#and said person sees the tags that you leave

[lostfracturess]

REMEMBER ME IN SUMMER — SATORU GOJO

pairing — one night stand!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary — six months ago, you left satoru gojo's apartment before sunrise, thinking you'd never see him again. now, trapped in a beach house for a weekend with mutual friends, you're forced to face the man who doesn't seem to remember that night—or does he? between shared walls, heated touches, and games of pretend, you're starting to think maybe one night wasn't enough after all. but in a house full of friends, some things are better left in the past… right?

word count — 9.5 k

genre/tags — beach house AU, summer romance, one night stand to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, tension, awkward reunions, friends gathering, miscommunication, beach vibes, satoru is a little menace in this one

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, alcohol consumption, all characters aged up (mid 20s), language

author's note — hi everyone ! this fic came out of nowhere, and i literally wrote it in three days, but i really love the idea and the summer vibes in this one, even tho i wrote it while it was literally snowing outside, but somewhere on earth it's summer rn, so why not post it lol. hope you enjoy this mess of a summer romance story as much as i enjoyed writing it ! <3 (credit/art)

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The last person you expected to see in Okinawa was Satoru Gojo.

Yet there he was, lounging on the deck of the beach house like he belonged there, white hair catching the sunlight as he laughed at something someone had said. Your heart tumbled over itself as memories of that night six months ago flooded back unbidden.

"You okay?" Maki nudged you with her elbow. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

More like the ghost of past bad decisions. "I'm fine," you managed, gripping your weekend bag tighter. "Wasn't expecting so many people."

The beach house was supposed to be a simple weekend getaway with close friends. But somewhere between planning and execution, it had turned into a "friends of friends" situation to fill the eight-bedroom house Okkotsu's family had offered.

"Yeah, Yuta's cousin's boyfriend invited some people to fill the space," Maki explained, completely unaware of your internal crisis. "That's Satoru over there, by the way. He's actually pretty fun once you get past the whole—" She gestured vaguely at all of him.

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Because you were already very familiar with how "fun" Satoru Gojo could be.

Six months ago, you'd met him at a bar in Tokyo. He'd been charming and gorgeous, all easy smiles and playful banter. One drink had turned into several, flirting had turned into kissing, and kissing had turned into...

Well.

You'd slipped out of his apartment before dawn, leaving nothing but a lipstick stain on his collar and a dip in his pillow. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. You weren't looking for anything serious, and someone like him definitely wasn't the settling down type.

Now, watching him chat lively with your friends like the universe's cruelest joke, you wondered if you should have at least left your number.

"Girl," Maki waved her hand in front of your face. "You sure you're okay?"

Before you could answer, Satoru looked up. His eyes met yours across the deck, and for a moment, your heart stopped. 

But there was no recognition in those sea blue eyes. No hint that he remembered the way you'd gasped his name in the dark, the way his hands had traced every inch of your skin, the way he'd whispered "stay" against your shoulder just before you'd fallen asleep.

He just smiled politely, the same smile he’s probably giving everyone else too, and went back to his conversation.

Right. Of course he didn't remember. You were probably just one in a long line of one-night stands for someone like him. The thought shouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"Come on," Maki said, tugging you towards the house. "Let's get settled in before the others arrive.”

Up close, the beach house was even more impressive. A sprawling three-story mansion of white stone and floor-to-ceiling windows that caught the afternoon light like rippling water, a wraparound veranda with a cozy sitting area led to a private path down to the beach, lined with swaying palms and colourful flowers.

Inside, the house opened into a huge room with soaring ceilings and an open floor plan that made the space feel endless. Ocean views followed you everywhere through the massive windows, and the whole place smelled of salt and lemon.

"The bedrooms are upstairs," Maki said as she led you up a floating staircase. "Most of them are on the second floor, but there are two master bedrooms on the third."

The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. Not only did you have to spend the weekend pretending you didn’t know how Satoru's brows draw together when he'd cum, but your room ended up right next to his—the two largest bedrooms on the top floor, sharing a wall and a connecting balcony. Of course.

Your room was bigger than your entire apartment in Tokyo, with a king-size bed draped in soft white linens. One wall was entirely glass, offering an unobstructed view of the ocean, while the other walls were decorated with pictures and minimalist art.

"My god, the view’s amazing!" Maki gushed and threw open the balcony doors. The sound of waves immediately filled the room, along with fresh, salty ocean air. "You can see the whole beach from here." 

But you were too busy staring at the wall next to you, where a door that must lead to Satoru's room was hidden behind a cupboard. You could hear muffled movement from his room, the sound of his laugh drifting through the wall that suddenly felt far too thin and your mind helpfully supplied memories of other sounds he could make, and you wondered if it was too late to fake some sudden illness and go home.

"Yeah," you said, dropping onto the edge of the bed. "Amazing."

Maki flopped down beside you, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. "I know I've been here like five times already with Yuta, but it never gets old." She rolled onto her stomach and rested her chin on her hands. "Usually it's just us and his family, maybe a few cousins. This is the first time we're doing a friend group thing."

You tried to focus on her words instead of the sound of suitcases being wheeled into the room next door. "How long have you and Yuta been coming here?"

"Since we started dating three years ago. His family does this whole summer tradition thing." She smiled. "First time I came, I was so nervous I barely left the room. Now it feels like a second home." She sat up, crossing her legs. “And since his parents said we could use it this weekend, we thought why not invite friends.”

Through the wall, you could hear male voices chatting and laughing, followed by the sound of a door sliding open. Probably the balcony doors. Your shared balcony. Where he could walk past your windows at any time.

“You’re okay with this, right? Yuta’s friends are actually really fun once you get to know them. Especially Satoru, even tho he can be a pain in the ass.” Your stupid heart tumbled over itself once more at his name. "And single, if you're interested. I could—"

"No!" The word came out louder than intended, and you heard the conversation next door pause briefly. Lowering your voice, you added, "I mean, no thanks. Not really looking for anything right now."

Maki gave you a strange look. "You sure you're okay? You've been weird since we got here."

"Just tired from the drive," you lied and stood up. "Maybe I'll take a quick shower before everyone else arrives."

"Okay..." She didn't sound convinced but got up anyway. "I should go find Yuta anyway, make sure he's not letting Satoru destroy any of Yuta's mum's favourite vases."

You waited until she left before falling with your face first onto the bed with a groan. Perfect. Not only did you have to spend the weekend next door to your one night stand who might or might not remember you, but now your best friend was trying to set you up with him.

Through the wall, you heard Satoru laugh at something, the sound familiar enough to make your chest ache. 

It was going to be a very long weekend.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 

You'd barely finished unpacking when Yuji burst into your room without knocking. "Hey! We're setting up a net for beach volleyball. You in?"

"Ah, I don't really—"

"Everyone's playing!" He was already on his way back to the door. "Even Megumi, and you know how he is about fun."

Before you could form a proper excuse, Maki appeared behind him. "Come on, it'll be fun, the sun is out and it’s better than hiding up here all afternoon."

And that's how you found yourself trudging down to the beach, trying to convince yourself this was fine. Totally fine. Just a fun game of volleyball with friends. Nothing to worry about.

But then the boys started stripping off their shirts. It was like watching some ridiculous scene out of Top Gun as they all shed their shirt in the afternoon heat. But it was Satoru who made your brain go silent completely. 

He pulled his shirt off, and suddenly you were having vivid flashbacks to exactly how that toned chest felt under your hands. The sun caught his hair like a halo, and when he stretched his arms over his head, the muscles in his back shifted in ways that should not make your knees so weak, but here you were, rooted to the spot, your pulse racing as if it had a mind of its own.

"You're staring," Maki whispered next to you.

"I'm not," you said, even though you definitely were. How could you not? It was like someone had taken every beach volleyball scene from every summer movie ever and combined them into one ridiculous moment.

Teams were forming, and with an uneven number, you volunteered to sit this round out. Not that you were particularly eager to participate in the first place. You were perfectly happy watching from the safety of your beach towel, where the risk of accidentally brushing against Satoru's unnecessarily perfect body was thankfully minimized.

The game started, and it quickly became clear that everyone was taking it way too seriously, as Satoru and Yuji seemed to be in some sort of competition to see who could spike the ball more impressively. 

"Show off," you muttered to yourself as Satoru delivered a rather dramatic jump serve, the ball landing dangerously close to your foot. But he must have heard you, because he caught your eye with a wink that made your stomach flutter. "Like what you see?"

"I've seen better," you said before you could stop yourself.

His eyebrows shot up and a slow smile spread across his face. "Have you now?"

Oh god. Were you flirting? This was definitely flirting. You needed to stop staring at the way sweat was making his skin glisten and focus on... literally anything else.

"Pay attention!" Nobara yelled, and Satoru barely managed to dodge the ball she'd spiked directly at his head.

The game continued, growing more competitive with each round. You had to admit, it was entertaining watching your friends become more and more dramatic with each point. One of Yuta’s cousins and Yuji had some sort of rivalry going on, while Maki and Nobara were trash-talking each other.

But it was Satoru who kept drawing your attention. The way he moved was almost unfair and you found yourself following the drops of sweat as they made their way down his neck, remembering how that skin had tasted under your tongue.

"Incoming!"

You looked up just in time to see the volleyball heading straight for your face. Before you could react, Satoru dove in front of you and caught the ball just inches from your nose. The movement sent him sprawling across your legs, his face entirely too close to yours.

You blinked at him for a few moments, then whispered, "Thank you.” But the words came out too soft, almost like they had that night in Tokyo when he'd helped you into a taxi and then convinced you not to take it and instead come home with him.

Time seemed to slow, the crashing waves and voices of the others fading into white noise as Satoru's eyes met yours. For a moment, something flickered in those blue depths—a flash of recognition, perhaps even remembrance. 

His breath caught, barely noticeable, and his hand on your leg tightened ever so slightly. You watched his eyes, saw the exact moment his gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly you were back in that Tokyo bar, both of you caught in that same magnetic pull.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice so low that only you could hear it. There was something in his tone, a hint of question, like he was trying to place a hazy dream. His thumb brushed against your skin, possibly by accident, possibly not, sending shivers up your spine.

The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring, thick with shared memories—memories you weren't even sure he had. Then someone yelled "Dinner!" from the direction of the house, and the spell broke.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The sun was setting by the time everyone had showered and gathered around the huge dining table on the deck. Fairy lights twinkled overhead and the sound of the waves could be heard in the background as the chaos of fifteen people trying to organize a meal unfolded.

You'd taken extra care getting ready, telling yourself it was just because of the salt and sand, not because of the way Satoru had looked at you on the beach. You'd chosen a light summer dress that happened to be the exact shade of blue as his eyes—pure coincidence, of course—and had let your hair dry naturally in the sea breeze.

Yuta ended up ordering way too much from the local seafood restaurant, you concluded as you surveyed the spread of food on the table. 

You ended up squeezed between Maki and Megumi, which should have been a relief. Instead, you found yourself very aware of Satoru sitting directly across from you, his hair still slightly damp from his shower, wearing a loose white linen shirt that he should really button up and stop teasing the entire table with glimpses of his toned chest.

"Pass the crab?" he asked, and when you handed him the plate, your fingers brushed. The contact sent a shiver through you, and you could have sworn you saw his breath catch. But then he was turning to laugh at something Yuji said, and you were left wondering if you'd imagined the whole thing.

"—and then he just fell face first right into the sand!" Yuji was saying, gesturing wildly with his chopsticks. "You should have seen it!"

"We were all there, literally two hours ago," Megumi deadpanned.

"The game was rigged anyway," Nobara said, reaching for another plate of grilled shrimp. "You can't put Mr. Perfect over here on a team and expect it to be fair." She jerked her thumb in Satoru's direction.

"What can you do?" Satoru said, his eyebrows knitted together, but a grin played on his lips. "I just happen to be naturally gifted." And then his eyes caught yours once more across the table. 

Heat crept up the back of your neck as you remembered how he'd felt when he'd sprawled across your legs, his skin sun warm and slightly sandy. How his touch had lingered just a fraction too long to be casual. 

Something had changed in his expression, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But you'd spent hours that night memorizing his faces. His smirk when he had you right on the edge, his soft smile when you were trembling beneath him, the way his eyes darkened just before he—

Maki snorted. "Yeah, sure." And you looked over at her, breaking the eye contact before you could do something stupid like climb across the table and find out if he tasted as good as you remembered.

When the dinner was over, Nobara suggested to play drinking games, truth or dare to be specific, to which "What are we, fifteen?" Megumi commented but Maki already chimed in with "Never ever I ever" and so it was decided.

Your stomach dropped. The last thing you needed was a drinking game where people confessed their secrets. Especially with the way Satoru kept looking at you, like he was one memory away from connecting dots you really didn't want connected.

"I think I'll pass," you said, pushing your plate away. "The sun really did take it out of me."

You gathered your plates and the sound of the others setting up their drinking game followed you into the kitchen—Yuji's voice carrying over everyone else's as he argued about rules, Nobara shouting something about "no questions about exes," and Megumi's long drawn out sighs.

A salty ocean breeze swept into the kitchen through the open wall of windows overlooking the water as you rinsed your plate. "You know," a voice came from behind you, making you jump, "I was starting to think you hate me."

Your heart skipped a beat. You didn't need to turn around to know it was Satoru—would recognize that voice anywhere, had spent months trying to forget how it sounded when it was rough after he’d cum. But you turned anyway, finding him leaning against the doorframe and the kitchen suddenly felt so much smaller. 

"What?" The word came out embarrassingly breathless.

"Let me rephrase, for someone who doesn't hate me, you're doing an impressive job of avoiding me."

"I'm not avoiding you.” You turned back to the sink. "I'm doing dishes."

"Sure. The dishes." His voice got closer, and you could feel the heat of him just behind you. "Though I have to wonder why someone would work so hard to avoid someone they've never met before."

Your hands stilled under the running water. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've barely looked at me all day." He was close enough now that you could smell his perfume that had lingered on your clothes for days after that night. "Want to tell me what I did to deserve the cold shoulder? Because usually, I at least remember if I've pissed someone off."

Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, but at the same time the irony of his words made you want to laugh. "You haven't done anything," you said, which was technically true. He hadn't done anything wrong. Except maybe be too good in bed and then forget about it entirely.

"No?" His voice dropped lower, and you could feel his breath on your neck. "Then why—" He cut himself off. "Wait. Have we met before?"

You spun around, hands dripping water onto the floor. The motion brought you chest to chest with him, trapped between his body and the counter. "No," you said, too quickly, way too quickly. "Definitely not."

"You sure about that? Because you seem familiar—"

"Must just have one of those faces."

He moved closer still, one hand braced on the counter beside your hip, effectively caging you in. "Is that so? Because I’m sure I’d remember a pretty one like yours." You felt your breath catch in your throat, every nerve in your body screaming. He was going to kiss you, wasn't he? You should probably do something. Like move. Or breathe.

But then he simply stepped back, his smile widening. "Sorry. Must have mistaken you for someone else,” he said and the loss of his warmth felt like whiplash, leaving you cold despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air. You watched him retreat towards the door, casual as anything, like he hadn't just turned your world sideways.

Through the open door, laughter spilled in from the deck, breaking the spell that had held you captive. Satoru paused in the doorway for a moment, silhouetted against the warm light from outside, before disappearing back into the noise of your friends.

You stayed at the sink, trying to convince yourself that the heat in your cheeks was just from the summer air and ignoring the way your heart refused to settle in your chest. What had just happened? You had no idea. But one thing was painfully certain.

This weekend was going to be a long one.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Next morning, you decided to get up early and have your coffee on the beach before anyone else was awake. Sleep had been hard to come by anyway, with too many thoughts of certain one night stands keeping your mind racing. 

Dawn was just beginning to break over the horizon, painting the sky in orange and gold watercolours and the ocean stretched out before you, quiet and calm, each small wave catching the early light like diamonds.

You'd wrapped yourself in an oversized cardigan against the morning chill, bare feet buried in sand that was still cool from the night before. And of course, because the universe hated you, that's when Satoru appeared.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, settling into the sand beside you without invitation.

You clutched your coffee mug tighter. "Something like that."

"Yeah, me neither." He stretched his long legs out in front of him, and you definitely didn't notice how his shorts rode up slightly, definitely weren't thinking about how those thighs had felt under your hands. "Keep having these weird dreams."

"Oh?"

"Mmm." As he turned to look at you, the rising sun painted his profile gold, catching his eyelashes. There was something different about him in this light — softer somehow, more like the man who'd asked you to stay than the one who'd cornered you in the kitchen last night. "About a girl in a black dress. Red lipstick. The most amazing laugh I've ever heard."

Your heart stopped.

"Funny thing is," he continued casually, "I can never quite see her face in the dreams. But I remember how she tasted. How she felt pinned beneath me. How she clenching around my fingers. How she said my name when she—"

"Stop," you whispered.

"Why?" His voice was softer now. "Because you don't want to talk about that night? Or because you thought I wouldn't remember?"

You stared at the ocean, unable to meet his gaze. "You didn't seem to yesterday."

"Don’t be stupid. I recognized you the moment you walked into the beach house."

Your coffee nearly slipped from your hands. "What?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't remember the girl who stole my favourite shirt on her way out the door?"

Heat flooded your cheeks, you totally forgotten about the shirt. "Then yesterday, in the kitchen—"

"I wanted to see how long you'd keep pretending." He smiled, the bastard had the audacity to smile at you when he revealed that he was playing you the whole time. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?”

"You're mocking me."

"Mocking you?" His eyebrows rose. Then he leaned closer to you, but you still refused to look at him. "I spent six months trying to find the girl with the kind of laugh that makes you feel drunk just hearing it, who left before I could ask for her number—" 

"It was just one night," you interrupted.

"Was it? Because I distinctly remember asking you to stay."

"I couldn't."

"Couldn't? Or wouldn't?"

You finally met his gaze fully, and immediately wished you hadn't. Because he was looking at you the same way he had that night. He was enjoying this, wasn't he? Playing with you, teasing you, making you feel like a flustered schoolgirl. 

"Does it matter?" you asked.

"You're really a bit slow, aren't you?"

You wanted to protest, to tell him exactly what you thought of his arrogant everything, but then Maki's voice carried across the beach, "Breakfast! Come and get it before Yuji eats everything!"

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The breakfast table was just as chaotic as the dinner the night before. Fifteen people crammed around the table had that effect, especially with Yuji already piling his plate high with pancakes while Nobara complained about him taking too many. 

You'd barely settled into an empty chair when Satoru slid into the seat next to you, as if he hadn't just admitted that he'd been playing jokes on you the whole day before. 

"Can you pass me the syrup?" he asked innocently, but there was nothing innocent about the way his thigh pressed against yours under the table. 

You handed him the bottle without looking at him, trying to focus on pouring your coffee without spilling it everywhere. Which was made all the more difficult when his hand found your knee under the table.

"So what's everyone's plans for today?" Maki asked, passing around a plate of fresh fruit.

You tried to concentrate on the conversation, you really did. But Satoru's hand was inching higher up your thigh, and your brain was shorted out. You kicked him under the table, aiming for his shin.

He didn't even flinch, just smiled wider and continued whatever conversation he was having with Megumi about later activities, all while his fingers danced along the hem of your shorts. You felt a sudden surge of heat, definitely not from the summer sun.

"You okay?" Nobara asked suddenly. "You look a bit flushed."

"Fine!" Your voice came out higher than intended as Satoru's fingers skimmed just slightly under the edge of your shorts. "Just... hot."

"It is pretty warm this morning," Satoru agreed, his tone perfectly pleasant even as his thumb pressed into that sensitive spot on your inner thigh that he somehow remembered. The bastard. You kicked him again, harder this time.

"Did someone just kick the table?" Maki looked around suspiciously.

"Must have been the wind," you said stupidly.

You grabbed his wrist under the table, intending to push his hand away, but he just interlaced his fingers with yours and kept them there on your thigh. It was like he was asserting dominance, staking his claim, and you were suddenly trapped.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked through a mouthful of pancakes. "You're acting weird."

"Totally fine," you managed. "Just didn't sleep well."

"Hmm, me neither," Satoru chimed in, his voice all false innocence. "Must be all these weird dreams I keep having." You dug your nails into his hand in warning, but he just squeezed your hand in response, his grip tightening.

"Dreams?" Nobara asked.

"Oh, you know," Satoru began thoughtfully, "the kind that keep you up all night, thinking about... things that got away."

You were going to murder him. Slowly. Possibly with the butter knife you were currently gripping way too tight.

"That's... weirdly poetic for you," Maki said, raising an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't want to know,” he replied, and you felt his fingers inch just slightly higher once more, making you jump and bang your knee on the table.

"Jesus, what is wrong with you two this morning?" Nobara asked, looking between you and Satoru.

Under the table, you finally managed to grab his hand in yours and hold it still. But that backfired when he started playing with your fingers instead, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a way that made you gasp. You definitely wanted to kill him. Right after you figured out how to breathe normally again.

"So, beach day? I wanna go snorkelling," Yuji said, thankfully drawing attention away from whatever was going on under the table, and everyone agreed. JJust then, Satoru freed his hand from yours and placed it back on your knee before trailing it up your thigh. 

Okay, nope this had to end now.

"I need more coffee," you announced abruptly, standing up so fast your chair scraped against the deck.

"I'll help," Satoru offered, already rising.

"No!" The word came out too sharp, making everyone look at you strangely. "I mean, I'm good. Thanks."

You practically fled into the kitchen, your skin still tingling where he'd touched you. Through the window, you could see him chatting with the others, looking completely unaffected while you were here trying to remember how to make your heart beat normally.

When is this weekend going to end?

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

"You sure you're okay?" Maki asked, swimming up beside you. "You've been weird all morning. Is the sun too much?"

"I'm fine," you said for what felt like the hundredth time today. "I’m not used to be around so many people."

The water was crystal clear, stretching out in various shades of blue that seemed to go on forever. Everyone had eagerly jumped into snorkeling, with Yuji and Nobara already in a heated competition about who could spot the most fish.

You adjusted your mask for the tenth time, trying to focus on anything except how good Satoru looked in just swim shorts. He was a few meters away, the sunlight catching the droplets of water that clung to his ridiculously toned shoulders.

My God. You needed distance. You needed space to breathe, to think, to do anything other than stare at him.

"If you say so." Maki didn't look convinced. "But tell me if something’s bothering you, okay?"

If only she knew. "Sure."

"Guys, come look at this!" Yuji called from where he was floating near some corals. "Rainbow fish!" 

Everyone swam over to where he was pointing, and you had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Countless colourful fish swam through the coral, creating a vibrant palette under the water.

You followed the fish as a sudden pressure against your calf made you flinch. Satoru. He had brushed against your leg. It could have been an accident, a mere consequence of the crowded water, but somehow, it felt like anything but. You knew better. Nothing about Satoru was ever accidental.

You drifted slightly away from the group, desperately needing to put some distance between yourself and Satoru. The vibrant corals blurred into streaks of colour as you swam further from the group, the shouts of Yuji and Nobara fading.

The water a bit away from them was deeper, a darker shade of blue. As you peered down, you noticed the sandy ground was dotted with small stones, and a different kind of life seemed to thrive here. Sea anemones swayed gently in the current, and schools of silver fish, smaller than the ones near the reef, darted in and out of the anemones.

You floated on your back for a moment, gazing up at the sky, a vast expanse of pale blue flecked with fluffy white clouds as the sun warmed your face. It was so peaceful, and you were happy for the small pause amidst the chaos of the house.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

You startled at Satoru's voice right behind you, nearly inhaling water through your snorkel. He'd somehow managed to swim up without you noticing, and now he was close enough that his arm brushed yours in the water.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, pulling your snorkel out.

"I know a better spot.” He nodded towards a more secluded area around the curve of the beach. "If you're interested."

You glanced back at the others, but they were all absorbed in whatever Yuji had found. "I don't think—"

"Come on," he said, already swimming away. "Don't you trust me?"

"Not even a little bit." But found yourself following him anyway.

He led you around a small outcropping of rocks, the current tugging gently at your fins, to a quieter part of the reef. His hand on your arm gently guided you through the water. The water here was somehow even clearer, as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a breathtaking underwater scenery with colourful coral formations that created a labyrinth of archways and caverns with small fish swimming in between.

"How did you—"

"I came here earlier this morning," he said, treading water close to you. "While you were pretending to ignore me after breakfast."

"I wasn't—" You cut yourself off as he dove under the surface, the sunlight playing across his back as he swam deeper.

You followed him down, your breath taken away by the sight. This part of the reef was like something out of a documentary. Swarms of tropical fish swirled around you in ribbons of colour, and the coral itself seemed to shine in the filtered sunlight.

When you surfaced, Satoru was watching you with an annoyingly knowing smile. "Worth following me?"

"It's alright," you said, trying to sound unimpressed even though you were anything but.

He laughed. "You're still trying to play hard to get?"

"I'm not playing anything."

"No?" He swam closer, close enough that you could see droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes. "Then why did you follow me here?"

"To see the fish.”

"The fish." His voice was amused. "Sure. That's why you've been watching me all morning?"

"I have not—"

"You know," he cut you off, moving even closer, his body brushing against yours in the water. "You're pretty when you get all flustered. Just like that night in Tokyo. Same flush you had when I made you cum three times.”

Ha? Had he been keeping count or what? You frantically tried to replay that night in your head — there was the first time against his apartment door, then on the kitchen counter, and... oh god, he was right. The bastard had been counting. The smirk on his face told you he knew exactly what you were thinking about.

You splashed water at him. "We are not talking about Tokyo."

He wiped water from his face, grinning. "No? Should we talk about this morning instead? About how you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched your—"

You dunked him mid-sentence.

He came up spluttering, pushing wet hair from his eyes. "Okay, I probably deserved that."

"You definitely deserved that."

But he laughed, and despite yourself, you found yourself laughing too. There was something infectious about him, something that made it hard to keep your walls up, dissolving your defenses with unnerving ease, like mist beneath the morning sun.

"We should head back," you said finally. "Before they come looking for us."

"Probably," he agreed, but made no move to leave. Instead, he floated closer, until his chest pressed against yours. "Or we could stay here a bit longer. I could remind you of all the other ways I can make you wet."

Heat flooded your body. "Satoru..."

"Yes?" His hands found your waist under the water, pulling you flush against him. One thigh slipped between yours, and you had to bite back a gasp at the friction. "You know, I still remember exactly how you sound when you're trying not to moan my name."

"We can't." But your body betrayed you, arching into his touch as his fingers skimmed along your ribs, dangerously close to your breast.

"Can't?" His lips ghosted over your lips, his thumb tracing circles on your hip under the water in a way that made you think of how those fingers had felt inside you. "Or are you afraid you won't be able to keep quiet this time?"

Before you could answer, Nobara's voice carried across the water. "Where did you guys go?"

You pushed away from him quickly, already swimming back towards the group. "Coming!"

"This isn't over," he called after you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

"It never started!" you shot back, but you were smiling too.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Satoru spent the rest of the afternoon driving you absolutely insane.

After snorkeling, he'd positioned his beach towel suspiciously close to yours, spending an unnecessary amount of time applying sunscreen to his chest and arms. His movements were deliberately slow, borderline pornographic, fingers sliding over muscle in a way that had you remembering exactly how those muscles had felt flexing under your tongue. 

You knew without a doubt he was putting on a show for you—every movement a reminder of how those arms had looked braced above you as he'd fucked you against his apartment door, how they'd felt pinning your wrists to his sheets.

During lunch, he'd somehow ended up next to you again, his bare thigh pressed hot against yours under the table like this morning had taught him nothing. Except this time, his hand didn't just rest on your knee. It spent the entire meal tracing patterns up your thigh, fingertips dancing dangerous close to where you'd been aching for him.

Your breath caught every time his hand "accidentally" slipped under the hem of your shorts, remembering how those fingers had curled inside you, how they'd made you beg.

The afternoon beach volleyball rematch was even worse. He kept finding excuses to touch you—steadying you with a hand on your waist when you stumbled in the sand (the same way he'd gripped your hips while taking you from behind), reaching around you to grab the ball (his breath hot on your neck like when he'd whispered how good you felt around him), his chest pressing against your back, closer than needed (making you remember how it felt to be pressed between him and that apartment door).

But dinner? Dinner was pure torture.

He'd shown up freshly showered, hair still damp and tousled in that way that made your fingers itch to grab it (like you had when he was between your thighs), wearing a dark blue linen shirt that he hadn't bothered to button properly once more and spent the entire meal finding new ways to make you squirm.

He'd catch your eye across the table and slowly lick sauce off his thumb, making you remember exactly how that tongue had felt when he'd spread you open. When passing dishes, his fingers would brush against yours unnecessarily long, making you shiver. At one point, he'd stretched his arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal his lower abs that had you gripping your fork so hard your knuckles turned white.

He knew exactly what he was doing, too—you could tell by the smug look on his face throughout the whole dinner. 

Thankfully, no one else seemed to notice anything amiss. They were all too busy with their own conversations, completely oblivious to the way he was systematically dismantling your sanity with nothing more than glances and touches.

Every time you thought you'd gotten yourself under control, he'd do something else — run his fingers through his hair the same way he had when you'd been on your knees in front of him, or bite his lip in a way that had you crossing your legs under the table. By dessert, you were a mess of sexual frustration and murderous impulses. 

He was enjoying this, the bastard. Testing your control, seeing how far he could push before you broke. And the most infuriating part? 

It was working. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

After dinner, everyone wandered into the living room in various states of food induced laziness. You'd barely managed to claim a corner of the big couch when Nobara disappeared into the kitchen, returning with an armful of wine bottles and a certain look in her eye that spelled trouble.

"No one move," she announced, setting the bottles on the coffee table. "I have an idea."

"Your ideas usually end with someone crying," Megumi commented from his spot on the floor.

"Or arrested," Maki added helpfully.

"Or both," you muttered, trying to ignore how Satoru had somehow appeared in the armchair closest to your corner of the couch. He'd rolled up his sleeves during dinner, forearms on full display, and you were having a hard time not staring at his fingers. Fingers that you knew from experience felt so good in your mouth to keep you from—

"Never have I ever!" Nobara's voice cut through your dangerous train of thought. A collective groan rose from the group.

"Not again," Megumi said, already trying to get up.

"Sit your ass down," Nobara commanded, pushing him back down. "We're bonding."

"We bonded plenty last night," you Yuta tried, but Nobara was having none of it and before you knew it, everyone agreed.

"Okay, I'll start easy," Yuji said, clearly excited despite his earlier protests. "Never have I ever cheated on a test."

Several people drank, including Satoru—and you, okay let’s be real. 

The questions started innocent enough. Never have I ever broken a bone. Never have I ever been arrested. Never have I ever dyed my hair. But as the wine flowed, the questions got progressively more suggestive.

"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender," Maki said, and half the circle drank. "Never have I ever faked it," was Nobara's contribution, and several people groaned but drank.

You were starting to feel a bit hazy, the wine making everything feel warm and soft around the edges. Which was dangerous, because Satoru kept looking at you like he was remembering exactly how you'd sounded that night when you definitely hadn't been faking anything.

"Never have I ever," one of Yuta’s cousins announced then, "had sex with someone in this room." For a moment, no one moved. Then Yuta and Maki drank, of course. And then Satoru raised his own glass slowly and took a long sip.

"Who?" Nobara shrieked, looking around the circle. "Satoru just drank, so someone else here has to—" Her gaze swept over everyone suspiciously.

"Someone's lying," Maki sang, already tipsy enough to find this hilarious. "Come on, fess up!"

You kept your face carefully neutral, even as you felt Satoru's eyes burning into you. You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not this time.

"Maybe it was before any of us knew each other," Yuji suggested, but Nobara shook her head.

"No way. Look at his face!" She pointed accusingly at Satoru. "He's got that look. You know, that 'I know something you don't know' look."

Satoru just smiled lazily from his armchair, swirling the wine in his glass. "Maybe I just like keeping you all guessing."

"You're a dumbass," Nobara said, but the group's attention was already shifting as Yuji launched into the next question, something about falling asleep at work.

You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, but made the mistake of glancing at Satoru and he gave you a look that sent a shiver of heat through you over his wine glass. 

God, you were going to murder him. Slowly. Painfully. Preferably with the very wine glass he was currently smirking into. 

Who did he think he was, just casually drinking like that, nearly exposing everything? He could have at least warned you, given you some sign he was about to blow up your secret. But no, he'd just taken that deliberate sip, probably getting hard on watching you squirm as you tried to keep your poker face. 

That sick bastard.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Sleep was impossible. You'd been tossing and turning for hours, replaying the day's events in your mind—from that moment in the ocean to his deliberate almost-reveal during the game. The walls of this fancy beach house seemed paper thin at night, every small sound amplified in the darkness.

That's how you heard his door open around 2 AM, followed by quiet footsteps heading downstairs.

You waited a few minutes, telling yourself you were just thirsty, that going downstairs for water had nothing to do with knowing he was maybe down there. The wooden steps creaked softly under your bare feet as you made your way down.

Silvery moonlight streamed through the massive windows, creating silver patterns on the marble countertops of the kitchen. Satoru stood at the island, drinking water from a glass, looking unfairly handsome in just sleep shorts and a wrinkled t-shirt.

"Couldn't sleep?" he whispered when he spotted you.

"What's your game, Satoru?" You kept your voice equally low, padding closer. "That thing earlier? During never have I ever?"

"Game? I'm not the one who was afraid of drinking".

"Because unlike you, I don't feel the need to announce our business to everyone."

He set his glass down, turning to face you fully. "Our business? So you admit there's something to announce?"

"That's not—" You caught yourself before your voice could rise. "What are you trying to achieve here? With all the—" you gestured vaguely, "touching and teasing and almost exposing everything?"

He stepped closer, and suddenly the kitchen felt way too small, even though it was like three times the size of your Tokyo apartment. "Maybe I just want everyone to know that night wasn't as casual for me as you seem to think it was."

You felt the weight of his words settle in the quiet kitchen, heavy with meaning you weren't prepared to unpack while moonlight caught his features in a way that made him look softer, almost vulnerable.

"What are you talking about? It was only one night."

"Was it?" He moved closer, until you had to tilt your head back to keep eye contact. "Because I remember asking you to stay. I remember waking up to an empty bed and spent the next six months thinking about why you left."

"I... you were just saying that in the moment. People say lots of things in the moment."

"Do they?" His hand came up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is that why you ran? Because you thought I didn't mean it?"

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore how your skin prickled where he'd touched you. "Satoru..."

"You know what I think?" His voice dropped even lower, barely a whisper in the quiet kitchen. "I think you're scared. Not of me, but of the fact that you wanted to stay too."

"That's not—" But the words died in your throat as his thumb traced your jawline.

"Then why are you down here?" He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. "If it was just one night, just something casual, why did you follow me down here in the middle of the night?"

The counter pressed against your back—when had you started backing up?—and Satoru's arms came to rest on either side of you, caging you in. Position achingly familiar, reminding you of how this all started six months ago.

"I was thirsty," you said. You did not even believe yourself as you said it.

His laugh was barely a breath against your skin. "Liar."

And then his mouth was on yours, and god, you'd forgotten how good he was at this. His lips were soft but demanding, one hand sliding into your hair while the other gripped your hip, forcing you close against him. You gasped into the kiss, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, his tongue against yours in a way that made you forget your own name.

It was different from that first night—less urgent, but somehow more intense. He kissed you like he was trying to prove a point, like he was laying claim to every moment you'd denied him these past six months. His teeth caught your lower lip, and you had to bite back a whimper, too aware of the sleeping house above.

"Still want to pretend this is nothing?" he whispered against your mouth, and you could feel his smile when your only response was to pull him back down for another kiss.

His hands slid down to grip your thighs, lifting you onto the counter. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer as his mouth moved to your neck, kissing your throat just the way you like it, just the way he somehow remembered.

"Someone could come down," you breathed, even as your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Then I guess you'll have to be quiet." His teeth grazed your skin, making you shiver. "Think you can manage that? Because I distinctly remember you being quite vocal last time."

You tightened your grip on his hair in return, but that just made him groan softly against your throat. "You're stupid."

"Mm, that's not what you said in Tokyo." His hands slid higher under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. "In fact, I remember you saying some very different things—"

You cut him off with another kiss, partly to shut him up and partly because you needed his mouth on yours like you needed air. His fingers teased along your ribs, your back, your thighs, touching you everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to.

But then his fingers found the edge of your underwear, and you had to bite his shoulder to keep from moaning as he slid his fingers inside you, making you cum all over his fingers in seconds—just like that night in Tokyo.

You were done, dizzy, breathless, clinging to him as he stripped your shorts and underwear down your legs. He pushed one leg up your chest as he lowered you back down onto the marble kitchen counter, your other leg still wrapped around his waist. His forehead pressed against yours as he thrust inside, hard, slow, perfect angle—just like that night in Tokyo.

He tossed you around, manhandled you, fucked you against the fridge, threw you onto the couch and fucked you there too. He whispered your name, his voice husky against your ear, every letter a caress, even as he picked up pace, even as his hand closed around your throat, even as you bit into the pillow below to muffle your screams as he made you cum again. Multiple times. In various positions. Using his own cum as a lube for the next round—just like that night in Tokyo.

Afterwards you laid outside on the veranda in a big chair you both shared, gazing up at the stars scattered across the deep velvet sky, countless and impossibly bright. A second later his lips found yours and another second later you were on top of him, underwear pushed to the side and your head thrown back as he watched you chase your release on his dick—just like that night in Tokyo.

And his hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he ate you out on the stairs just before you wanted to go back to bed, but he wouldn't let you, making you cum again before he carried you off to the laundry room to fuck you one last time for sure good mesure—just like that night in Tokyo.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

Morning came way too early, sunlight streaming through windows you'd forgotten to close. Every muscle in your body ached in the most pleasant way, reminding you of exactly how many surfaces you and Satoru had christened last night. 

Yeah. You were definitely going to be feeling this for days. You winced slightly as you sat up — apparently kitchen counters weren't the most ergonomic choice for certain activities, or the stairs, or the laundry room, or... Okay, we get it.

When you finally made it downstairs, moving perhaps a bit more strangely than usual, Satoru was already at the breakfast table. Because of course he was, looking absolutely perfect and fullyfull rested in a fresh shirt, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn't spent half the night making you bite down on your fist to keep quiet.

"Well, someone looks rough," Nobara commented as you lowered yourself carefully into a chair. "Too much wine last night?"

You caught Satoru hiding a smirk behind his coffee cup. The bastard didn't even have the decency to look tired.

"Something like that," you muttered, reaching for the coffee pot and trying not to wince at the stretch. Your thighs burned in protest of the movement, and you could swear you saw Satoru's smile widening at your slight grimace.

"Must have been some wine," Nobara said, eyeing you suspiciously. "I don't remember you drinking that much during the game."

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yuji asked, looking concerned. "You're walking kind of funny."

"I'm fine, really," you managed. "Too much wine, that’s all."

Maki, who sat next to you, leaned in closer. "Your 'too much wine' is showing," she whispered, pointing to your collarbone. Your hand flew to your neck, suddenly remembering all the attention Satoru had paid to that area—especially that moment on the stairs when you'd begged him to finish what he'd started before anyone heard them, while he sucked a very dark bruise right above your collarbone.

You quickly buttoned up your cotton shirt higher, but from Nobara's growing grin, it was too late. But thankfully, no one commented on it.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟  

The rest of Sunday passed in a lazy haze, with everyone moving a bit slower thanks to varying degrees of wine headaches. Most of the day was spent sprawled out on beach chairs, hiding behind sunglasses and drinking coconut water that Yuta swore would help with hangovers (but, in fact, did not).

You dozed on and off under an umbrella, trying not to think about how your body still ached in several places from the night before, and enjoyed your last day in Okinawa before you'd return to work on Monday.

When evening rolled around and it was time to pack up, the house became a chaos of suitcases and forgotten phone chargers once more. You were struggling with your bag next to your car, trying to figure out the best angle to lift it into the trunk without stressing your still sore muscles, when Satoru suddenly appeared and took it from your hands without a word.

"I can manage," you protested, but he was already lifting it into your trunk with an effortless ease that really shouldn't be as attractive as it was.

"I'm sure you can," he said, closing your trunk with a soft thud. "But maybe I just want an excuse to do this." 

Before you could ask what 'this' was, he pressed a small folded piece of paper into your palm. You opened it to find a phone number written in his surprisingly neat handwriting.

"Since you didn't stay for it last time," he said softly.

"What makes you think I'll use it?"

"Because this time, you want to stay just as much as I want you to." He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only you could hear. "Besides, I believe we still have a few surfaces in my apartment left to explore."

You shoved his shoulder. "Stop." 

He caught your hand before you could push him again. "Use it. Please?" His voice held a note of softness, an unexpected tenderness that made your heart ache with a strange longing. You nodded, tucking the paper safely into your back pocket.

"Still not announcing anything to everyone tho," you warned as Maki called out that they were ready to leave.

"Yet," he said with an eye roll. Then, before you could react, he pulled you in for one last kiss. It was slower, deeper this time, his hands cupping your face as he kissed you, as if he was afraid he might forget the feel of your lips.

"Someone could see us," you whispered against his lips, even as your fingers curled into his shirt.

"I don't care," he murmured, one hand sliding down to your waist to draw you closer. "Let them see." He kissed you again, shorter this time but no less intense. "Besides, they'll find out soon enough when I take you to this little ramen place in Shibuya I've been wanting to show you."

You pulled back slightly. "Oh? Someone's confident about getting a second date."

"Third, technically," he said. "If we're counting Tokyo. And that thing against the washing machine last night."

"Those don't count.”

"Then I guess I'll have to make the next one special. Maybe dinner first. Then I can show you my apartment. Properly this time, not just the entrance hall and kitchen counter."

"Is that your way of asking me out?"

"That's my way of saying I'm not letting you disappear for six months again." He pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Use my number this time, yeah?"

"Satoru!" Yuji's voice carried across the driveway. "Stop making out and help me with these bags!"

Satoru laughed against your lips, stealing one more kiss before reluctantly pulling away. "Think about it. The ramen place. My apartment. All the surfaces we haven't used yet."

"Go help Yuji," you said, pushing him away even as you smiled. "Before he comes over here."

"Call me," he said, walking backwards with that stupidly handsome smile. "Or I'll just have to show up at your office. Make a big scene. Maybe bring flowers. Really embarrass you in front of all your coworkers."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me!" He finally turned then to help with the bags, leaving you to shake your head, your lips still tingling from his kisses.

The drive home felt different somehow. Every now and then, your hand would drift to your pocket, fingers brushing over the folded paper with his number, making sure it was still there as the familiar roads back to Tokyo stretched ahead.

The beach house grew smaller in your rearview mirror until it disappeared completely, taking with it the memories of lazy afternoons under the summer sun and heated nights. But other things lingered—the ghost of his lips against yours, the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.

Maybe you'd call him tomorrow. Or maybe you'd wait a day or two, just to prove you could. But knowing you, you'd likely message him the moment you set foot in your apartment.

A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled onto the highway, the setting sun painting the sky in strokes of rose and  lavender. Whatever happened next, one thing was for sure — this weekend had changed everything.

And maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing.

masterlist + support my writing

author's note — and that's a wrap on our beach house summer story ! thank you so much for reading :)) & thank you again to @/nanamis-baker for beta reading !!

for anyone wondering, yes, she kept the shirt. and yes, he definitely noticed when she wore it to their first proper date to that ramen spot in shibuya.

if you enjoyed this fic, please feel free to leave a comment or reblog. it means so much !! until next time. stay thirsty hydrated, my friends <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here.

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna @cocomanga

@nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @sugurbo @chiyokoemilia @janbannan

@bloopsstuff @snowsilver2000 @ihearttoru @momoewn @yokosandesu

@90s-belladonna @fairygardenprincesss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[two-white-butterflies]

you'll live forever | part one

Description: Hwang In-ho joins the newest edition of Squid Games as Player 001. He sees the wife that he believes to be dead, and she cannot remember him.

Pairing: hwang in-ho/reader

A/N: I love Squid Games but let us not allow the capitalism-fication of this franchise to let us forget about the series' core message. capitalism sucks. Don't let violence desensitize us. Warning: idk if I used the word hyung correctly... multipart, comment to get tagged.

There were times when he'd wake up too early in the morning when the sun would greet his sensitive eyes, and he'd take a longer time to adjust to the brightness. In those rare moments, he sees the faint silhouette of your body, in those rare times, he even smells your cherry blossom perfume.

A sigh escapes his mouth as he sinks further into the sheets.

No matter how far his hands reach out - you won't be there to hold it.

"I have work tomorrow, I don't want to drink." A complaint escapes In-ho's mouth as his younger brother drags him to the nearest bar. In-ho has never been fond of spending time around other people, he'd much rather focus on work and getting that new promotion...

"Who said anything about drinking, hyung? You promised me that you'd make time to meet my girlfriend," the younger man rolls his eyes, dragging his brother to the center of the room where everyone was huddled near the television. Yep, soccer. "My schedule is cleared next Saturday," In-ho raises an eyebrow.

"Oppa!!" He hears someone scream at the top of their lungs, and his brother quickly makes her way towards the woman - greeting her with a hug. 'Young love,' In-ho thinks to himself, as he turns to look the other way - he suddenly catches a glimpse of someone.

You.

One.

His eyes trailed upwards, soaking in the sight of your face. He sees his future inside of your eyes, your perfect lips, the way you slowly begin to smile at him.

Two.

His gaze trails downwards as he sees the beautiful dress that you're wearing. He begins to praise the summer days, his eyes brushing against your creamy thighs, making his heart thump erratically.

Three.

"Hyung, this is my girlfriend Hee-jo and that's her friend. What was your name again?" His brother turns to look at you, and that smile deepens - your eyes meeting his. "My name's In-ho," he greets, and you mumble your name underneath your breath, shaking his hand.

"I'm sorry for tagging along Jun-ho. Hee-jo's dad made me come with," You blushed. In fear that you were intruding on the couple's personal moment. "Don't worry, you're like a sister to me." Jun-ho chuckles, sitting beside Hee-jo - leaving his brother with no choice but to sit beside you.

As Hee-jo raises her hand to drink a glass of beer, the entire bar erupts into a cacophony of cheers - South Korea has earned a point! Everyone stands up, but In-ho and you remain seated.

He smiles, watching you cheer for the motherland.

This particular memory has been burned into his mind. It only took him three seconds to see you and fall in love. "Yay," you giggled after the bartenders announced a round of drinks on the house. And after that encounter, fate seemed to smile on you both.

He remembers all the memories, the good and bad.

He also remembers your first date. It was the first winter of 2008. "You were born in 1976?" You raised an eyebrow, continuing to stuff your face with beef and lettuce. "Yes, is there something wrong with that?" He pretended to look offended.

'How old is she?' his eyebrows merged together.

He places a piece of kimchi inside his mouth. "How old are you?" He asks, cursing himself for forgetting to ask Jun-ho. "I was born in 1986. I honestly thought that you were much younger," you pouted.

'That would make her...' he calculates your age in the back of his mind. Ten years younger than him! He almost bites his tongue. "Is that going to be a problem?" He tilts his head. He definitely does not have a chance with someone like you, so beautiful and young.

"No, I like older men." You say bluntly. He almost spits out his drink, earning a giggle from you. "Ouch," he pretends to be hit. "So, what is it exactly that you do for work?" You ask with a smile, happily eating your meal. "I'm a police officer. I mostly do detective cases, what about you?" He inquires with interest.

"I just graduated. I work at the hospital." You informed.

"Are you a doctor?" He asks.

"No, I'm a nurse. It's always been a dream of mine," your eyes sparkle at the mention of making your dreams a reality. "Saving people," you quickly added. "- I guess you feel the same way too, since you're a police officer." You pointed out.

In-ho nods.

"I guess we are the same," he continues nodding. The entire date, the smile does not leave his lips...then,

One date, becomes two, becomes a thousand.

And finally, you are getting married to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" In-ho wraps his arms around you, preparing to meet your guests who are waiting in the reception. A deep sigh escapes your mouth. "I'm scared," you confessed. He wraps his arms around you, already aware of your fears.

"I mean everyone's going to be from your side of the family - and everyone's already talking about how I don't have parents." You chuckled nervously. All these ajummas won't stop talking about your personal life. In-ho has even contemplated not inviting them at all, but his father insisted. "Fuck them," he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks and pressing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Let's enjoy our wedding," he smiles.

"I love you, In-ho." You repeated.

"I love you more," he responded.

He has always loved you more.

The beautiful days of the roses were over, he was only left with the darkness of the night. "ESRD," the doctor opened his mouth to speak. "How dangerous is it?" In-ho fights against that heaving feeling in the back of his throat.

"ESRD, End Stage Renal Disease is where the kidney can no longer support the body's needs. Most typically, I would recommend dialysis in moderate cases, but for severe cases, I strongly advise a kidney transplant. Your wife has a very common blood type, it will be easy to get a match, but that's not the problem." The doctor hesitates, In-ho recognizes the man to be one of your closest friends.

He hands In-ho a stack of files.

"It's expensive to pay for kidney transplants in this country. There is a waiting list for donors, but it'll take decades - there are some who sell their kidneys but it costs almost a billion won, and then there's the medicine, the operation, and the hospital. It takes a lot of money and she's one of my closest friends so please feel free to reach out to me. I can give a bit of what I have." The doctor rambles.

Whatever it takes, even when the cost is too high.

₩649,344,412

In-ho stares at the cost of your transplant, and he knows that he doesn't have that money. "We'll be fine," he tells himself.

"I need to borrow money," In-ho stares at the loanshark. The man looked like a typical gangster, with tattoos all over his forearm, and the smell of cigarettes looming over the air.

"The high and mighty detective borrowing money from someone like me?" The man teased. In-ho has been watching this man for the past two years, waiting for a mistake - the loanshark's #1 enemy, and now begging at his doorsteps for money. "10% interest rate, you pay every month." The loanshark emphasized.

His cronies laugh, and one of them continues to massage him.

"5% and you give me the cash today," In-ho demands, an air of authority radiating around him. "Borrow money from someone else," the man scoffs. "- I know about the money laundering." In-ho leans cooly on the chair, pretending to be confident about the situation.

"6%," the man clenches his jaw.

"You have yourself a deal," In-ho agrees.

After the secret meeting, the loanshark got arrested. In-ho was fired from his job - the superiors believed that he was bribed to hide the loanshark's secret. And then he got a call from a random number.

He played ddakji with a strangely well-dressed man in the middle of the subway station, and he joined the 28th Squid Games.

He won the 28th Squid Games.

He exited the black van, his white shoes meeting the dirty ground. He stands to look at your home, everyone is staring at him. "What are you doing here!" Hee-jo screams at him. "She's dead, you didn't even visit her, she's dead!" Hee-jo yells.

In-ho stares in shock, looking around him, to see different types of flowers scattered all over the porch. 'I have the money,' he wanted to say as tears spilled out of his irises. "How dare you come here." Hee-jo continued crying as her grip on his forearm tightens, hurting him.

"In-ho," his younger brother looks shocked to see him.

"I'm sorry," In-ho mumbles.

I'm sorry.

Comment to get tagged for PT. 2

[gloomysoup]

he's probably worried (not hiding anymore)

@steddiebingo christmas card prompt: secret relationship

rating: teen+ | word count: 717 | tags: post-s3, post- starcourt, coming out | ao3

The air is filled with red-orange flames and smoke as the mall burns to the ground in front of him. His head is still spinning, face throbbing, and he can barely breathe. The adrenaline is starting to fade, and Steve’s injuries are making themselves known. He stands side-by-side with Robin, neither of them saying a word. Everything has changed. Neither of them will ever be the same person they once were.

Steve has a fleeting thought that Eddie must be worried. It's gone just as soon as it was there when the paramedics are ushering them into the ambulance and taking them to the hospital.

Everything is a blur of sirens and lights, Robin’s hand in his, a shock blanket around his shoulders. Doctors and bright lights, wires and beeping machines. He gets set up in a room for monitoring. Robin is okay. The kids are okay. Everyone is okay.

Steve doesn't even register what's happening when the nurse says they're going to call his emergency contact. His brain still feels a little fuzzy, even if things are starting to become clearer.

Everyone is gathered in Steve’s room. Robin and Dustin are sitting at the end of the bed, on either side of his legs. Robin refuses to leave his side. Steve is thinking about Eddie again.

Steve is late for dinner. He's probably so worried.

There's heavy footsteps in the hallway, shoes squeaking on the linoleum. The door flies open, and a head of curls stumbles into the room. Eddie’s eyes find Steve’s quickly, wild and full of fear and concern. He quickly crosses the room, pulling Steve into a tight hug. The room falls silent around them.

“Christ, Steve, I was so worried about you,” Eddie whispers, his voice tight like he's trying not to cry. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I'm okay, promise. Just a little banged up, that's all.”

Eddie sucks in a very shaky breath, not letting go of Steve. “You're not allowed to scare me like that anymore, asshole. I can't handle it.”

“I'll do my best. How'd you even know I was here?”

Eddie pulls back, his hands resting on the sides of Steve’s face. “The hospital called Wayne.”

The door opens again, and there's Wayne. Steve notes that he looks tired, but the older man smiles when his gaze lands on Steve.

“Glad to see you're still kickin’, kid,” he says, the worry washing away from his face.

“Sorry, Wayne, can't get rid of me that easy,” Steve says with a grin that pulls at his cuts and bruises. Wayne barks a laugh at that, shaking his head.

“What the hell is going on?” Dustin says, finally finding his voice.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he suddenly seems to realize they are not alone in the room. Steve grabs Eddie’s hand with a smile and gives it a squeeze. Then he clears his throat and looks at Dustin.

"Wayne is my emergency contact,” he explains. “Has been for a little while now. I've, uh… kinda been staying with them from time to time.”

Dustin frowns, his eyebrows knit together. “But… why?”

Steve glances at Eddie, squeezing his hand again. He takes a deep breath. It's now or never. “Eddie is… my boyfriend.”

It's the first time he's said the words out loud. It's the first time they put an actual label on what they are, what they truly mean to each other. They've been boyfriends for a little while now, but they never actually talked about it. There was always so much sneaking around and secrets and keeping it under wraps. They were both scared.

Not anymore.

Steve isn't scared to hide Eddie away from his friends, from his family. The people who truly matter. Not when Eddie has never been scared of hiding him from Wayne, his family. He's done being scared, because he knows there's so many scarier things out there. He knows that monsters are real, and he knows it'll take a lot more than a boyfriend to run off his monster hunting family.

So he smiles at Eddie, and he calls him boyfriend. Because that's what he is. He's Steve’s boyfriend, and he loves him.

He's done keeping that a secret from the people who have always had his back, despite what they've been through.

[aventurineswife]

hey so feel free to ignore this request if you're uncomfortable with it. Can i ask Kinich x suicidal reader? They're already dating and the reader confide in their true feelings about slowly losing the will to live because they feel like they cant handle life.

More explanation: i imagine the reader have a laid back, cheerful and out going personality, the reader joke about offing themself everyday intentionally so nobody will take them seriously if they ever for real tell them about it.

Also i kinda see Kinich as young adult(19/20) and i think the reader is also one who is struggling with adulthood(the reader's family used to spoil them)

Note: this is so self-indulgent, im so sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable😭 should've just talk to a therapist bot on c.ai or summ.(sorry if this triggers you☹️)

“If I Fall, Will You Catch Me?”

Summary: You and Kinich have been dating for some time, your contrasting personalities complementing one another. While you wear a mask of cheerfulness and make light of your struggles, you harbor a deep internal battle against feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness. One night, unable to maintain the facade any longer, you confide in Kinich about your true feelings.

Tags: Kinich x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Vulnerability, Found Family, Struggles of Adulthood, Fluff and Angst, Supportive Partner, Healing Through Understanding.

Warnings: Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts and Ideation, Themes of Emotional and Mental Health Struggles, Potential Triggers for Readers Sensitive to Discussions of Depression or Hopelessness, Includes moments of emotional distress but concludes on a hopeful note.

A/N: I'm really glad you felt comfortable sharing this, and I want to remind you that you're not alone in how you're feeling. Struggling with these emotions, especially when the world feels heavy, is so difficult, but it’s okay to reach out and talk about it when you're ready. You don’t need to carry everything by yourself. Life can be really overwhelming, and even though it can feel like you're stuck or that things won’t change, there is support available to help you work through it. It's okay to feel lost or unsure—what you're going through doesn’t make you any less valuable. Take care of yourself, and I hope you find the peace and healing you deserve. You are worthy of it! 🫂💖🫶

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the trees of the canopy. The air smelled of damp earth and the wild, untamed beauty of nature. You sat on the edge of a rock, watching the wind ruffle the leaves, your feet dangling over the edge.

Kinich sat next to you, his eyes scanning the surroundings with that focused, pragmatic gaze of his. He wasn't one for small talk, never had been, and you appreciated that. Silence between you felt like a comfortable thing, a space where words weren't always necessary. Still, you knew him well enough by now to sense when something was off.

You leaned back, stretching your legs, trying to distract yourself from the heaviness that had been creeping into your chest for weeks. Life felt like a mountain you could never quite scale, and no matter how many times you tried to climb, it always felt like it would swallow you whole.

"Hey," you said casually, as if this was just another joke, "maybe I should just go out and... off myself, y'know? Maybe then I'll find some peace."

You tried to make it sound light, as you always did, tossing the words out like they were nothing. It was the same joke you made every day, the one you used to hide the truth. But today, your smile felt forced, and you hated the way the words tasted in your mouth.

Kinich didn’t laugh. He never did when you said that.

You glanced over at him. His eyes were locked on you, unreadable yet piercing. He didn’t say anything at first, just let the silence drag on.

Finally, he exhaled deeply, his expression softening, but not in a way that was comforting. "You don’t get to joke about things like that with me," he said quietly, his voice steady, almost too calm. "Not anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat. He'd never said anything like that before. You turned to face him, your playful demeanor slipping away as you stared at him.

"Kinich, come on. You know it’s just a joke. I’m fine," you said, trying to backpedal, but the words didn’t sound convincing, even to you.

He didn't say anything, but his gaze hardened slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something deep in his eyes. Maybe it was concern, maybe it was frustration, but it was there. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the intensity of his presence filling the space between you.

"You think I don’t notice?" Kinich said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it held weight. "You laugh and joke, but I can see it. You’re not fine. I’ve seen the way you look at the world like it’s just... too much. Too heavy. Like you’re carrying something too big for your shoulders."

You stiffened, your throat tightening as the words he said felt like they were cutting straight through the walls you’d carefully built around yourself. You didn’t know how to respond.

"I’m... I’m just tired," you managed to say after a long moment. "Everything’s harder than it should be. It feels like I’m never going to figure it out. And... I don’t think I have the strength left to keep pretending."

Kinich didn’t look away. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like you were under a microscope. He didn’t need to speak to convey how much he understood.

"You’re not alone in this," he said softly, and for the first time, there was a tenderness to his words that made your heart ache. "You might feel like you’re alone, but you’re not. Not anymore."

The silence stretched between you two again, but this time, it felt less oppressive. Kinich’s presence beside you was comforting, even if you didn’t fully understand why. He wasn’t the kind of person who offered comforting words freely, but when he did, it always felt genuine.

"I don’t know what you’re going through," Kinich continued, his voice still steady. "But I know what it’s like to feel lost. To feel like you’ve got nothing left to give. To carry things you shouldn’t have to carry. I’ve been there."

You turned your gaze away from him, a lump forming in your throat. You hadn’t expected him to share anything about himself, and it made you realize just how much you didn’t know about him, despite everything.

"Kinich…" you started, but he held up a hand.

"I don’t want you to carry this by yourself," he said, his voice hardening slightly. "I’ll help you carry it. You don’t have to handle everything alone. Not anymore."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not in front of him.

"I’m scared, Kinich. I don’t know how to keep going when it all feels like it’s too much," you confessed, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to remain steady.

He didn’t hesitate. Kinich placed a hand on your shoulder, firm and unwavering, and his eyes softened just a little. "You don’t have to have all the answers. Just take it one step at a time. And if you fall, I’ll be here. You won’t have to do it alone."

You blinked, feeling the walls around your heart crack just a little, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. Kinich wasn’t here to fix you. He wasn’t offering grand solutions. He was simply offering to stand by your side, no matter what.

And for the first time in a long while, you believed him.

"Thank you," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. "I don’t deserve it."

He shook his head, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "Don’t talk like that. You’re not the only one who’s struggling. We all have our battles."

You nodded, trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you might be able to breathe again.

Kinich didn’t speak further. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough. And that, in itself, was a promise.

A promise that no matter how dark things got, no matter how heavy life seemed, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

You weren’t sure what the future would bring, or how you would handle everything, but you knew one thing for sure: Kinich would be by your side. And that, somehow, made everything a little easier to bear.

[blingblong55]

Perfectly symmetrical- Keegan P. Russ

Based on a request: Hiiii :D Idk if u do requests or whatever but can I please ask for Keegan comforting OCD reader? Preferably OCD related to needing things to be symmetrical? Also please tag me when it's out OK byeeeeeee :D ---- GN!Reader, fluff?, comfort, established!relationship ---- A/N: this is a really old request I just found...I also will only tag the person who request it because I dont know if anyone on my tag list wants to also read about ocd reader (I've been scolded once or twice by you<3)

The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the heater in the corner. Keegan sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his sharp gaze flicking between you and the coffee table. Your breathing was uneven, and your hands trembled as you adjusted the objects in front of you.

You shifted the coasters—two on the left, two on the right—aligning them meticulously. The edges still didn’t look right, gnawed at you like an itch you couldn’t reach. You frowned, pulling them a fraction closer to the centre of the table, trying to match their placement to the imaginary grid in your mind.

“It’s off,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone else.

“Looks fine to me,” Keegan said softly, but his voice carried no judgment. His tone was low, reassuring, like a ripple over still water.

“It’s not fine.” Your voice cracked, and you quickly set the coasters down, clenching your hands in frustration. “It’s wrong. It doesn’t feel… even. It’s all wrong.”

Keegan shifted, leaning back onto the couch. “Alright,” he said, stretching out a gloved hand. “Show me what you’re seeing. Maybe I can help.”

Your gaze flicked to him, your stomach twisting. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”

Keegan tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing slightly, but not in anger. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought that.”

His simple honesty made your chest ache. Taking a shaky breath, you pointed to the coffee table. “The left side looks heavier than the right. The coasters need to be perfectly symmetrical, or it… I don’t know, it just feels wrong. It’s like… like something bad will happen if it’s not fixed.”

Keegan nodded, his expression serious. “Alright. Let’s fix it, then.”

You blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted firmly. “You think I’m going to leave you to fight this alone?”

His words grounded you more than you expected. Together, the two of you adjusted the coasters. Keegan moved slowly and carefully, asking for your input each time he adjusted. When he saw the tension in your shoulders ease, he stopped.

“How’s that?” he asked, looking up at you.

You tilted your head, inspecting the layout. The relief hit you in waves, like a burden lifting from your chest. “It’s… perfect.”

Keegan leaned back, watching you with a small, satisfied smile. “Told you we’d get there.”

You sank onto the couch beside him, your hands finally still. Keegan reached out, tugging the blanket from the back of the couch and draping it over your legs.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

And for the first time that day, you did.

Tags: @genderfluodvoid

[loolilyumm]

I really like your interpretation of 3! Would be super excited to hear more about your 8 (or any other characters) :D

YAY THANKS FOR THE ASK!!! And I am so sorry about the late reply. I literally forgot I had this drafted 😭 I actually already rambled on about 8 a couple of posts ago - If you scroll down (or look for the agent 8 tag on my acc) you’ll find it! I think so much about her I hope you enjoy…!!!!!!! I’m so happy you like my little guys :))))))

AHEM Since you said..any other characters….I DO HAVE OTHER CHARACTERS!!!!! NOW I AM GOING TO YAP ABOUT MY AGENT 4!!!

THIS IS ELLIS! I actually love drawing him so much. I will admit that I have not thought too much about his backstory BUUTTT he makes up for it in personality!

Ellis was about 16 during splatoon 1, and he moved to the city for college when he was 18. Shortly after, he was recruited to the NSS by Marie. As of splatoon 3, he is 21 years old! He mains the Slosher Deco.

He is a freakishly tall lanky dude. He’s very book smart but acts goofy and stupid and snarky and lacks common sense. He’s a bit of a flirt and Marie acts like she can’t stand him. They tease each other a lot but they genuinely care for each other a LOT! But they’d never admit it!! Ew gross!!

He feels like a bit of a disappointment to his parents because he was supposed to be going to this fancy college in the city, but ended up leaving it and becoming an agent full time. PLUS he can’t tell them that he’s a secret agent saving the world, so they just think he works at a gas station or something 😭

Hero mode was a totally new experience for him. Marie never doubted him though. Now he’s an extremely talented agent. He’s really good at coming up with strategies and is extremely intelligent on the battlefield. He’s just so goofy that everyone forgets he’s actually smart.

In the beginning, he didn’t know who the squid sisters were at ALL because he basically lived under a rock until moving, and he was like, “pff, you can’t be that big of a deal.” LMAO.

He and Marie quickly became best frenemies. They often teased each other and had a lot of good banter and really good chemistry. Ellis developed a little crush on her but never thought it would be reciprocated!

One night, Ellis was injured on a mission. He is very deliberate about his missions, always having a plan - so he rarely gets injured.

When he came back, he saw a side of Marie that he’d never seen before. She was worried for him, helping him with his injury. The two of them realized that this was serious work. Ellis could have died. It also brought Marie to a realization. She really, really cared about agent 4. There was maybe a little crush starting to form…!!!

But the two of them STILL haven’t done anything about it. It’s been 3 YEARS. They are the definition of slow burn. Just because neither of them wants to admit that they like the other.

Near the end of splatoon 2 hero mode, Ellis became an agent full time and dedicated all his time to finding Callie. And they did!!!!! It was super awesome yay!!!!!

Currently, the NSS is bigger than ever before and they even made agent 3 the captain.

Ellis is still a goofball and loves to be silly with Callie and agent 8 (Olive.) Those two are like his sisters. The New agent 3 (Margot) is a little off putting but that doesn’t bother Ellis at all. Every once in a while, he works a salmon run shift with her, and it’s crazy how good she is.

Ellis understands that 3 and 8 went through a lot down in the metro and wants to do anything he can to help them free the sanitized octolings. (This is what led to him working on the memverse with Marina!) Sometimes the agents go down to the empty remains of Kamabo to see if they can find anyone. They are usually unsuccessful but it seems to clear 8’s conscience.

I still don’t really understand side order. Um. I kind of didn’t like how it was all virtual 😭 maybe I will make it a little different just for the sake of story. Idk yet. But yea!

That’s all I have on Ellis, he’s my boy! I think he’s my favorite to draw, and his design has been the only one not to undergo any change.

And that concludes my agent yap sessions! If you guys want to know anything about them (or send them asks or something) my askbox is always open! I love answering questions :) ((even if I am a little slow ahhhh sorry!!))

But yeah!! I’ll make official character sheets and stuff sometime soon :D thanks so much for sticking around if you made it this far!! 🫶🫶

[staryscorner]

Monster

Paring: In-ho x reader

You and In-ho have had a steady relationship. You both met at a bar and since that day he has shown you almost every side there is to him. He trusts you with every little secret of his, even how he is the “Frontman” of some sort of game. Although you don't know what type of game it is you just thought it was nothing to worry about. He's your finance. So one day he said that he was going on a work trip which he would take every once in a while. You never went to any of them since you knew it was work, but for some reason you felt like you needed to go this time.

“Hey honey, would you mind if I tag along to your work trip?”

“Um well i'm not sure dear you might get bored and want to go home” He said chuckling nervously. 

Now you definitely had to go! He never acted this weird about his work.

“Come on sweetheart it’s just a week right you always come back looking so happy I want to see what brings you so much joy.” you said pushing him to take 

“And since it’s work I can be there to cheer you on if you ever feel down you know? So that’s why you should bring me” feeling like this would make him bring you.

He did hesitate for a bit but he said you could come 

.

.

.

After packing and heading on a boat you were surprised that it was just you and him.

“Where’s everyone else?” 

“There already at the destination so no need to worry” He said grinning at you 

“But I do need to tell you something … Once we get on this island you might see me in a whole other way and I hope that you feel no different than you do now about me” In-ho said in a worried tone

You were confused but what could make you change the way you feel about him

After finally reaching the island he went to the back of the ship and took out an all black leather outfit and a black mask 

“What's with the outfit?”

He didn't say a word, he just continued to put it all on and he handed you a similar mask and outfit.

“Just follow me and don't speak to anyone once we get off”

He was almost like another person this couldn't be your In-ho he was never this cold to you, but you didn't ask since your head was spinning with questions

You entered from a pit in the mountains and had to do a lot of climbing but once you saw made it to the top it was dark lit room which looked luxurious but one he walked you to the main room your heart sank… there were people put in track suits with panicked expressions 

“In-ho WHAT IS GOING ON!” you yelled at him

“Calm down you haven't even seen what my job is” 

He got up and told the guards dressed in pink to escort the players to the first game. You just keep on thinking is this what he meant when he said game

Once everyone was escorted to what seemed to be a dry land with a robot girl, that's when the true horrors began. You saw the robot turn around and say “green light” maybe this might be nothing to worry about, it's just a kids game. Maybe his job was to entertain people. Then the robot said red light and once she turned around the people who were moving were shot and blood flew everywhere.

Now this was something that you could not unsee. You looked up to now see the man you had trusted he was smiling he looked like he could laugh any second 

“I'm leaving, I'm sorry but I can't be with you anymore after this. I know I said I wasn't going to see you differently but this was something I was expecting.

“NO WAIT YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME” He grabbed your arm aggressively and would let you go

“You know too much and I can't have you reporting this to the police just stay here and nothing will happen to you I swear” 

You were trembling “Im sorry but I just can't I swear I wont tell the police but please just let me leave” 

.

.

. 

He let go of your arm and you just ran leaving the same way you entered Once you made it out you felt a sharp and hot feeling coming from your chest as you looked down you saw blood which made you fall you turned around and saw him the man you once loved the one you thought you knew everything about … your future husband

He had tears in his eyes he tried not to look pathetic but he really was he loved you with all his heart and he had to now kill you just for a selfish reason of him not getting found out and he knew that you wouldn't say anything but he still had to do it 

“I will always love you” Those were your final words before you collapsed and had stopped breathing. He just came near you holding your cold body in his arms

Now he was truly a monster

A/n: OHH YEAAA ANOTHER ONE DONE ISTG LEE BYUNG HUN is just so FINEEEE LIKEEE!!!

I hope y'all enjoy this!!

[chaepu]

They Don't Know You Like I Do - Daniela Avanzini

pairing: daniela avanzini x reader tags: established relationship genre: fluff

The soft, late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of the quiet room, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. Y/N sat on the couch, fingers absently flipping through a book, though her mind was far from the pages. Across the room, Daniela leaned against the back of the armchair, her legs stretched out in front of her.

"Hey," Y/N said, glancing up from her book. "I was thinking about something."

Daniela raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What’s on your mind?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, collecting her thoughts before speaking. "I’ve been wondering… if someone were to say I wasn’t the right person for you, how would you defend me?"

Daniela’s expression softened, and she straightened up, her gaze never leaving Y/N. "That's a heavy question," she murmured, moving to sit beside Y/N on the couch. The distance between them closed in an instant, the warmth of her body a comforting presence.

"It’s just... I don't know. I guess, sometimes people have their opinions, and I’m curious how you’d handle that. If anyone ever tried to take me from you, how would you make sure they knew they were wrong?" Y/N’s voice was quiet, but there was a hint of vulnerability in her words.

Daniela smiled, her eyes full of affection. "Well, for one," she began, her voice steady and sure, "I’d tell them they don’t know you the way I do. They don’t see the way you light up the room when you laugh, how your kindness spreads without you even trying." She turned slightly toward Y/N, her hand brushing against Y/N’s in a soft, reassuring gesture. "I’d tell them about the way your heart is bigger than anyone I’ve ever met, and how I’m lucky to be a part of that."

Y/N felt a flutter in her chest at Daniela's words. It was the kind of compliment that made her feel seen, truly seen, in a way that no one else had ever made her feel. The quiet confidence in Daniela’s voice was enough to melt any lingering doubts in Y/N’s heart.

"And if that wasn’t enough?" Y/N asked, her voice playful now, but her eyes still full of curiosity. "What if they came back with something else? What if they said I was holding you back?"

Daniela leaned closer, her breath warm against Y/N’s cheek. "Then I’d laugh," she said softly. "Because anyone who says that clearly doesn’t know the first thing about us." She brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, her fingers lingering against her skin. "You’ve always made me want to be better, Y/N. You challenge me, you support me, and you love me in a way that no one else could. No one could ever hold me back the way they think you would."

A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine at Daniela’s words, a mix of warmth and emotion settling deep within her. She turned to face Daniela, her heart racing just a little. "I guess I never really thought about it that way," Y/N admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to make you happy."

Daniela’s eyes softened, her thumb gently brushing across Y/N’s hand. "And you do, Y/N. You do more than anyone could ask for. If anyone ever tried to take me away from you, I’d remind them that the only person who has the right to make that call is me." She smirked lightly, her eyes twinkling. "And trust me, no one’s taking me anywhere."

For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound being the quiet rhythm of their breathing. Y/N felt an overwhelming sense of peace settle over her, knowing that, no matter what the world thought, she and Daniela were in this together.

"Thanks, Dani," Y/N said after a beat, her voice thick with gratitude. "I think I needed to hear that."

Daniela gave her a small, tender smile, brushing her lips gently against Y/N’s forehead. "Anytime, mi amor."

[azriona]

Not a Fairy Tale Kiss, Chapter 39

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Avenger!OFC (2nd person POV)

This Chapter word count: 2.3k ~ Total Story count: 149k ~ This chapter is rated Mature. Chapters are posted on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and some Sundays.

Summary: When you and Bucky are both accidentally hit with sex pollen while on a mission, you're determined to keep your relationship status at friendship, even if you’d like it to be more. Even if you think he feels the same. Even if you accidentally end up pregnant. Even if it kills you.

(Spoiler Alert: it might actually kill you. Good luck with that.)

Trigger warnings include discussion of abortion, failed pregnancies, deaths of both mom & baby--not the MC! Full warnings on AO3. Happy ending is guaranteed, despite warnings. Please see AO3 for full A/N and tags.

Chapter Summary: In which you and Bucky finally have a long-awaited conversation… and Jarvis is the ultimate bro.

“Fuck,” says Bucky, more quietly now. “Bad enough you’re already living your nightmare, and I had to go and make it worse. Maybe you would be better off without me.” “No.” You open your eyes; he hasn’t moved, though his head turns down. You step away from the wall, so close you can feel the warmth from his body. “Don’t you even dare. And what do you mean, I’m living my nightmare?” “Darlin’. The witch literally gave you a nightmare about being pregnant.” “Oh for—” You bend down so you can get a better angle on his face. “Because I am pregnant, doofus. You leaving, that’s my nightmare.” He looks up, confused. “Me?” “Yes, you! You said you hated me, that you didn’t need me, that you didn’t want me—” “I never said—” “You did in my nightmare. And it was awful, okay? I died and the baby died and Steve kicked me off the team and Tony said I was worthless but the worst thing, the absolute worst thing was when you said how much you hated—” Bucky wraps his arms around you, tight, and you bury your nose in his chest. “Didn’t happen. Won’t ever happen.”

Read the rest of the suspiciously long elevator ride on AO3.

[rizaposting]

How exhausting and miserable would it be if every single fmab post I reblogged with some sort of passive aggressive tags about how terrible I thought it was or claimed it objectively was. All the posts made by people who clearly feel very strongly and positively towards it, directly beaming my compulsive negativity for Thing They Like straight into their activity feed. It'd be insufferable, right? It'd be upsetting. This is how it feels posting literally anything about fma03 and it's soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tiresome. You cannot post a single thing mentioning fma03 specifically and not get at least one or two people who think they absolutely need to tell me how bad it is actually, or inferior, or how they didn't even bother with it. Things that aren't even directly comparing 03 to mangaverse/fmab, people turn into a pissing contest for some reason. You came into MY house at 3am to complain to me that you don't like MY décor.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[mc-critical]

1.10 / 1.09

[blue-thief]

pls let me back into the friend group. i was barely a part of it the first time and i won't contribute anything if you let me back in. but i wanna know why the breakup between that one couple was so bad that the entire group is falling apart

[imavikingo]

There is something that I can’t understand and will never understand about fandom “culture”

Why EVERYTHING (or a lot of things) need to be canon or acknowledged by the actors/directors/producers to be accepted by the fandom? In specific ships?

And why when a “ship” (two characters, really) have more screentime than others/other characters aren’t in the picture anymore, people take that as a victory as see their ship as more valid and “actually canon”? And mock/harass others for it?

Also there is this thing people have been doing a lot too: Thats calling everyone that doesn’t like the ship you like names (and also calling them terms that before actually meant something awful but nowadays can be said for simply tagging the incorrect ship in a fucking post)

Canon isn’t always the norm here kid. At least when it relates to ships and scenarios. (Bc if we’re talking about characterization… yes it needs to be canon in a sense or we’re writing/making ocs out of canon characters)

Most of the more popular ships will never be canon and have never been, especially the gay ones. (See Drarry, Narusasu, Frodo/Sam, Johnlock, etc, etc)

So why suddenly we care so much about what NEEDS to be canon or not?

Why people NEED to see their ships be canon so badly?

Sure, I can be seen as a hypocrite because Ive been talking about Stucky a lot in the canon and what happened in EG, but they actually did that themselves. The directors talked about gay characters, the actors talked about Stucky. So actually it isn’t something ludicrous or anything. (I’ve never thought they would actually make the ship canon -bc that would be a big problem for them “how can you make Cap America gay!” And shit- but I thought they would at least make them still be friends or friendly or acknowledge the “bromance” and they just killed the friendship in one scene with the most ooc shit ever). In fact, I’m more annoyed by that. They assassinated Steve’s character and Bucky’s progress.

Nevermind…

Why people fight so much about ships and use terms that shouldn’t be brought into stupid shit like this?

Fandoms are supposed to be fun and to have discussions (in good faith) about the canon. What we like and what we don’t like about it.

Besides, a lot of current media are about stuff that’s been remade over and over again. So they have a lot of adaptations and you can pick and choose too, if you want.

And if you don’t like the canon? Easy! Do analysis, criticize it, write fics, do fanart, do creative shit or simply ignore it! No one is forcing you to keep on watching the show or the stuff you now hate/cant stand. That’s what Im doing at least.

Sure, I criticize some people and movies a lot and get actually annoyed by the disrespect towards/assassination of some characters, but at the end of the day I can only shrug and say “it is what it is” and leave it at that. (Meaning not giving them money for the new stuff/not watching nor caring about it and only acknowledging the old things I actually care about and like)

But I don’t insult or disrespect other people in fandom because of it. And also I don’t harass the directors or actors either, ffs.

Idk, Ive always been on the sidelines of the stuff I follow, I’ve never been on the thick of fandoms so maybe thats why I don’t understand.

And I’ve also not seen so many crazy shit (the most crazy stuff Ive seen is people calling others racists for tagging a ship incorrectly and also others inflating the tag of a ship in ao3 so their ship would be “the most popular” with most fics, in that fandom) because I actually curate what I see. I don’t like a ship? I mute, if I can’t stand a person or a ship? I block em. Simple and easy.

I’ve always drawn stuff for myself, read fics and made headcanons. Only recently I’ve been sharing stuff more openly, so maybe it’s that.

Idk.

I’m just tired of seeing discourse and people fighting over this stuff.

[an-urgent-appeal]

monitoring by deco*27 could be a soldierspy song if you just give me 12 hours and 5 cans of monster to explain

[britneyshakespeare]

you know who was the biggest clown of the season in bb25... me. because on premiere night when watching the first nomination comps i told my sister i thought l*ke was cute & i was hoping cory would lose and get eliminated.