softly, not meeting anyone’s eye as he becomes interested in pushing honeyed ham around his plate. “Dad you’re embarrassing me.”

“Yeah, Jenna! She was never at the shop nearly as much as you. Nice girl, not you though.” He stabs a piece of ham and shakes his head. “Always knew you’d be the one. Your dad and I were always sure of it.” 

Yoongi tenses but you smile at Old Man Min. “Really?” 

“Mhmm. Your dad was a hell of a guy! I remember back when we were in high school…”

Yoongi’s dad launches into a tale of when he and your father were kids and you’re shocked to discover that the unsettling feeling in your stomach starts to fade. You listen, chin in your palm and elbow propped on the table as you sip on cider to the adventures of your dad in his youth. 

The wound stings a little but… it’s bearable. And it’s nice, to see Yoongi’s dad come alive and recall so many things from his own childhood. The color on Yoongi’s face and the way he keeps trying to hide his smile in the collar of his jacket says everything about how pleased he is to see his dad happy and healthy. 

Almost without thinking, you reach over under the table and take Yoongi’s hand, giving it a squeeze. He looks up at you, brows raised. You can’t help but smile, really glad that he brought you here. Somehow, it is exactly what you needed. 

Yoongi squeezes your hand back, making your heart pick up. As you start to pull away, he snatches your hand back, lacing your fingers and squeezing. You stare at him, surprised and flustered and feeling a little breathless as he settles in his chair, refusing to look at you as he holds your hand in his lap, engrossed in the tale his father is weaving. 

With a nervous exhale, you lean back in your chair, content with the warmth of his hand and whatever the hell sparks with his touch.

-

Seokjin is very drunk and very happy to see you when he throws open the front door to his incredibly nice home in the new, gated community just beyond your old high school. The two-story home is full of warmth, people from your high school and college, and a lot of booze. 

Immediately you’re uneasy, smiling awkwardly at the shocked faces of your old peers. Yoongi is heedless, though, keeping a hand on yours as he leads you through the party. You’re distracted by the firmness of his hold on you, the way it makes your head spin, the way that you don’t know what holding his hand means, but it’s nice. 

And then you’re in the kitchen, pressed close to his side as you field questions from old friends that aren’t as much friends as they are nosy people from your past. No one asks about your handholding, but the way they glance down to where Yoongi has your fingers laced with his is enough to know it’s all anyone is going to talk about in whispered circles and for the next two weeks. 

If Yoongi is bothered by this, he doesn’t show it. You however, are very in your head. The loose, happy feeling you had at dinner with his dad is replaced with stiff movements, quiet murmurs of hellos and asking how are you to people you don’t really care about, and cringing when a group of people pass by caroling room to room.

Yoongi senses the way you freeze up, the way you press yourself into the pantry as though you could melt into the wood and remain unseen. He tugs you toward a glass sliding door where there is a patio filled with smokers, all of them shivering and breathing smoke and steamed breath into the string lighting. 

Going past them, Yoongi tugs you down into the back of the yard and to a gate. People whistle behind you and Yoongi throws a middle finger over his head, uncaring. He throws the latch and squeezes through the gate, so you follow. 

Behind Seokjin’s house is a lake with a lit fountain, frozen and off for the winter season. He trudges toward it and sits down on damp grass, patting the spot next to him. Tentatively, you sit down and look over at him. 

“Sorry.” His breath fogs in the cold. “I didn’t think about how shitty that might feel for you before inviting you.”

“It’s okay. I just… don’t really know how to answer their questions.”

“What do you mean?”

You pull at frozen grass to distract yourself from having to look at him. “I mean, I just broke up with my fiance a few weeks ago because I caught them cheating and now I show up to a party where everyone thinks I’m a stuck up holding your hand.”

“Not everyone thinks that.” You give him a look and he amends, “Okay, a lot of people do but not everyone.” 

“Great.”

“If they saw you the way I do, they definitely wouldn’t think that.” You shoot him a questioning look as your heart beats a little bit faster. Your nerves start to tingle as you watch him figure out how to phrase what comes next. “You have no idea how nice it was to have you with me tonight. I’ve been doing that alone for years and I love spending time with my dad, but having someone else there to take the pressure off and to see him happy was… fuck it was really nice.”

The icy core around your heart that began to scrape itself together once you entered the party melts just a little bit. You chew on the inside of your cheek, unsure what to say. Thankfully, Yoongi continues. “I know you don’t like the holidays because it reminds you of being home and everything you want to get away from, and of the bad things that happened to you. I didn’t like them for… fuck, for years.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They sucked without my mom, but it wasn’t so bad because we’d come to spend time with you guys or go over to the Kims. My dad made it work, and even though it felt like a fucking gut punch those first few years after my mom died, I sort of adjusted.”

“And then?”

He sighs heavily, looking up at the moon. “And then dad’s old age happened. The man you got tonight was… man, it was good. He was great tonight, happy and present and vibrant. It’s not always like that though - it’s usually not. There are a lot of times when he might forget my mom is gone or might forget that he sold the shop to me and thinks he has to go to work and… it was really hard at first. Trying to make that adjustment.”

“You’re so patient, though.”

“I wasn’t always. Around the holidays I was trying to run the shop and visit him so he wouldn’t feel alone and deal with my own grief about how fucking alone everything felt. There wasn’t anyone to relate to and I was just…” Yoongi shrugs and runs a hand over his brow. “Honestly, I wasn’t very nice for a bit. It was really frustrating to learn new ways to talk to him and I just… hated everyone.”

Fuck you know how it feels. You look at Yoongi as he stares out at the frozen lake. You would never guess that Yoongi, who makes so many different things in his spare time for the holidays could be mean. Yoongi, who eats something different every time you go to Jin’s diner. Yoongi, who chased a stray cat around your backyard until he could bring it in and warm it up inside before taking it over to the shelter. Yoongi who has been unwaveringly kind, and invited you to Christmas Eve dinner so you wouldn’t be alone. 

When you were teens, you could have bought that story. He had always been a little standoffish and hard around the edges. You were always in his inner circle, a rare witness to the way that he could melt for the people that he cared about. But the Yoongi of now does not seem like someone who hates the world like Yoongi of then had the potential to - and did.

It doesn’t make sense, this Yoongi that he talks about in the past and the Yoongi that you see in front of you. The Yoongi in front of you is gentle, kind, and soft with those around him. He never raises his voice, he is gentle with customers, and he often pulls more weight than he should at his own store to take the pressure off his employees.

“What changed, then?” you ask, desperately seeking an answer. In him, you see what you want to be. The calmness, the confidence in who he is and what he’s doing. He’s not drowning in his grief, or trying to reconcile a cacophony of feelings. At least, it doesn’t seem like it. 

“Therapy, for starters,” he laughs and gives you a look as he lays back in the grass. You join him, feeling the cold sink into your coat, but you don’t care. You like laying here with him under a blanket of frozen stars with the muted sounds of the party just beyond the wooden gate.

He continues, “But also a lot of introspection and a lot of self-hate. This version you have of me now? It’s gone through a lot of pain and suffering and reconciling with myself. It’s not an easy process, but it is worth it. And it started with me not blaming Christmas for things  that were just… beyond my control.”

“Fuck, so I have to apologize to Santa? I’m not even religious.”

Yoongi’s breath turns to fog as he laughs. You watch the way his eyes crinkle, shining with mirth under the gray light of the moon. He glows under the night sky – cheeks frozen-blush, lips chapped a little from the winter wind, nose cherry read. Droplets of dew cling to his long hair, a crown of diamonds on a prince spun from moonbeams.

At least, that’s what it feels like as you watch his laughter settle. Yoongi smiles up at the sky and that tight feeling constricts in your chest again. This version of him is so much softer than the teenager you remember. Warm at the edges, melted with a lifetime of experiences that have thawed that hard exterior.

Something like envy slithers through you. Envy that Yoongi has long healed from his hurts. That he seems to have settled here he is now, in happiness and knowing his path. He doesn’t have everything but he has enough, and as he turns to look at you, dark eyes sparkling, you can’t help but avert your gaze.

You don’t want him to see the inside of you.

“It’s more about Christmas as a concept,” Yoongi sighs, looking back up at the sky. Marshmallow clouds drift across a midnight canvas. You can only make out the brightest of stars here, the light pollution dimming the effect. “I’m not religious either, but the effect that the holidays can have on people is touching. Heartwarming. People love others a little extra.”

“Yeah, well they should do that year-round.”

“Small steps, small steps. Maybe it’s an open conversation at a dinner, or maybe it’s someone seeing family they haven't seen in a while. There are so many opportunities for love and warmth and chances to open your heart.”

“You sound like a Hallmark commercial.”

“Make fun of me all you want,” he chuckles. “I know it sounds idealistic and a little bit naïve. But I’ve experienced too much sadness to keep thinking that’s all there is, and I’ve seen people’s lives change around the holidays. It’s special.”

You hum. “Why wait until the end of the year for all of that so-called happiness, then?”

“Life is hard - like really fucking hard. Sometimes when the end of the year is staring you right in the face, or when you're realizing it may be your last Christmas with an aging loved one is the push people need to brave that first step to being happy.”

“You’re celebrating procrastination.”

Yoongi sighs. He rolls over on his side and props his head up with his hand. You feel a flush of warmth curl through you under the weight of his full attention. Suddenly the cold hard ground you’ve opted to lay on doesn’t feel so bad.

“I’m celebrating people being moved to do something.” His tone is gentle. You glance at him from the corner of your eye. He seems thoughtful, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. “I’m celebrating that sometimes the holidays are the worst time for people. But something small will happen to make them feel even a moment of happiness. Just one small second of relief from the fucking madness.”

You think about everything that’s happened in the last few weeks. A tightness constricts your throat and you try to swallow past it. It takes you a few moments, but you imagine what it would be like to have just a fucking second to catch your breath. To have a moment of pure, unfiltered happiness.

“I just…” Yoongi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I want people to be happy. And it feels like maybe this time of year has more potential than most. So that’s what I celebrate. Not the gift and the capitalism and the hypocrisy of it all. But the little seconds in between.”

A long, slow breath of air leaves you. You watch it steam and curl toward the sky before fading. “Well, Yoongi. I wish I was nearly as optimistic.”

“Maybe you can be.” You glance at him and see him smiling. “Just give me a chance to persuade you, yeah? My work seems to be paying off so far.”

“It is. I have an appointment to talk to a therapist in three weeks. It’s just an introductory thing, but…”

“That’s great, honestly. I don’t want to say I’m proud of you because that’s pretentious and you’re not doing this for me, but I really hope it helps.” Silence settles between you. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you are cold, despite the warmth that blooms when he studies your face. “Wanna go inside and drink a fuck ton of wine and then Irish exit?”

“Fuck yeah,” you laugh, letting him help you to your feet. 

Back inside of the party, you do just that. Yoongi plies you with sweet, red wine until there’s a cotton-soft buzz in your body. You’re a little bit nicer to people who still whisper when you walk by, and you even let Seokjin drag you into a single karaoke performance of Baby It’s Cold Outside. 

It’s already embarrassing to show how horrible you are at singing, but to make matters worse, you cannot stop glancing over at Yoongi who leans against the wall of the living room, a plastic wine up in his hand, dark eyes focused only on you. 

Heat pools in your lower stomach at his gaze, watching it darken by the minute. You do not miss when Jessa - who Old Man Min has dubbed Jenna - approaches Yoongi tentatively. And yet he is dismissive, the overly-warm and kind exterior replaced with something sharper. Hungrier. 

And his focus is entirely on you.

When you finish the song and wander over to him, breathless, he keeps his eyes pinned on you. Fathomless pools that draw you in until you feel like you’re falling falling falling, weightless and breathless. No one has ever looked at you like that. Not even your fiance. 

“What?” you ask, voice shaking as you lean against the wall, face tilted up toward him. You feel warm and wine-slow all over, limbs heavy and comfortable. Your lashes flutter when you slow blink at him. His lips are stained red from wine. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

“What way?”

Embolden by sweet wine, your talk on the lawn and your innocent hand holding, you huff. “In a way that makes me want to be stupid and kiss you.”

“That would make you stupid?”

You drop your gaze and press the rim of your plastic cup to your lips. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I kind of want to do it, but I don’t… know?”

His voice is lower and deeper, soft against your sense as he leans in a little. “So you want to kiss me?” You nod. “But you don’t know if you want to kiss me?”

“I don’t want you to think it’s… I haven’t been single for long. I don’t want you to think that of me. It isn’t because of that. I’ve wanted to for like years and - yeah.”

“I already told you. I think a lot of things of you. That isn’t one.” His gaze flickers around the party. You don’t realize how close he is until he turns back to you, warm breath fanning against your head. “How about we do our exit now and talk about that kiss where there’s not so many eyes, hmm?”

Mutely, you nod at him. Now you definitely want to kiss Yoongi. He’s gone from the soft, gummy-grin man full of holiday cheer to a darker, calm version of himself that is new. Confident. And quite frankly toe-curling. 

Yoongi wraps his fingers around yours and leads you to the exit, saying nothing to anyone that you pass by. Then you’re out in the cold and he’s unlocking the truck, popping open your door and pulling you toward it.

“Are you okay to drive?”

“Very,” he promises, voice raspy. “I only live across the stoplight, remember?” 

“Ohhh.” You get into the passenger seat, leaning your head on it and looking at Yoongi, who is momentarily propped against your door. “You’re taking me home?”

He leans forward, eyes dropping to your mouth as he mutters, “Uh-huh.”

And then he’s kissing you and the entire world fades into the background.

Yoongi’s lips are just as soft as you imagined. You sink into the kiss, leaning forward into the heavenly press of his mouth. Everything shifts, the dizziness of the wine mulling into dizziness of Yoongi - the way he smells like cedar and rose, the way he presses your mouth open with his, the way he tastes like sweet notes of wine. 

The soft brush of his tongue against yours makes your thighs squeeze together. He’s slow as he kisses you, taking his time to suck your tongue into his mouth, rolling his over yours languidly and fuck you’re going to die from just a kiss. 

Yoongi pulls back and you whine, hands going to the collar of his jacket and pulling him back, missing the warmth of his mouth, the gentle pull of your lip between his teeth. “More,” you whisper, pressing your lips to his.

His chuckle buzzes through your mouth, a gentle tingle as you pull at his bottom lip with your teeth playfully. He groans as he kisses you, a little sloppier, with a little more tangled tongues and spit. The wet smack of his mouth against yours is interrupted when someone’s dog starts barking in one of the yards, startling you. 

“Fuck,” he laughs, voice husky. “In your seat, come on. Let’s go.”

“Meh.”

He grins and pushes your leg back into the cab of the truck. “Greedy.”

Yoongi shuts the door and rounds the hood. Your eyes are glued to him as he gets in, your heart pounding in your chest as he starts the car. It occurs to you that you just kissed Yoongi. Min Yoongi, the one person you’ve been spending time with since you got back. The one person who you thought about late at night when your fiance was asleep and you were chasing thoughts of your past. 

The one person who seemed to be willing to look a little deeper. To see that the poison inside of you wasn’t because you didn’t like anyone, or because you thought that you were better. It was because you were afraid and sad and didn’t know how to deal with anything. 

Wordlessly, he reaches over the center console, placing his hand on your thigh and giving it a squeeze. You shut your legs, stomach clenching at the feeling of his fingers brushing gently over your jeans. When you look at him, there’s a sideways smirk on his face and you know he knows that your stomach is flipping over the simple touch. 

It feels like the drive lasts a thousand years. You’re squirming in the seat as Yoongi’s thumb brushes back and forth, giving you a squeeze now and again accompanied by a grin. You can’t help but smile back, heart in your fucking throat as you see all of the familiar houses pass you by. 

The Min home is exactly like you remember it but with less cars. Yoongi parks in the drive, popping open the garage with the press of a button to reveal a workshop of tools, shelves for storage and a flickering overhead light that has been faulty since you were in middle school. 

Outside, Yoongi reaches for your hand, pulling you close as you pass under the garage and toward the door that opens up into a white-tiled kitchen. The hum of the closing door follows you in as he flicks on a light, revealing a large kitchen with oak cabinets and a counter full of mail, a catch all, and various containers of sugar, and coffee and other items. 

Yoongi chucks his keys and shuffles out of his jacket, tossing it on the counter and turning to you. He gives you a cunning smile and beckons you. There’s no denying his summons, your feet pulling you toward him automatically as he catches you by the waist, pulling you into his chest as he brushes his mouth against yours again. 

Somehow, it feels normal to be doing this. To press your palms against his chest as he lounges lazily against his kitchen counter, one hand on your waist and one hand on the side of your neck as he tilts your mouth to his, kissing you hungrily. Like he’s waited an entire lifetime to do this. 

The thought makes you pull away suddenly. You look up at him, his face flush and lips kiss-bitten and spit-slicked. His eyes flutter open, looking down at you half-lidded and dazed. “Hmm?”

“Did you really have a crush on me?” 

He snorts and rolls his eyes, tilting his head backward until it hits a cabinet. The hand on your neck is firm, a steady weight that sends your thoughts wild when his thumb brushes back and forth across the skin of your over-warmed throat. 

“Of course I did. You paint so much of my life, you have no idea.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Cause I was terrified. I wasn’t very honest with myself back then, there was no way I could be honest with you. Then after college you got that nice ass job and I realized I was coming back home and I couldn’t go with you.”

“Even in college?”

“Yeah,” he whispers to the ceiling. “Even in college. I had this big idea to maybe tell you when we graduated. I was going to work at that new startup I told you about - it was only thirty minutes away from you. And then that didn’t happen and…” He shrugs. “I realized we weren’t on the same path. It seemed pointless.”

You stare at him for a few moments, thoughts flicking through your mind at a blinding pace. Yoongi had liked you in high school. In college. Had put off telling you because he didn’t think you’d be interested enough to stay, or to figure it out or to-

“I’d have dated you anyway,” you murmur. Carefully, you move a strand of blonde hair from his eyes when he looks down at you in surprise. “Yeah,” you laugh when you see his face. “Yoongi, I was totally head over heels for you in high school and in college. And then you dated Jessa and I just figured it would be embarrassing to tell you later so I just didn’t say anything.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Those first few months when you never texted me that you had settled in at your new job I figured you had new friends or just didn’t have time for me. I didn’t even…” You sigh. “I didn’t realize you didn’t move there. I was too nervous to look at your social media.”

“I barely update it anyways.”

“I know. It’s all your cat.” That piques your interest and you pull away from him, looking around. “Where is your kitty? I want to see.”

“I love that you are excited about my cat, but I would like to request that we look for him later. I have other things I wanna do.”

“Oh?”

Yoongi’s gaze is dark when you look back at him. Your fingers tighten in his shirt, going still under the razor-sharp look he gives you. “Yeah,” he confirms. “I want to show you how fucking bad I wanted you - do want you. And I don’t want you to think I’m just saying all this, or that I’m using a moment of weakness. Since you walked into the kitchen that night, I have not been able to stop thinking about every second of my life that I liked you. That I wanted to kiss you. That I wanted to fuck you until all you could think about was the way I felt.”

“Yoongi.”

“Hmm?”

“I would like that very much.”

Yoongi’s smile is dazzling, completely at ends with how he just said he wants to fuck you but you don’t care.

Especially when he gives you a chaste kiss to the mouth. Once. Twice. And leads you through the home that you already know. His bedroom is on the opposite side of where his parents slept, and when he opens the door to reveal a room lit by a single salt lamp, you almost expect it to be covered in drawings of buildings and filled with canvas prints of famous buildings around the world and sheets designed like graph paper.

Instead, you’re surprised to see an elevated room with newly painted, limewash walls, a heavy desk tucked into the corner with leather portfolios and neatly stacked papers, dark linen sheets folded neatly on the bed with several pillows - including decorative - against a beautiful headboard with a keen design you know is his.

The room looks lived in and elegant, and it smells like the sage and jasmine reed diffuser in the corner. 

“You’re fucking hot,” you blurt, startling yourself and Yoongi. “Like your room is - adult. And you made that desk and headboard right? Fucking-” You look up at him and shake your head. “It’s really hot that you do all of these things.”

“Wow. Just the room does it for you, huh?”

You shove him playfully and he falls back on his bed, sitting with a soft bounce. He opens his legs and leans back on his palms, eyes drifting up and down your frame. He smirks, cool confidence making your hands shake as you take a step forward, suddenly feeling far more nervous than you ever have around him.

“Come here,” he purrs, lifting a hand and patting his thigh.

In a trance, you compy. Carefully you crawl into his lap, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his waist as you settle your ass between his legs. His hands wrap behind you, pressed into the small of your back as he leans forward, catching your mouth with his. He pulls your coat from your shoulders, dropping it to the floor as you settle your hand around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair.

Kissing Yoongi makes the world stop. Here, in his bedroom, in his lap, nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter that you’re living in your mom’s house again. It doesn’t matter that you have to figure out what to do about a new place to live. It doesn’t matter that a teeny-tiny part of you was relieved to find your fiance cheating. It doesn’t matter that you were more mad about being kicked out of the apartment than anything else.

All that matters is that something slides into place when Yoongi leans back, letting you fall onto his chest. You giggle into his mouth, letting the slide of your tongues and lips lull you into a sense of longing that you’ve harbored for years without realizing it. 

You’re drowning in Yoongi. Your lungs are full of him, sending you gasping into his mouth when he rolls your hips against his, the friction sparking a fire in you. You’re completely lost in him, drifting further and further his mouth places hot, wet kisses on your jaw and neck.

It never occurred to you that you could want someone - Yoongi - this badly. You tremble on top of him as his fingers pull your shirt from the waistband of your jeans, fingers seeking the warmth of your skin. 

Breathing becomes difficult, your lips ghosting across the tender skin of his neck, nipping lightly as his calloused fingers brush across your hips, digging in as he rocks you against him. You can’t help but shiver at the feeling of arousal in your stomach, fingers quaking as he lets out a soft moan next to your ear. 

Gently, Yoongi rolls the two of you over, slotting himself between your legs and pressing his clothed hard-on where you want him most. You look up at him as he pushes his hair out of his eyes, skin flushed and full of warmth and want. He is beautiful.

Something in you blooms, hungry and feral. You grab his hands and pull them to your chest, squeezing his palms under yours. He grins, getting the hint as he gives your tits a gentle squeeze, working a light moan from you. 

“You always had great tits,” Yoongi admits, thumbs circling the gentle hint of nipples through your shirt and bralette. You squirm under his touch and his grin grows wider. “Yeah? Sensitive, hmm?”

“Yes.”

With a pleased hum, Yoongi removes your shirt. It’s cold in his room, but he’s quick to bend down, his hands rubbing up and down your sides, chasing away the goosebumps as he looks up at you, mouth hovering over a peaked nipple. 

Slowly, Yoongi flicks his tongue over your nipple. The sensation makes you kick against the mattress, the stimulation something but not nearly enough. You want more, your hands shooting to his forearms and digging your nails in. 

Yoongi huffs, warm air gusting over your skin as he gives you what you want, lowering his mouth and wrapping it around your nipple, soaking the fabric of your bralette. Your eyelids flutter shut, one of his hands holding himself up and the other ghosting along your ribs back and forth, making you shiver repeatedly. 

Pulling away, Yoongi plucks your nipple playfully with his teeth, making you squeal from a pinch of pain but a flood of pleasure. You feel lightheaded, teetering on the border between present and somewhere far away and he’s barely even touched you. 

“You okay?” Yoongi asks. You realize his lips are ghosting against your chin. “You look a little dazed. We can stop.”

“No.” You shake your head, trying to dispel the fog and blinking down at him. “No it’s - it feels good. It’s hard to think when you touch me I just-” The words are stuck in your mouth and you squeeze your eyes shut.

He kisses your nose gently. “You just what?”

“I’m just really into it and it makes me feel all floaty and out of it but present. I don’t know. It’s overwhelming but good.”

“Do you want to keep going?” You nod. “Okay. You can stop at any time, okay? You ever used safe words?”

“No.”

He kisses you sweetly on the forehead, mouth drifting south until he’s nosing you lightly. His next words come out mumbled against your mouth, the hum sending a soft buzz through your lips. “Tell me a word we can use if you need to stop. No matter what we’re doing, the moment you feel uncomfortable, you use the word.”

“Christmas?”

He snickers and presses his forehead against you. “Fine, Christmas is fine.” He pecks your lips. “Okay.” He pulls your hand from your face, giving you a gentle, innocent kiss to the lips. It helps settle you a little. “Tell me what you like.”

“Umm.” Yoongi places butterfly kisses along your jaw, teeth nipping you lightly. You curse and feel your eyes roll back in your head as he sucks at your skin greedily, one of his hands coming up to brush a thumb back and forth over a nipple. “I don’t know.”

“No?” He pinches your right nipple and you moan loudly, earning a smile against your kiss-slicked neck. “You must like something. Do you like it slow? Rough? Messy? Do you like being choked? Hands above your head? Or in control?”

You shake your head. “Want me in control?” You nod. “Got it.” His hand drifts up to your neck and gives the sides a gentle squeeze. A thrill shoots through you and you lean up into him, nodding. “Yeah? Like having my hand around your throat?”

“Yes. I like…” Your words trail off for a moment as you think through the haze of Yoongi’s rasping voice and mouth. “Umm hard but sort of slow?” 

“Mhmm.”

“And messy. Messy is good.” 

Yoongi gives a satisfied hum. His hand leaves your nipple, brushing down your heated skin toward the apex of your thighs. He presses his fingers firmly over your clothed pussy, not nearly enough friction with underwear and jeans in the way. “And what about being eaten out? Do you like that?”

“Yes.”

You feel his smile against your throat. “Thank fuck. I’ve been dying to taste this fucking pussy.”

Suddenly you’re glad you have a safe word. Yoongi’s words send a fresh wave of arousal straight to your core, a moan leaving your lips as he worships your skin with his mouth. It feels like you could fall headfirst into him and never stop falling. The tension in your stomach is so tight you nearly snap when he unbuttons your jeans, everything he does is so overwhelming that there is almost an urge to cry. 

It’s hard to piece together why you feel like this. Why there is an inferno screaming inside of you, begging to be let out. Why the press of Yoongi’s fingers over your damp panties nearly sends you into a blackout, why when he circles your clit through the fabric you let out a strangled noise.

But you think… maybe you know what it is. 

Instead of thinking too hard about it, you focus on the way you’re short of breath. The way that your entire body is vibrating with energy. You look down to where Yoongi is on his knees between your legs, dark eyes looking up at you intently. His hands skate up and down the soft flesh of your inner thighs, squeezing periodically. 

Way back when, you were always nervous letting people between your legs, letting them see the most intimate parts of you up close. It was anxiety-filled and you were constantly nervous about being wrong - or just. Anything. 

But when Yoongi drops his gaze down to where your underwear sticks to your folds and lets out an appreciative curse, there’s no anxiety at all. Just a desire for Yoongi to make you his. For you to dig your fingers into him and make him yours.

Flashing you a wicked grin, he leans forward and gives a slow, wet lick over your panties. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, back arching and thighs twitching shut a little. The stimulation is more, but not enough. “Please don’t tease me.”

“Hmm, no? Want my mouth on this perfect pussy?”

“Please.”

He tucks his fingers under your underwear and pulls them down slowly, pressing a kiss to your knee absently. “You’re so much more pliant than I expected. Just want to be taken care of?”

Something inside you squeezes sharply and you shut your eyes, nodding. Realizing he can’t see you nodding, you whisper, “Yes.”

Firmly but slowly, Yoongi presses his palms into your thighs, spreading you wide. The stretch pulls your muscles but it’s a pleasant burn that is immediately forgotten when you feel his hot breath skate over your aching hole. 

You have never wanted someone’s goddamn mouth this bad. Yoongi laughs and you realize that you’re squirming, wiggling your hips a little toward his mouth. You immediately stop, hands covering your face as you groan, realizing that you are pliant for him. 

Embarrassment morphs into surprise and white hot pleasure when Yoongi licks you slowly from dripping hole to clit. Your breath gets stuck in your chest at the sensation, his tongue languidly rolling around your clit before he slow-drags it back down, dipping into your hole teasingly. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasp as he repeats the motion, the flat of his tongue dragging upward. “Fuck, Yoongi.”

He hums contentedly, flicking his tongue back and forth over your clit playfully. Your thighs tighten and shake, and you’re only able to let out the breath you’ve been holding when he pulls away and gives a soft chuckle.

“Fuck,” he grumbles, shuffling and sliding his hands under your ass. His fingers grip you firmly and he pulls you to his mouth, using the grip on your ass to anchor you to him. “Can you look at me, baby?” 

The new endearment makes your fingers clench in the sheets. It’s dizzying when you shift to your elbows, barely able to prop yourself up. The room tilts as he grins between your legs, lips glossed with your arousal. 

“Want you to watch,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh. It leaves a sticky mouth print. “Such a sweet little cunt.”

Yoongi’s words have no time to land. He leans forward and you watch with acute fascination as he sucks your clit gently between his lips. Your nerves turn to molten lava and though he wants you to watch, your head falls back and you feel your eyes roll, a whimper escaping your mouth as he suckles greedily. 

Everything Yoongi does has always been art. He eats you out no different, alternately between eagerly tonguing every inch of you and sucking gently on your clit. You somehow manage to lift your heavy head, swimming with no thoughts but Yoongi Yoongi Yoongi to watch as he closes his eyes, humming delightedly as his greedy tongue slips into your clenching hole.

“Holy fuck,” you squeak. Your legs threaten to close as the knot in your stomach tightens. You know you’re going to come soon, knees squeezing his shoulders as he hums and sucks and licks, not letting a drop go to waste. “I’m gonnnaaa-” 

You can’t finish the sentence. He knows you’re going to come, his tongue firmer, his mouth hungrier. His mouth is loud and wet against you, which might gross you out if you weren’t babbling, twisting your hips under him as the pressure in your stomach shot upward. You’re panting and nearly delirious when one hand slides from your ass to your hole, his thumb applying just enough pressure to relieve a bit of the ache. 

“Fuck,” you squeak.

You come hard, eyes squeezed shut, Yoongi sucking your clit harshly and humming, the hum of his mouth sending you over and his thumb dipping into your hole to apply pressure. Under the force of your orgasm, you collapse to the bed, full-body twitching as his gluttonous mouth sucks at you, not letting up.

A numb-like tingle settles into your veins. You feel drunk, and not from the wine. Something headier that makes your thoughts white noise and your limbs heavy-soft. Yoongi gives your clit a kiss before squeezing your ass playfully, kissing his way up your stomach to your chest. 

“How are you doing?” he asks gently. 

“I think I just saw god,” you croak, voice hoarse from overuse. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He hums and licks into your mouth. You taste yourself on him, sticky-sweet and heady. He moans, dropping his hips to press against your slick thighs and still-dripping cunt. “Let me,” you mumble against his mouth, hand dropping between you and squeezing him over his jeans. Fuck. Your eyes flutter open, your hand feeling the full size of Yoongi’s cock. “Oh my god, do you have a big dick?”

Yoongi bursts into laughter, groaning and burying his head in your neck. He busies his mouth with placing sloppy kisses, more tongue than anything, against your pulse point. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I mean, yeah,” you mimic in a high-pitched voice. He laughs and you squirm. Even his laugh is hot. “Well show me. I wanna suck you off.”

“Can I be honest?”

“You just made me come from tongue alone, so yeah.”

“If your mouth comes near my dick I might come. I was close to busting in my fucking jeans like a teenager just now. I’d love for you to suck me off another time, but I am living my dream right now and I might bust a nut immediately.” 

You look at him owlishly. “Living your dream, huh?”

“Shut up,” he growls playfully. “Roll over on your stomach for me and put that perfect ass into the air, hmm?” 

With sluggish limbs and your head spinning, you do what he asks. He snaps the back of your bralette and you let it fall down your arms before tossing it aside. Leaning on your elbows, you put your ass in the air, wiggling it for effect. He huffs out a laugh behind you and you turn your head to watch him pull his shirt off.

Underneath his clothes, Yoongi is flushed pink and smooth. You watch, dazed and appreciative as he undoes his jeans swiftly. There is something alluring about watching the way his hands work his pants off. His strong thighs flex when he straightens, tucking his thumbs underneath the waistband of his briefs to slide them down and -

“Holy fuck,” you blurt. Yoongi looks up at you, blonde hair sticking to his forehead and cock bobbing heavily against his stomach. He does have a big dick - thick and long with a flushed tip leaking precum that makes your mouth water. “You’re joking.”

For a moment, the confident Yoongi from a second ago wavers, face red as he shyly gets on the bed. “If we have to stop we can-”

“Please fuck me,” you beg. You don’t even hesitate, shuffling your knees so that your ass is higher. “I don’t care if it hurts. Please.” 

His hands are on your ass, making your heart hammer in your chest. You think it might give out as Yoongi shuffles behind you, his thighs brushing against the back of yours. You feel the sticky crown of his cock against an asscheek, making you press backward to apply pressure. A sharp smack lands on your ass, earning both a cry and a moan from you. 

“Don’t fucking start,” Yoongi growls. Both of his hands grip your ass as he slides his shaft between your sticky folds. Your forehead rests on sweaty sheets as you pant, feeling how hard and long he is. “Gonna fuck you open with my fingers a little.”

“Yoongi.” 

“You said you wanted me to fuck you, baby. So let me.”

Yoongi’s hands drift from the apples of your ass to your fluttering hole. There’s a pit in your stomach, butterflies going wild as his fingers brush around your ring of muscles, hole twitching. His cock is pressed against your ass as he slides a finger in, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he presses against your front wall, the smooth glide of his fingers addicting. 

“More,” you whisper. “Please.”

He hums in agreement, sliding in another finger. It’s a stretch, but it’s good. Pleasure whites out everything else. There’s just the tight glide of his fingers, pressing against that soft spot in you. Everything he does, your stomach lurches, the pleasure turning you boneless as you continue to melt into the mattress, letting Yoongi slow-fuck you with his fingers until he decides you can take him. 

Slowly, he removes his fingers, a line of arousal sticking to your ass as he uses both hands to spread you open. He moans, shuffling so that his cockhead catches your entrance, holding the blunt tip there for a second, letting your hole clench and unclench at the pressure. 

“Holy fuck, please.”

“What was that?”

“Min Yoongi, plea-”

Your words turn into an embarrassing sound as he sinks deep into your pussy, so wet that he slides almost to the hilt. The wind gets knocked out of you and for a second, you lay there in white light, unable to think about anything but the painful stretch of his cock reaching deep deep. 

There’s nothing else but the feel of him, hips pressed to your ass, hands rubbing up and down your back, letting your walls flutter around him as you adjust to the girth. And you do have to adjust, remembering to breathe through it. When the slight sting fades, you swivel your hips, making both of you sigh. 

Taking the hint, Yoongi pulls out, using his hands on your ass to control both of your movements before he sinks back in, finding a smooth, steady rhythm that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. You’re gone in seconds, thoughts replaced by the livewire feeling in your stomach and the way Yoongi fucks you hard and deep, though his movements are slow. 

Yoongi makes sounds behind you that make you fall apart that much faster. His hands are reverent and careful as he pulls you onto his cock, fucking you like you asked. Slow. With purpose. Every thrust is weighted, Yoongi putting his entire frame into each stroke as he fucks you into the mattress, punctuated by his stilted breaths. 

“Fuck,” he swears. “You have no fucking idea the way I dreamed about this. Fucking-” he breaks off with a growl, fingers gripping you with bone-shattering strength. “Wanted to do everything with you. For years.” 

Something inside of you snaps and you let out a muffled cry, realizing that you're near tears. Because yeah. You know what he means. You knew it when you saw him standing in the kitchen making a home with your mom. You knew it when you saw him carving rocking chairs and brushing sawdust out of your hair. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp as he adjusts the angle, hitting your spot on the upstroke. It nearly sends you into space. “But me too.”

He smacks your ass, the sting almost sending you headfirst into your orgasm. “Yeah? Thought of me even when you weren’t here, hmm?”

“Yes.”

“Thought of me even when you were lying awake at night in a city without me?”

“Yes.”

He slaps your ass again and you feel your orgasm, so tight and intense that you think you might die if the pressure doesn’t pop. “Come on,” he grunts, a hand sliding around your waist and reading down to press tight circles on your clit. Your vision goes white. “Come for me, then. Fucking show me.”

It’s all you need. You come around Yoongi, squeezing him so tight and screaming viciously into his sheets. He grabs you tight and curses loudly behind you, immediately coming deep in your cunt, shivering against you as he pants through it. You’re barely aware that his weight is on top of you, your entire being somewhere else far away.

For a while, there is just gasping breaths and tangled limbs. You’re unsure how to string together words, your mind and bones melted. Your body twitching with post-orgasm tremors. 

Strings of thoughts begin to pull together. The twine to make coherent ideas. Memories. Things. You feel the weight of Yoongi, who is only half on top of you as he tries to catch his breath. Tries to piece himself together, both of you collapsed and tangled in something beyond just bodies. 

Whatever it is that just happened is more than just fucking and you know it. Know that Yoongi knows it. You’ve been dancing around an inevitable thought for weeks, while watching him hunched over his workstation, painting stain on a cabinet with his sweater sleeves pulled over his hand. Watching him shuffle boxes of dreidels that he hand-carved for the synagogue down the street. 

The dread of coming home during the holidays was always about the association to your family. To your dad being gone. To the guilt gnawing at you for leaving your mom. But now, as he pulls the rest of himself off of you and rolls onto his back, hands grabbing you and pulling you to his sweaty side, you think that maybe being afraid of home was a little bit about him too. About the memory of him. About the little inkling of a crush that you never got over. 

“Your mom is gonna give us so much shit in the morning,” he mumbles, words a little slurred. You curl into his side, tucking your face in his neck. He smells a little like cedar, a little like sex and sweat. “She might never let me in the house again.”

“Untrue. She loves you.”

“Hmm. It’s a start.”  He sighs, words drifting off. “And no safe word needed. I could barely choke you out if I wanted. I thought I was gonna come as soon as I put it in. Holy fuck.”

“Fuck Christmas,” you laugh. “I want you to do that again. However you want to.” He snorts. “Also, I want to suck your dick in the morning. I didn’t get you a gift.” 

“Fine,” he mumbles. “Sleep, yeah?”

You hum. “Yeah.” 

[bellewintersroe]

enemies to lovers headcanons with nix, winters, speirs and liebgott pls 🥺? (love ur writing btw)

thank you!!!!!! I love this request omfg hehehe and I’m so excited to write it, I hope this does your idea justice 🥰🥰

Easy Boys x Reader ~ Enemies to Lovers.

Ron Speirs:

I wrote something here but I accidentally deleted it and now I can’t remember but oh well. I think something along the lines of the fact he’s superrrr intimidating to you at first.

lets say you’re a pretty friendly person, you’d think he was super standoffish and maybe a bit arrogant? Idk it’s a weird take but let’s go with it.

anyway you don’t really talk, but when Ron starts to notice you more often (he always notices you the whole time) he can tell you don’t like him or something.

idk but one day when he’s just like oddly nice to you, like overly nice you suddenly feel bad and after months (or years) of avoiding the man you feel a pang of guilt.

he’d probs offer you some cigarettes or his coat or something whilst it’s raining in Germany.

the small gestures when Ron is finally relaxing towards the end of the war become more common and you decide you actually never hated him at all, you just completely misread him.

lets be honest you’re probs still intimidated asf by him, like the first time you two are walking alone just one on one it’s nerve wracking.

hes a lot more gentle? And soft spoken that you ever realised, like you’re just discussing something and you’re actually taken a back at how nice his voice is? That sounds odd, but then you look up to him and you kinda share a smile and that’s the exact moment when you can pin point the feelings between you both.

“you know I used to be scared of you.” You’d admit to him after a night of drinking in the eagles nest.

ron would just smile and legit just KISS YOU?!?

“uh did you mean to do that?”

“yeah…. Did you not… like it?”

you’re kissing again and suddenly the idea of somewhat disliking each other seems so stupid, Ron was there the whole time, yet only now did your relationship blossom into something so sweet and beautiful.

Joe Liebgott:

The most PERFECT example of enemies to lovers ever fr.

like you thing he’s smug and arrogant and he likes to tease you, like he says ur hot when your angry but then you snap back and he thinks ur a bitch and then the two of you avoid one another like the plague.

if you’re all sat in the same group you can guarantee he’ll throw some snarky comment your way and you’d hit one right back at him.

“Drop the attitude doll, just cos you’re hot.”

Backhanded compliments? Sometimes they’re kinda confusing but they’re reoccurring from entering Europe, it’s like Joe can’t actually be mean?

idk but you two will bicker and even when the feelings of hatred and despair begin to fizzle ever so slightly you still keep up to the image of disliking one another.

“I hate you.” But side eyes to watch the other persons response u know??

the thing is, you match each others personalities perfectly. Like you’re both feisty asf.

it’s one day that you’re a little downbeat and Joe decides he wants to make a snarky comment to you (to get your attention/ watch your reaction) that his heart legit drops out his asshole when he sees you cry.

like he actually make you cry. Fuck! It’s gone way too far and some of the boys are like; “oh way’da go, liebgott!”

He feels super, super bad, but just thinks you fully despise him now so he avoids apologising to you. In reality you’re more upset because something clicks that you don’t hate him, at all- so when he made a comment on a particularly rough day it bothers you in a different way than usual.

Has it clicked that the two of you like each other yet?? Idk idk.

anyway I can imagine one day Cobb makes some rude ass comment to you, and just as you’re about to open your mouth to spit something back at him, Liebgott interjects, feeling some form of anger like no other.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth, Cobb. Why don’t ya back the fuck off?”

it catches you both off guard like uhhhh- do you acknowledge that Liebgott just publicly defended you?? It shut Cobb up, so when Joe is satisfied and a little nervous with his work, he leaves.

idk I just feel like it would make you wanna chase after him and when you thank him he’s super relaxed and just… open?? Finally, there’s no facade that the two of you dislike each other, not remotely.

the conversations start up properly, like for some reason Joe would be nervous around you, he’d be so calm and speak so softly you’d tease him like is that the same person?!?

teasing each other like crazy becomes more of a playful/ flirtatious thing and neither of you can deny it.

“you know doll, maybe you never considered the fact you’ve actually been in love with me this whole time.”

“maybe I have.” “What??” “What?!”

let’s just say the feisty nature between the two of you is shifted into the bedroom… maybe all the tension of ‘hating’ one another paid off?

Lewis Nixon:

Honestly I’m struggling to think of scenarios for Lewis and Dick because they’re you’re superiors, like both of them are extremely respectful and professional men, I’m not quite sure how you’d end up becoming enemies?? For the sake of the fact it’s fiction, let’s just make something wild up.

so maybe bcs Lew is a big drinker and you’ve warned him time and time again to cut it out, you get so annoyed at him you just snap? Like you’re a little impatient with him, but he’s also not really giving you, the company nurse, but regard in return.

lewis would probs sign and roll his eyes and just walk away and it’s kinda awkward asf, and let’s say you’re shy, you just kinda avoid him like crazy.

so there’s more of a tension between the two of you, like you sigh every time you see him with an alcohol bottle, talking about his rich upbringing. Even tho Lew is extremely modest and doesn’t brag, maybe you just get the wrong end of the stick/ misunderstand? Idk people are complicated.

I feel like even tho it’s awkward you two would end up alone somehow? Like you’re stood waiting and you’re kinda forced to talk.

“Look I know you hate me and all-”

“I don't hate you, Captain Nixon.”

The interactions kinda pick up after he’s divorced, like you end up helping him with an injury he gained after a night of boozing. You don’t lecture him but you’re a lot more patient and understanding.

and uhhhh this does something to him. Like he’s confused, whys he feeling all these feelings towards a lady he’s barely interacted with?

oooo one day the tension between you guys would become too much and he’d kiss you and you’re both like wtfff- but it feels so good and so right so you just continue.

You two become masters of having a secret relationship and when the others find out it’s super unexpected and everybody’s a little baffled cos they figured the two of you hated one another??

It makes a good story to tell the grandkids, let me tell you that.

Dick Winters:

Ummmm this guy, yeah I’ve struggled to think of a scenario where he’d ever be anybody’s enemy (apart from the Germans obvs). But personally, he’s too respected, too calm and gentlemen like for you to be his enemy.

in this case maybe it’s more of a ‘we once had a thing but he stopped it and now I'm upset at him’.

like before you get serious, Dick has to stop the relationship because he knows it interferes with fraternising rules. Working together and being in a relationship would never ever ever work. The army forbids it.

it sucks and because he’s such a nice guy that sucks even more, like you can’t even look at him without wanting to cry, so you just completely blank him and try to push him away as far as humanely possible. Considering the circumstances you’re under, this isn’t very easy, nor is it very achievable.

dick always keeps an eye out for you, even though you don’t notice, he’s always asking others if you’re okay and if you’re taking care of yourself.

ofc there’s bigger things to worry about than your relationship ending, so the two of you would probably end up being completely professional with any interactions you have.

ouch it hurts both of you, but neither of you know it’s a mutual feeling? The longing for one another is so painful considering Dick thinks you hate his guts.

after the war is over and you leave the army, only then does Dick call you up one day and tells you everything.

like he wastes no time, trust me, and you’re in complete shock, because this man who became a total stranger to you is practically telling you he loves you?!??

ugh ofc you feel the same and the relationship back to lovers kinda begins to there.

But fr Dick Winters ending a relationship with you is legit your arc to become a villian- it’s no surprise you go a little crazy when he had to end things.

all you can say now is how glad you are things actually worked between you both, and be enthralled by the fact Dick practically waited for you the whole 3 years he knows you.