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theoldsports · 10 months ago

Text

SOLUTION.

Art Donaldson x Reader | 5k words

SORRY SERIES LINK.

warnings: pregnancy, implied discussion of abortion, a boy groveling on his knees for his family, there’s a dog (a real one, not just Art), talk about Art’s forced weird athletic borderline disordered eating.

okay, i lied last time. THIS is my best work. this is very out of my brain and i hope you love it. holy shit.

Have you ever sat and listened to a leaky faucet? I mean, really listened?

Steady. Like a heartbeat, if you think about it.

Sometimes, though, if the leak is slow enough, it’s more like the kind of heart rate that sends the nurse with the crash-cart sweeping into the room to shock you out of an AFIB pattern. Or however that worked.

[Y/N] was listening to it. The dripping. The kitchen sink. It hadn’t stopped for days. When it began, it was steady. Now, it was irregular. It started the day Art left

Art had been away at an early season tournament. [Y/N] had an impossible work week, so Art had told her he was happy to go for the better part of the week on his own. They both knew Art really did hate to be alone in situations like that. He had always had one of his people there. His mom, Patrick, [Y/N]; one of them was in his corner at these things. This time, he was truly on his own. Art could not stand to travel alone. He had his team of physios and coaches, but not his family. [Y/N] was going to swing by and surprise him at the end, but her boss had leaned into her for trying to take more days off during release season for the big summer blockbusters. Plus, someone did have to watch the dog.

This context about Art’s being away is important. It’s not that Art was the epitome of a handyman, but he really liked to feel like he was contributing to their home’s ecosystem when a lightbulb went out or a switch needed replacing. The man was incredible with the small things. Yet, [Y/N] sat at the kitchen table with a frown on her face, trying to rough in an outline for an article. With the faucet dripping. If Art were there, or if she was with Art three states over, the faucet wouldn’t be dripping against the porcelain basin.

It wasn’t like the wifi signal was strong enough anywhere else on the property for her to up and move either.

drip drip drip. Said the faucet.

[Y/N] was damn near the point where she was going to run upstairs to the bedroom and get the baseball bat Art kept with the express purpose of running down the stairs in his briefs and cracking up on possible intruders. All she could think about was bringing the wood down against the glass and cheap metal on her kitchen counter.

A new house would have a working sink and a bathroom counter that wasn’t too small and a halfway decent wifi signal.

Instead, [Y/N] set her face down upon the cool blue faux granite countertop. The temperature helped ease the feeling of the hyperbolic corkscrew being driven between her eyes. The dripping kept dripping and [Y/N] wanted to cry.

This agony wasn’t all the sink’s fault, though.

[Y/N] saw on the tennis channel before she even got a call from Art that he’d won that weekend. He still hadn’t called. The lack of a call from made her feel ashamed. Not a soul there to celebrate the success with him. She felt an immense sense of guilt slide across her skin because she wasn’t there to witness that smile he got when he won. Sweaty and angry, but relieved every time. He still got that look when he won. Art was a machine on the court, and a competitor not worth counting out at this point in his career. He still looked surprised and delighted every time he, of all people, hit the winner. [Y/N] loved that look. Art loved how she would celebrate with him after a win, too.

[Y/N] prayed Art made his flight without delay that evening. Selfishly, because she wanted her boy back. Also because Art was mortally terrified of airplanes. Planes made him feel out of control due to lack of trust with the pilot. Without that phone call from him, [Y/N] was scared knowing he was out on his own and that he likely felt anxious enough to give a horse a heart attack. She would have no way of knowing if something had happened between the match end and now.

She did know that the sink was leaking.

She also knew her period was two weeks late.

That, Art couldn’t fix on his own. In fact, it was fairly obvious that the delay was more or less Art’s fault.

[Y/N] hadn’t yet taken a pregnancy test at that time. If she took the time to take one, it would make everything the obvious answer a reality she would have to deal with. She had scares before. Ones that she had never, and would never, tell Art about. She would wait for her delayed—not missed!—period and everything would be fine. Like the other times. It had to be fine.

She checked her phone. It was a blue slidephone with small rhinestone stickers she had applied to the back. Still nothing from Art. He said he would call first right after the match, but he still hadn’t actually called, so maybe it was time to call first. It had been hours since he said he’d ring up. It wasn’t a major concern that Art would blow her off. Ideas of danger and uncertainties flooded her head.

“I’m the one that wants marriage so bad. Not Artie. What if he says no? Or not now…?”

[Y/N] sat on the beach with her back against Patrick’s shins. Art and [Y/N] were completing their first year completely post college. [Y/N] and Patrick were twenty-four and Art was almost twenty-four. His November birthday set him behind.

Patrick’s hands were on her shoulders and his body in a beach chair behind her while they both stared off over ocean as the sun set. “You’re actually stupid if you think he’ll deny you, [Y/N].”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to step on his game, or whatever. The guy is supposed to ask. Isn’t this going to be… emasculating or something?”

“Emasculating for Art? For pretty baby? Yeah, okay,” Patrick teased. [Y/N] threw a fistful of sand at him. “Christ, okay, okay. Cool it.” He spit.

Art had run back up toward to hotel to grab his water bottle, while Patrick and [Y/N] stayed at the dunes. [Y/N] wanted to propose to Art by trip’s end. She thought it would be sweet. Art was extremely forward when it came to her her, but he hadn’t been forward about the whole proposal business. He seemed scared about marriage. [Y/N]he would do it herself.

She was grateful for the time alone with her best friend too. Sitting and doing nothing, or partying. Either was more than welcome. “He’s not going to say no,” Patrick continued. His mouth casually leaned close to her ear. “Because it’s insane how whipped you’ve got him.”

“Don’t say that—“

“He wants to have your babies. Ask him. Trust me, he’ll say yes and he will be all the hell over you.” His fingers worked into [Y/N]’s shoulders, feeling the tension there. He took his hands off of her when Art came running down the beach.

[Y/N] heard a click in the lock. Her head flopped to the left, still pressed against the counter, to glance at the door. Her heart rate increased. She was so tired and the speed of the situation so fast, that she didn’t both moving or attempting to defend herself.

Most fortunately, when the door swung open, it was her Art. The sun was going down behind him. He looked a bit ragged and had a racket bag over one shoulder and two duffels in the other hand. She sat upright sharply on the kitchen barstool. “Pretty baby!”

All Art’s gear hit the floor. The door was left open behind him (taking a big chance that their Labrador mix, Cheese, didn’t run down the stairs and bolt out and away). Art walked toward [Y/N], arms extending. His strong arms pulled [Y/N] in close to his chest. She rested her head against his soft gray t-shirt. Her own arms embraced him back and one of her hands tucked comfortably into the back pocket of his jeans. “[Y/N]… I missed you.” Art said into her hair.

“I missed you… I-I… You didn’t call. How did you get here—“

“Final match actually started on time, so I gambled on moving my flight to the earlier one. I didn’t have time to call if I was taking the early one. I should’ve texted. I got nervous with the-the flight. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”

[Y/N] leaned back to look at him. There was no more welcome sight in the world than Art Donaldson. Irish genetics saw to it that Art was freckled from the spring sun. With shaggy hair boyishly covered by a baseball cap tipping back dangerously, he practically glowed. Even though he looked like shit. His sunglasses were hanging on his shirt. [Y/N/] tilted her head up, signaling for a kiss. Hungrily, Art leaned forward to take as many kisses as he wanted. His lips tasted like spearmint gum. Like always.

Cheese did run downstairs when Art’s hand climbed up the side of [Y/N]’s throat and when her own hand started to squeeze from under the fabric of Art’s back left pants pocket. Art had to pull regretfully away to grab Cheese by the collar and shut the front door.

Delightedly, Art did gteet Cheese with ear-scratches and a belly rub. Art received the customary licks and a tailwags in return. Cheese was always pretty down when the whole family wasn’t together. He walked and played a bit, but when his dad wasn’t around, Cheese kind of deflated. He had spent most of the time laying flat on Art’s side of the bed. It was obvious the dog was grieving the disappearance of his boy.

When Art bent down to pat his beloved Cheese, [Y/N] stood from her chair and bent at the waist. She pulled Art’s hat off and set it on the counter. Gently, she kissed Art on top of the head. With a scratch not unlike the ones he gave to the canine to the back of Art’s neck, the man looked up at her from the ground with a half-smile.

“Congrats, baby,” [Y/N] said. Art cut his eyes curiously from her to the tennis channel on the TV playing in the next room. That had him realizing where she would have gotten the information of his win from so efficiently. “How was the tournament? I’m sorry I couldn’t—“

“Sure, sure, but I bet Cheese here is pretty glad you were home,” Art said and stood up with one final pat to Cheese’s flank. “The whole thing was great. I… I’m kind of surprised I won, if I’m being honest.” Art said, wrapping an arm around [Y/N]’s waist.

Naturally, her hands flattened against his toned chest when he tugged her towards him. “I’m not. You’re fucking good at tennis, Art.”

His ears reddened in embarrassment as he tucked his face into [Y/N]’s neck to hide his face. Art was used to praise and loved it more than anything, no matter where it came from. Every compliment from [Y/N] was worth a hell of a lot more. Art hated thinking about why that was the case. He knew why, though. She had seen he and Patrick play and even then thought Art was good. Art still won the match when it came to [Y/N] and he would never tell her that.

“Hush…” He mumbled into her neck, planting a biting, teasing kiss there. She laughed. He laughed. “I played against an eighteen year old kid yesterday. He played really well,” Art leaned back to look at her again. “You saw, I’m sure,” he indicated the TV with a nod. “He would’ve won this weekend if I hadn’t won that match. Just… I’m twenty-six. Made me feel old.”

“…Glad you won, then.”

“I said if I hadn’t…”

“Well, if you’re sooooo down on your win then congrats on flying home all by yourself like a big boy.” [Y/N] smirked.

“Oh, you’re gonna be like that, huh?” Art withdrew his hands from his wife’s body and put them teasingly on his own hips.

[Y/N] nodded. “Yeah. If you’re old, imagine how I feel.”

“Ancient, probably.”

Art leaned in for another kiss. She pushed him back playfully. “No! You called me old!” [Y/N] laughed.

She leaned one way, then the other to avoid Art’s beautifully wrinkled nose and smiling mouth. “Please? I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’re-you’re not old!” Art said and attempted to trap her with his arms and give her a kiss.

[Y/N] turned hard over her shoulder and ran up the stairs. Cheese gave a woof from the couch when Art chased after her. Art spent his life chasing after her.

“No! You can’t kiss me! Doghouse! Bad Art! Bad!” [Y/N] accused jokingly. Art jumped up the stairs. He took them two and three at a time.

Art backed her against the bathroom door. Nowhere left to run. His rough hands settled on her hips. “Gotcha. You’re pretty fast for an old lady, y’know. Late for bingo, or—“ Art smirked when he leaned in to kiss her.

[Y/N] shut him up with a kiss. She had missed his stupid boy babbling. His mouth was soft against hers. Art put one of his hands on the wooden door beside her face to hold himself up. The other hand found her belt loop, keeping her body close to his.

“I love you,” Art whispered between kisses. “I love you so much, honey. I missed you.”

[Y/N]’s head leaned back against the door with a soft thud. Her breath caught in her throat. “I love you t—mmh!” Art leaned in for another kiss.

The joy of being Art Donaldson’s wife was that he never got tired of touching her, or being physically close. Sometimes, [Y/N] would look over at him while she was writing, or making dinner, and he would be staring, or slowly extending his hand to her and seeing how long it took for [Y/N] to acknowledge his presence. It never ceased to make her feel beautiful. “Can we…” his fingers danced over the button on her jeans.

“Can we what…?” She asked coyly.

Art blushed, but smirked and lowered his lips by [Y/N] ear. “Can we fuck? Please?” He asked too politely for as dirty as those words were. Like the good midwestern boy that he was.

She tipped her head back further. Art kissed her neck with all the energy he could muster. “Can I not make you dinner first? You-you a cheap whore as well as old now, too?” [Y/N] jeered. Art snorted a laugh. The warm air from the giggle spread over [Y/N]’s skin, causing goosebumps to raise. “I’m never letting you leave home alone again, then.”

Art nodded against her skin, sucking and licking a spot they both new would bruise dark. The sound she let out was absolutely disgusting and Art loved it. “I would prefer to never be let out of your sight, personally.” He said when he pulled away.

“Come on, house boy… We’re havin’ dinner. And you’re gonna eat some bread,” [Y/N] said, pointing a finger at Art’s chest. He started to put up a fight about the ultra-low nonexistent amount of inactive carbs he was eating during the season, but [Y/N] kept chattering. “Stop talking. Your brain doesn’t work right without carbs. Braindead. Come on, dinner.”

“You’re bad for me.”

“I know.” [Y/N] smiled.

Normally, [Y/N] drank a cup of coffee when the pair made dinner. Art knew the pattern. He made her the cup of coffee every time. It sat mostly unfinished that night, though. She found herself heating and reheating it in the microwave as they cooked. She started to space out as he recapped the tournament in full detail, as she requested. If Art noticed, he didn’t let on. [Y/N] noticed, though. Little stood between her and coffee. She didn’t want to drink it. That was violently unusual.

“Hey, I’m gonna go piss. Can you—“

“Watch the sauce?” Art asked, indicating the creamy pesto she had on the stove while Art cleaned and cut vegetables.

“Mhm.” [Y/N] confirmed. Art slid over to take the spoon from her. He placed a hand at the bottom of her back as she walked away. Art fit perfectly into her life. It wasn’t fair how right he was for her.

She went to the upstairs bathroom instead of the downstairs one. She hoped that didn’t set off Art’s sixth sense about the way-things-had-to-be. Once upstairs, [Y/N] wasted no time yanking open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. It was overflowing, naturally. Makeup, supplements, condoms, hair ties, pill bottles, loose painkillers. It was a disaster. There was also a pregnancy test.

A laughing Art had given it to [Y/N] as a joke the morning after their wedding night and she had hit him hard enough to bruise across the chest. The test sat wrapped and in the box behind the mirror every day since. Just in case.

[Y/N] had officially arrived at just in case.

She gingerly tossed the empty box under the sink so Art wouldn’t see it without looking for it. Then, [Y/N] undid the buttons on her overalls and, well, took the test.

Lacking the time to sit and watch it come back positive or negative, [Y/N] tossed the clean cap on the stick, slid it into the pocket of her overalls, washed her hands and went downstairs like nothing was wrong.

Except she knew something was wrong. Now she felt like she had a loaded gun in her pocket. She was too cautious with her movements due to the fear that the test would slip out of her front right pocket in front of Art.

She was damn near about to step into the pantry and shut the door just to see if the pee stick had one line or two. If he wasn’t already suspicious, that would do it. [Y/N] felt that the anxiety created was easily the worst anxiety she had ever had. Oops.

[Y/N] got quiet. She was talking less and listening more. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but she was a chatterbox. Art would notice her blanched face and wrinkled brow eventually, she worried.

Ever the perceptive bastard, Art did. When he sat beside [Y/N] at the counter to eat a bowl of pasta with more inactive carbs than he had eaten in six months, he kept cutting his eyes at her. His bare foot nudged her ankle. Her dish was relatively untouched. “You good, babe? You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird.”

“You are being weird because you’re not being you. I’ve barely asked you how you’re doing with all the excitement. Long day?” Art asked, setting down his fork to drag his hand across the back of her shoulders.

“Yeah, a bit.” [Y/N] said. What she meant to say was I have a pregnancy test and I bet it is positive in my pocket right now and I’m so terrified that I can practically smell my pit stains right now, baby. But she didn’t say that.

Art spun to face her, taking in her expression and demeanor. There was that contemplative knot perched between his eyebrows. The back of his hand landed calmly on [Y/N]’s forehead to check her temperature. “Art…” [Y/N] said, pushing his hand down.

“No, hang on.” Art said firmly. He tried to put his hand back on her face. Instead, not having a clue what it said, [Y/N] reached into her front right pocket and slammed the pregnancy test down between them. Art retracted his hand and flinched back a bit at the sudden movement. The test was face down on the counter.

Art’s eyes cut from the test back to her. His face was suddenly very solemn. “Are you—“

“—I dunno. I didn’t-I couldn’t look. It’s been in my pocket for twenty minutes. No idea.”

“Do you think you are?”

[Y/N] shrugged and looked at her bowl. It looked too green. sick sick sick. drip drip drip said the faucet.

“Do you want to know if you are?” Art asked wide-eyed. “I want to know, personally. Do… Do you?”

Again, [Y/N] shrugged. “If we don’t look, it’s not real.”

“…That’s stupid.” Art shook his head.

“You’re stupid.”

Art sighed. “I’m gonna look. I mean, I’m going to turn it over,” his eyes frantically reached for [Y/N]’s. He grabbed her hand with his to get her attention. “I’m going to look. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah.” She whispered and it was okay.

And she was pregnant.

Two blue lines stared at them.

“Fuck.” [Y/N] said. She felt both elated and humiliated. She wanted so badly to be a mother. She wanted to cry. How could they keep it? The timing was wrong. She hadn’t agreed to this. The two of them had so many fights about it. She barely understood how this happened. She thought they were being so careful. It didn’t make any sense. Every precaution she could think of had been taken at one point or another.

And the fucking faucet was still dripping. She could hear it. drip drip drip. Over and over.

“Fuck.” She said sliding out of her chair and standing unsteadily. That wasn’t the result one should feel when they get something they have spent so long wanting.

Art ran his hands through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be smiling when she looked so worried. His face betrayed the wide smile he hoped to hide. That’s exactly what he wanted to see. Fuck.

“Honey… Hey, hey. You’re okay. This is awesome. C’mere.” Art said like he was diffusing a bomb. His arm were wide open to hold her.

“Art…”

“No, uh-uh. Just come here. Please.”

Cautiously, [Y/N] made her way into her favorite pair of arms in the world. “It’s not supposed to be like this.” [Y/N] choked out as Art held her.

“Shh, I know, I know,” Art said calmly. His left hand’s fingers brushed her hair away from her face. “But that’s how it is now. We have to accept that and solve for the next move, right?” It was silent for a while after that. [Y/N]’s arms were tightly wrapped around Art’s shoulders and their bowls of pasta were certainly cold. She felt that she had ruined everything.

She glanced at Art’s face. The small smile betrayed him. “Art… We can’t. Not now.” she had told Art not now so many times that it felt forced and rehearsed. Now that [Y/N] that was actually pregnant, she wanted nothing more than to stay pregnant. The timing was far from good. She had articles that were still very due the next day. She had a husband who very much traveled often for work (who she traveled with too). She had Cheese, who was staring at her weird over the back the couch because he didn’t understand crying.

“What do you mean we can’t?” Art said quietly. “We-We can. We… have. We are… Actively.” He fumbled.

“We can. We did! But… You know now’s not a good time, baby.” [Y/N] countered weakly.

Art’s hands never left [Y/N]’s waist. “Let’s run pros and cons.”

“Pretty baby.” She said accusatorially. Good old analytic Art…

“Let’s run pros and cons.” Art repeated unflinchingly. He sprang up off of his barstool to gather a sharpie and a legal pad from some drawer. Art uncapped the marker harshly with his teeth. Cap between his teeth still, he asked: “Do you want it?” while he found a clean, smooth page.

Before she could respond with her head, [Y/N] responded with her heart. She nodded a yes to him immediately. “Do you?”

Art capped the back end of the marker to free up his mouth. “More than anything ever, I think. It would probably kill me a little bit, actually, if… Yeah. I understand and it’s all up to you, honey, but… Yeah.” His hand created a PRO column and a CON column on the page.

Under PRO, Art added the items he knew would cause no trouble in his blocky capitalized handwriting:

FINALLY START FAMILY

NATURAL/EASY START

SEASON ALMOST OVER

[Y/N] HAS FLEXIBLE HRS

DREAM COME TRUE??

WILL BE GR8 PARENTS

[Y/N] nodded in approval. She couldn’t think of more pros, but Art handed her the marker and she started in on the CON list:

OLYMPICS??

ART’S NEVER HOME

EXPENSIVE

SMOKING/COFFEE

CHEESE JEALOUS?

TOO YOUNG!

Art drew the line at giving up stimulants and assigning the dog human traits and struck both of those off the list with a frown.

Frankly, Art thought the cons list turned out rude.

“I haven’t qualified for the Olympics yet,” he protested. “And if I do, imagine how early on that would be. Before all the hard stuff.”

[Y/N] replied with the thing they both knew was the most real problem. She had waited forever to say it out loud. “No offense… You are never home anymore. You’re busy all the time. Which I get. It’s your job. You’re good at your job. But look how excited the fuckin’ dog got to see you because you were gone so long. You are never here. We can’t put a human in doggy day camp all the time. It would be fucking impossible to raise—“

“I’ll quit,” Art said, wincing. He wouldn’t. [Y/N] felt that this was a bluff. He tried in vain to hide his expression of shame. “I’ll quit tennis.” He said. He wasn’t going to.

“That would worsen the problem. No money.”

“I’ll work at the 7/11. I’ll be a construction worker. I could be a fuckin’ coach. I actually have a degree, y’know, I can use it. I’m more than a racket. I don’t want you to feel alone here. I want to be here for all of it, I can—“

“You know I’m alone here a lot, babe. A lot. You don’t… You’re in a position where you’re unable to help constantly. Because you’re gone. That’s okay. I married you knowing that, right? But a baby, Art? That’s not fair.”

“I’ll bail on a season. I will. I just…” Art stared at her. “Please. I’m begging you. See this kid through with me.”

The sharpie was forgotten on the counter along with dinner. Art’s knees landed on the floor before [Y/N]. Art practically lived on his knees in front of [Y/N]. He gathered [Y/N] hands in his. “Please. It’s your call, but hear me out. Because that thing is part of both us. I don’t want you to hate or resent me or the little stinker forever, but you want it. I know that. Hear me out.” His beautiful two-tone eyes stared up at her.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“I will give you anything. Please, my world is you. Not tennis; you. I’m telling you, I-I would leave that behind to be anything you need right now. Just ask it. You’re my fucking priority, you got that? I just.. I… Please? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to keep it too, but—“

“Then what’s the big deal?” Art asked hopefully.

“It isn’t a good time. It’s too soon.”

Art’s mouth trailed kisses across his wife’s stomach and hips and hands and arms. He let this go on for several minutes. “Please,” Art whimpered pathetically into the skin of her wrist. “Please, please, please. I will do anything, my love. I’m on my knees here,” Art looked up at her through thick lashes. “We can do this. Both of us together. I’ll do whatever you want. You know I will. This can be good for us. I’m really sorry we’re here, but here we are, hon. What time’s going to be the right time? Please. I love you.” Art pleaded desperately.

[Y/N] knew this was going to be a disaster. But she wanted to keep it. What time’s going to be the right time? rung in her ears over and over, like the faucet. They had put so much time into arguing about the time and the place that would be right for a family. Now it was right in front of them. Her hand caressed Art’s face. She loved it when he groveled like that. This time, on his knees and everything. On instinct, he nuzzled his face into her hand and looked up at her through long lashes.

“Will you fix the faucet? It’s been dripping all week.”

“Anything.”

“I’ll… I’ll think about it. I’m going to think about it. The baby.”

“You will?” Art’s teary eyes widened.

“Objectively, this is a terrible fucking idea. We both know that. But if it’s really so terrible, why do I feel, like… happy about it…”

Art’s face lit up. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no either. [Y/N], honestly, found it very hard to say no to Art. His arms wrapped carefully around her thighs while his head rested against her middle as he knelt. [Y/N] could feel his silver ring through the denim of her overalls. “God, I love you. I love you, [Y/N]. We’re not going to regret this. Holy shit…”

“Love you too. We’re gonna… We’re gonna try, maybe? This doesn’t feel real. Does this feel real? I…”

“It feels like a dream is what it feels like,” Art mumbled into her clothes. “I love you.” Art said, pressing a kiss to her stomach.

“I love you.”

“I’m gonna be a dad…” Art almost wept. “If you, y’know, but… Shit. I’m sorry.” Which part he was apologizing for was unclear.

At that, [Y/N] laughed and tangled her fingers in his curly blonde mop of hair. “Yeah, you’re gonna be a fucking dad, pretty baby.” She smiled.

[Y/N]’s next instinct was to say: I have to call Patrick. Then she remembered couldn’t call Patrick.

TAGLIST (ask to join):

@diorrfairy @donaldsonsdarling @muthafuckingstargirl @shysstuff @soberbabes @avylanchce

apologies for tag issues. i’ll dm those it didn’t work for!

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #challengers movie #challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #sorry series #father art

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princesseilish · 13 days ago

Note

Heyy babyy, been missing u and I have a request that i've been thinking about actually and you're the only person that came to mind. (Always thinkin about u)

Probably Billie saying goodbye for the tour and reassuring her daughter or probably y/n leaving to run some errands and having Billie all the responsibility with the two kids.

You choose cause I can't make up my mind actually :/

(imissyousomuch and iloveyouwifey💋)

LULLABY

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: crying, fluff, no use of cursing, that’s it? i think?

Synopsis: Billie is leaving for her first show, for tour, and she has never been away from her daughter for that long

A/N: Hii my love, i miss you too, like more than you’ll ever know

The night before Billie left for her Hit Me Hard and Soft tour, Rosie was inconsolable. The little girl, usually so full of energy and speaking in hyperbole, was now a sobbing mess, clinging to Billie like her life depended on it.

“Mommy, don’t go,” she hiccupped, her tiny hands gripping Billie’s hoodie, refusing to let go.

Billie, sitting on the edge of their bed with Rosie in her lap, sighed softly and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Bug, you know I have to, but I promise I’ll call you all the time, okay? And I’ll be home before you even know it.”

Rosie wasn’t convinced. Her big brown eyes, already puffy from crying, welled up again as she buried her face into Billie’s chest. “But—but what if I miss you too much?”

Y/n, sitting beside them, gently rubbed Rosie’s back. “You’re gonna miss Mommy, and that’s okay, baby. But I’ll be here, and we’ll do fun things while she’s away. And she will call us every day.”

Rosie sniffled. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Y/n and Billie shared a look. It had been a while since Rosie crawled into their bed—she was getting older, becoming more independent. But tonight? Tonight, she needed them.

“Of course, bug,” Billie murmured, lifting Rosie up and laying her between them.

That night, Billie softly hummed a lullaby, just like she had since Rosie was a baby. It was second nature at this point—the soft, familiar tune drifting through the dark room, soothing her little girl into sleep. Y/n watched as Rosie finally calmed, her little hands tucked under Billie’s hoodie.

But now, Billie was gone. She had already played a few shows, and it had been two weeks since she left for Québec. And ever since then, Rosie had been… off.

At first, y/n thought it was just normal separation sadness. But then she started noticing the signs—Rosie was restless, struggling to fall asleep, waking up in the middle of the night and wandering into y/n’s room with tired, teary eyes.

And then, one night, when y/n walked by Rosie’s room, she found her daughter curled up in bed, her little lip trembling, eyes squeezed shut.

“Baby?” y/n whispered, kneeling beside the bed.

Rosie peeked one eye open, barely holding back her tears.

“What’s wrong, lovebug?”

Rosie hesitated before whispering, “I can’t sleep, Mommy. I can’t… without Mommy’s song.”

And that’s when it hit y/n—Billie’s lullaby. It had been part of Rosie’s nighttime routine for years, and now, without it, she couldn’t settle.

Y/n felt a pang of guilt. She hadn’t realized how much Rosie needed it.

She sat on the bed, brushing Rosie’s curls back. “Baby… why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Rosie’s tiny hands played with the edge of her blanket. “Didn’t wanna make you sad.”

Y/n’s heart broke.

“Oh, my love,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “she would never want you to go without your lullaby, okay?”

Rosie sniffled. “But she’s busy.”

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her phone and quickly dialed Billie, praying she wasn’t too caught up in something.

It only rang twice before Billie’s tired but warm voice came through.

“Hey, baby.”

Y/n sighed in relief. “Hey, love. Are you busy?”

“Not really, just chilling after soundcheck. Everything okay?”

Y/n turned to Rosie, who was already scooting closer to the phone. “Bug, someone wants to talk to you.”

Rosie hesitated before whispering, “Mommy?”

Billie’s voice immediately softened. “Hi, bug.”

And just like that, the dam broke. Rosie’s little lip quivered as she curled into y/n’s lap, gripping the phone with her small hands.

“I miss you,” she whimpered.

Billie let out a soft breath. “Oh, baby, I miss you so much too.”

Rosie sniffled. “I can’t sleep.”

Y/n heard Billie shift on the other end, as if sitting up straighter. “You can’t?”

Rosie shook her head before realizing Billie couldn’t see her. “No. I need Mommy’s song.”

There was a brief pause, then Billie’s voice came through, gentle and soothing.

“You want me to sing it for you, bug?”

“Please,” Rosie whispered.

And without hesitation, Billie started humming the lullaby. The same tune she had sung to Rosie since she was a baby.

Y/n watched as Rosie’s body slowly relaxed, her tiny fingers loosening their grip on the phone. Her breathing evened out, her eyelashes fluttering as sleep finally took over.

Billie kept humming, even after Rosie had drifted off completely.

Y/n brought the phone back to her ear, keeping her voice low. “Thank you, baby.”

Billie sighed. “I hate being away from her.”

“I know,” y/n whispered. “She loves you so much.”

Billie was quiet for a moment before she said, “I’ll record it. The lullaby. So if she needs it again, she won’t have to wait for me.”

Y/n smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. “She’d love that.”

They stayed on the phone for a little while longer, Billie listening to Rosie’s soft, steady breathing.

And even though she was miles away, in a different city, in a different time zone—Billie was still right there where she belonged.

#princess diary ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚#wlw #wlw fiction #wlw post #billie eilish #lesbian #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x reader #hmhas billie eilish #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish fic #billie x reader #billie eilish x female reader

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taylorswift-edit · 9 months ago

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"This is a song that I think really exhibits a lot of the common themes that run throughout this album, one of which being fatalism, longing, pining away, lost dreams. I think that it's a very fatalistic album in that there are lots of very dramatic lines about, you know, life or death, "I love you, it's ruining my life," these are very hyperbolic, dramatic things to say. But it's that kind of album. It's about a dramatic, artistic, tragic kind of take on love and loss. And Fortnight, I've always imagined that it took place in this American town where the American Dream you thought would happen to you didn't, right? You ended up not with the person that you loved, and now you have to just live with that every day, wondering what would've been, maybe seeing them out, and that's a pretty tragic concept, really. So I was just writing from that perspective."

#taylor swift #tswiftedit #userreh #useranak #taylorswiftedit #celebedit #luna

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dysthoepiadaily · 7 months ago

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I saw this take the other day on twitter, and it made me kind of annoyed bc... way to miss the point, and to show that Dan was right and that it was too niche for you, LOL.

People do like Dan because of his authenticity and wit, but also... it's not that simple. Dystopia Daily, in many ways, was extremely authentic in the emotion it was trying to convey.

I think dystopia daily was more of a commentary on just youtuber culture in general, the desperate need for youtubers to remain popular at around a time when they were losing relevance. This led to a lot of them desperately collabing with one another, "exposing" more and more of their private lives in hopes that the more they give to the camera, to the audience, the audience won't abandon them (Dan and Phil finally tell the truth, Dan's grandma explains the internet).

There's a sort of "giving the people what they want" aspect to it, as well... "This kitten cured my depression", an obviously hyperbolic title, but something the audience wants from him... People want a STORY with youtubers, a sort of triumphant arc, but youtubers aren't actually able to deliver that triumphant arc in the way that the audience wants, because youtubers aren't fictional characters, they're real people.

There's just a brutality in the performer/audience relationship. If the audience doesn't get what they want, they'll just abandon the performer, and the industry is COMPETITIVE, and really unfair. Some of the shittest and laziest content will get a lot of views, while others don't get views when their content is actually interesting and creative! The "literally just reading reddit and monetizing it" and "if I laugh I instantly die" videos have a higher view count than like... "Dan and Dodie do a duet". This is literally modern art, and that's sooo good!!!

The overproduction of it all is by design... It's the point, in many ways, that this guy is being extremely overpaid for content that is objectively bad, but people fall for that kind of thing every time, LOL. It is inauthentic, but it's inauthentic because the personality of Daniel Howell, the host of Dystopia Daily is terrible for youtube views. He's just not the guy he used to be.

Was it the best execution of this concept? I don't know, and I don't really think so (but I am of the belief that art should be easy to understand and this is a VERY debatable point). But, I do think the concept is unique and interesting enough to warrant praise, plus, I think Dan is an ideal person to tell this story... I also think it's hilarious that people were confused about what the fuck it was.

#dystopia daily meta analysis #dystopia daily #Daniel Howell #Dan Howell #phan #dan and phil #dnp #danisnotonfire

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simpxxstan · 9 months ago

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lunch

pairing: elementary school teachers lee seokmin x f.reader

genre: fluff, fluff and some more fluff. a tiny pinch of angst.

summary: as a veteran at sebong elementary school, you don't let any of your juniors get too close to you. the new science teacher, lee seokmin, doesn't seem to get the note, though.

word count: 9.6k words

rating: pg 13

warnings: use of a few profanities, mention of alcohol and illegal gambling. reader is a bit cold in the beginning. slight age gap.

a/n: SO MUCH FLUFF my body hurts but it was so nice to just write good guy dokyeom after all that angst for wonwoo. i'm sorry to any hyungwon fans who may be reading this though T_T

would love to hear feedback!! reblogs and comments are so so much appreciated <3

this is part of the boys over flowers series featuring booseoksoon + chan! this is the first instalment in that series.

It was a day of much ruckus and excitement. The teachers and students were all waiting eagerly to meet the four new teachers who were joining Sebong Elementary School that day. Children with bright cherub faces peeped from their classroom windows, some crowded in the corridors, and teachers whispered loudly, as they all waited to see the four faces of the new teachers emerge from the Principal’s office. And when they finally did, a loud, collective gasp was heard rippling through every room and corner of Sebong Elementary School. And then the bubble broke, as loud whispers and giggling overtook every other noise, as the four men smiled at the kids and adults gathered through the school. They shone brighter than the tubelights on the ceiling-

“Okay, I think you’re exaggerating, Sohee. I’m sure they don’t have 1000 watt smiles.”

“Oh, Y/N, but they do! Even an ice queen like you is going to melt when you see them. They just exude warmth, kindness, and handsomeness. They look like idols, really!”

“Now you’re definitely exaggerating. Park carefully, and don’t daydream please. I’ve been nervous from the moment I let you drive my car.”

“It’s a third-hand car. I should, in fact, smash it, so that you can buy something better. The government’s just moments away from declaring it as junk.”

“This is all I can afford, Sohee.”

“Car loans exist!”

“Bankruptcy exists!”

Sohee huffs, and you meticulously check the rear view mirror to ensure she parks neatly. Once done, (read, once Sohee has finished touching up her lipstick and her mascara, and put a few cute hairclips in her long brown hair, cute by her metrics), you both step out of the car. The heat has become harsher, and you’re a little taken aback by the sting of sunlight on your skin. But it feels good to be out again after that stupid bout of fever which had kept you away from school, and consequently, your life.

You meet several students getting out from the bus in front of the school, some smiling and already chattering with their friends, others shyly holding on to the fingers of their parents. Some of them wave hi to you, others loudly squeal their welcome backs. Your morning grumpiness is slowly wearing away, and you can feel energy bubbling in. It’s barely been the start of the year, and the little ones are very, very gradually warming up to the idea of being away from home for longer than three hours. It’s a trying time for their teachers, and you’re grateful that you don’t teach the youngest class.

On the short walk from the parking area to the school, and it’s such a miracle that Sohee doesn’t start talking about the four new teachers, because you’re frankly tired of hearing about them. It feels like they don’t exist, and even if they do, they’re going to be massive letdowns compared to Sohee’s descriptions. Sohee does have the habit of hyperbole.

But you fall headfirst into it as you slide open the door to the staffroom. Everyone stands up and greets you, as you’re one of the earliest members of the staff. You’d like to think that their greetings are out of affection, and not just respect, but you don’t mind. Majority of the staff is quite young, and people look up to you as the sunbae, and it’s a position of respect you crave and enjoy. It’s not like you’re great at showing how you love them either. You can just hope that they get to know about it from time to time, and don’t hate you for not being too affectionate.

As everyone stands up, you bow to the general crowd, and greet them back, but you’re also welcomed by four unknown faces.

Oh. They must be the new teachers.

Well, Sohee wasn’t really wrong-

Sohee immediately sparks up and begins talking about how you had really high fever, and every evening she found you lying inside your bed, covered in blankets like a burrito, messy in snot and sweat-

“Okay, that’s enough. Sohee, please spare them the details of my ugly illness.” You’re embarrassed and quite red all over, and out of the corner of your eye, you’re watching the reactions of the four new men. Sure, you may not care much about what other people think, but it’s your first impression after all. Everyone is quite vehemently cooing at you now, and the four men have confused, but concerned expressions on their faces.

Minseo comes to the rescue, when she diverts the topic to introduce the new faces to you, and you’re grateful for the first time to hear about these new teachers.

“This is our sunbae, Y/L/N Y/N! She’s one of the first teachers at Sebong Elementary School.” “Aaah, Minseo-yah! You make it sound like she’s old!” Sohee scolds, but you don’t mind. You sure feel old after the way that fever broke your immunity like a twig.

“Aah, sorry. And Y/N Unnie, these are our new joinees this year!” She gestures towards the men, and they bow. You bow in return, and take a full look at them, smiling back at them.

“Hello! I’m Lee Chan, I’m a ‘99 liner! I’ll work hard and show my best side to you, sunbae!” “Good morning! I’m Boo Seungkwan. Nice to meet you!” “Oh, sunbae, hello! I’m Kwon Soonyoung, I’m also glad to meet you Y/N-ssi!” “And I’m Lee Seokmin! I’ll work hard, please take good care of me, sunbae!” They shake your hands like dominos, and your eyes linger a second too long on the last one, the tall one with the brightest smile. 1000 watt seems about right? “I’m happy to meet you too! Let’s work hard for a long time!” You smile back, and there’s a collective Fighting! through the room, before the school bell rings, and the cacophony of kids entering their classrooms breaks the silence of the school building.

It’s lunchtime, and you’ve already forgotten their names. Sohee insists that you sit with them at the same table for lunch, but you’re not hungry enough to take lunch. It’s been a tiring day, and you just want to sip your iced americano and finish the pending work on your desk in the staffroom. Missing a week of school is as burdensome for teachers as it is for students. There are piles of things left to be done, and you assign yourself the task of finishing filling in the register with the names of the students for that lunch break. The staffroom is empty, and you’re happy to work in peace.

You’re so focused on your work that you don’t even notice when a tall man walks into the staffroom sometime in the middle of the lunch break, peeps at you from his desk at the other corner of the room, and then leaves.

It’s finally Friday, and that’s how you’ve spent the last four lunch breaks. You’re finally getting through the pile of work at a steady pace. On top of it all, the Principal has promoted you to the Head Teacher of Science Department, as the previous head’s tenure is over, and that means all the science teachers have to approve their lesson plans for this term through you and you’re also in charge of allotting field trips for scientific experiments.

That’s why Lee Seokmin ambushes you when you’re about to leave at the end of the school day. “Sunbae, I was wondering if you could perhaps look at my lesson plan once? Maybe you could go over it during the weekend?”

You halt your actions of packing your bag, and carefully take the folder from the outstretched hand of the tall man towering over your desk. “Umm, I could look through it now.”

“No, I mean! I’m sorry I didn’t know how to approach you earlier, Sunbae. I’m sorry, I don’t want to keep you from heading home, I’m really sorry-”

“Please stop apologising, Seokmin-ssi. It’s not a big deal. It’s better for me to go through it now in your presence, rather than take it home. I’ll be able to discuss it more smoothly with you then, in case any changes are needed.”

His puppy brown eyes become tiny slits as he smiles wide. You realise that his hair is draping over his forehead in black curls, and the white shirt he’s wearing reveals the column of his neck very elegantly. He does look good enough to be an idol, you think.

“Seokmin-ssi, come take a seat here. I won’t bite, in spite of what you may have heard-”

“Oh no! The kids are all praise for you. I’m so thankful to be succeeding you in the classes, because you’ve set such a strong foundation for the students. You’ve made my job a cakewalk, truly.”

“I’m just thankful that you deal with the younger ones now. I enjoy teaching them, but sometimes they can…” You smile lopsidedly, and Seokmin grins. “I’ve heard that I have a lot of patience, sunbae…” “And you have a lot of fighting spirit that we tend to have when we’ve just joined the school. You’ll manage.”

And then the conversation halts. It flows in bits and pieces, as you flip through his lesson plan and discuss changes with him, speaking from experience of having taught these same classes six years more than him. His lesson plan book is very colourful, filled with stickers from cartoons, and brightly drawn smiley flowers. Something in you makes you think that maybe he’s not just doing this as a show for the kids, but also because he likes to do it. He’s very animated in every statement he makes, hand gestures all over his face, but he quietens down when he realises you’re no longer looking at his face, and would rather just get through the work quickly. You’re not annoyed at him, no. It’s just a little overwhelming to see all this energy being thrown at you, and it makes you tired, wondering how to reciprocate it. So you just silently finish your task, and bid him goodbye. He offers to drop you home, but then you say you have your own car, so he gives you another smile and with a natural ease, hops on to his electric bicycle and rides off into the road.

Seokmin-ssi, you realise, doesn’t want reciprocation. He greets you cheerfully every morning, whenever you see him in the campus, whenever you’re making eye contact before leaving for the day, and whenever you both arrive at the same time at school. He doesn’t just say hello, but he also asks if you had a good weekend, if you had a good sleep, if you ate breakfast, if you’ve recovered fully from your cold, if you’re taking your vitamins. It makes you more uncomfortable than before, confusing you whether he’s just buttering you up as a sunbae or whether he’s genuinely this nice. It’s also a little worrying because it makes you feel like he’s trying too hard to be close and you don’t want to be a bother for him, so you hope he takes the hint. But he obviously doesn’t, because the next time you walk into the staffroom determined not to leave your desk, and instead enjoy the peaceful solitude of the staffroom to recharge your battery, you notice a very neat lunch tray sitting on your desk with a note attached on top, “Sunbae, please don’t skip your meals!” It takes you aback, and you stare at it for a good four minutes. Finally you realise you’re too flustered to eat it, and you just keep it aside and get back at your work.

When Seokmin comes back from his lunch break, he makes the mistake of looking at your desk to see if you’ve eaten, and there. He makes eye contact with your razor sharp eyes looking at him from above your reading glasses. He walks up to your desk and says, “You didn’t eat, sunbae?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I- I- just wanted to-”

“Firstly, Seokmin-ssi, I’m not skipping meals. Secondly, I don’t know if this is normal for you, but I’d appreciate it if we could be harmonious as colleagues. I don’t need you to be my mother for me and feed me. I’m an adult and I know when to eat.”

You can see him gulp and fumble, and for a second, you think you’ve been too harsh. You almost backtrack and apologise, scared that the little light in his eyes is going to go out, but he speaks faster, “I just don’t want you to fall sick again, sunbae. I’m sorry if I was too presumptuous. I’ll do better from now on.” And without another second, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving you speechless. The light in his eyes may not have gone out, but you sure were too mean. Afterall, he was just being nice to you, wasn’t he?”

So, the next week, when you’re finally on track and completed all your pending work, you walk into the cafeteria looking to take a lunch break. And you spot Seokmin sitting with Chan on one table on the teacher’s side of the cafeteria. Chan is a sweet boy, and you want to make amends with Seokmin, so you carefully walk across the room to their table and ask, “Can I have lunch with you?” You ask them both, and Chan instantly begins to clear space for you to sit down, but you’re distracted by how wide Seokmin smiles, and you know the ice has melted. He’s forgiven you, so you gently sit down next to him.

It’s a mistake. You hadn’t accounted for how broad he is, and how much he moves his body while speaking. His thighs inch closer to yours with every movement, although very much unconsciously. Even though you’re both sitting, he’s still taller than you, and it makes you shy.

You’re thankful when Soonyoung joins you across the table and you can distract yourself by speaking to him. “Sunbae, it’s so nice to see you in the cafeteria! We rarely ever see you outside the staffroom.” You smile as wide as you can, your mouth full of food. Chan joins in, “Yes, sunbae! Seokmin hyung’s been so-” “We’ve all been worried,” Seokmin interjects, and you’re hit by a pang of guilt. It is pretty natural for coworkers to care about each other. Especially since you’re their senior and they must be looking to make a good impression.

“I’ve been a little busy with all pending work. The start of the year can be stressful for us senior teachers.”

“I hear Seungkwan hyung is being put in charge of the after-school creche duty?”

“You’ve heard right, Chan. He did apply for it, and given his congenial personality, I think he’d do well if he joined the creche roster.”

“A roster? That means he won’t have duty every day?” Soonyoung asks you.

“Yes, there will be two teachers alternating from Monday to Friday.”

“Oh! Someone lucky gets two days only!”

“We try to ensure even distribution through the month,” you say. “Plus, of course, there can be others volunteering from time to time. So for example, next month, there’s a storytelling week at the creche. Sohee and I will be volunteering for that week as storytellers- that way, the ones responsible for the creche can have a week’s leave from the extra duty.”

Soonyoung and Chan nod in understanding, but you’ve noticed Seokmin is extra quiet, uncharacteristically even. “Do you enjoy the cafeteria food, Seokmin-ssi?” you ask him, speaking softer so that Chan and Soonyoung can’t hear you. It must surprise him, because he looks up at you with wide, boba eyes, and he looks more like a puppy than ever. “I do! The variety is good.” “I’m glad. The caterers recently got changed. The previous ones were seriously falling behind on quality.” Seokmin smiles and eats a big bite of rice and soup, and you chuckle at the comical way his mouth fills up.

You didn’t even think Seokmin would remember. In fact, you’d forgotten that you’d mentioned it yourself.

But he does. He doesn’t just remember, but he also brings a bag full of old picture books.

You swear your heart stops the moment he enters the hall where the after-school creche is organized and hands you the bag. “These were books my mother had kept for ages even after I’d finished reading them a million times. Thought I’d use them somehow, instead of just letting them gather dust on shelves,” he says as he smiles that pretty, wide smile again. It’s been long enough into the new semester now for you to get used to both Seokmin’s smiles, so you can bask in it. The children bask in it too. Most of the tiny members of the creche know him from the class where he’s teaching about animals, and they squeal in excitement. “Aah, Seokmin-ah, you really didn’t have to. You could’ve gone home and rested for the weekend.” His smile drops, and you mentally slap yourself. You really should take care of your words better, so you rephrase it, “What I meant is… you don’t have to do this out of your way.” “I’m not… going out of my way. I just thought I’d come and watch you, sunbae. I want to learn how to handle little children even better.”

So he sits in a corner of the hall, Byul and Jiwon sitting on his lap, while his eyes are fixed on you. You’ve taken the storytelling class two days this week, and this is your third day, so you really shouldn’t be so slippery, but something about how he’s looking at you so intently is making you stumble and fall over your words, and your pronunciation often comes out as jumbled as the three year olds sitting in front of you. You’re made even more aware of Seokmin’s presence when snack time arrives, and the kids are too distracted with the picture books to pay attention to their food and eat. Thankfully, Seokmin uses his charm and somehow gathers everyone to sit in a circle around the table. The children have incessant questions, some about the characters they met in the story, and some random questions too, like Are you married, Teacher Seokmin? It doesn’t matter that you pause in your movements to hear his response, a wide-eyed Minhyun looking confusedly at you, wondering why your hand holding his candy is stuck mid-air. It also doesn’t matter that your heart paces up when you see Seokmin glance in your direction before loudly proclaiming that he’s not married.

The parents arrive soon after that, and then there’s only a crying Byul left, who’s wrapped in Seokmin’s arms as you three wait for her father to arrive. You wonder for a second, how did you ever handle kids, because when you see how Seokmin handles them, you think you’ve done it all wrong for years. He holds her two tiny hands in his own, places her in between his legs and quietly brushes her hair while whispering more imaginary stories about the elephant Byul saw earlier in the picture book. You feel unwanted in this perfect scene, Byul going perfectly silent as she listens to Seokmin talk. But then, honestly, who wouldn’t be in rapture of this beautiful young man?

Byul’s father arrives twenty minutes later, and Byul gives Seokmin a little peck on his cheek before she leaves his arms and goes off with her dad.

“Sunbae, thank you for letting me be here! I had so much fun, and I also learnt so much from you.” You laugh, “I doubt, though. You’re such a natural with children.” He smiles, “That’s just because I have a lot of cousins. But it’s different handling kids at school. I always have to be extra-careful with them because I’m a complete stranger and not a relative.” “You’re right, and that shows in your care too, Seokmin-ah.” He blushes, and you smile as you lock up the hall and finally make your way to leave the campus. Your back hurts from sitting on the floor for so long and you’re surely glad to go home.

“Sunbae, did you bring your car?”

“Aah, no. Today was Sohee’s carpooling turn, she left early. I’ll just take the bus.”

“Let me drop you home, sunbae! It’s late already.”

You pause, and turn to look at him. His hopeful face, still radiant after the long day. And you feel that same overwhelming feeling take over you. Till now, Seokmin has only given and given, never expecting anything in return. He’s extended a helping hand without you asking for it, he’s reminded you for meals even when you’ve ignored him, he’s been nothing but kind to you. And if he’s doing this even after three whole months of him joining the school, then it can’t be just buttering tactics.

“I don’t want to get you late, Seokmin-ah.”

“I won’t, sunbae. It’s not a worry, honestly.” He bites his lower lip, his eyebrows furrowed as he asks you again, “Please let me drop you, sunbae.”

It’s been years since a man has been this kind to you. Kind enough without coming off as a creep. A part of you is wary, but something in Seokmin’s eyes makes you feel guilty for ever mistrusting his intentions.

“Alright, Seokmin-ah. Noona owes you one.”

You can see the stutter in his eyes even before you hear it in his voice.

“N-noona? Oh. Noona! I’ll drive you safely!”

And he does. Diligent, puppy-like, kind Seokmin drives you home quickly and safely. For the first time in years, you sleep with a smile on your face.

You enter the Principal’s office to find a very nervous-looking Seokmin standing next to the Principal. “Good Morning, Mr. Han. Is something wrong?” “Yes, good morning Y/N. I’ve just received a complaint from a parent, and as the head of science teachers, I’d like you to look into it once.” “Of course.”

Then you turn towards Seokmin, who is standing very upright, but you can see him nervously twitching his feet. “Seokmin-ssi, is the parent here in school, or have you received a written complaint?” Seokmin’s voice is barely audible the first time he speaks, so you take a couple of steps to be closer to him. “Don’t be so nervous. Please tell me everything so that I can help resolve this.” He looks at you, his eyes still wide, and the tension obvious in his face. But he takes a deep breath and says, “They’re here, in my science classroom.” “And can you tell me the gist of the matter?” “I… I… I had asked her daughter to not draw with crayons on the walls of the science classroom. And one time… I’d asked her daughter to bring more nutritious food to class instead of chips every single day.” He says softly, his eyes focused on the blue linoleum tiles on the floor. You take a deep breath. As you’ve grown more senior, you’ve eventually detached yourself from the classes of the youngest students, those below four years of age. So naturally, you’d not gotten into messes like this for a long time. But with your experience, you know just how to deal with such cases.

So you excuse yourself from the office and walk down to Seokmin’s homeroom, gesturing him to enter as you both walk into the classroom. It is deserted, except for a very grim-looking gigantic woman standing next to a tiny girl with even tinier braids. “Good morning. I’m Y/L/N Y/N, Head of the Science Department.” “Yes, well, I’m hoping you’d be more competent about it all rather than Mr. Lee here.”

You forcefully smile tightly and ask, “Please let me know the details of the matter.” “Where do I begin! Mr. Lee has been… very dictatorial with my daughter. First he forbids her from colouring, and then he forces her to starve herself! It’s absolutely ridiculous that a teacher can do such things!” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin shrink further away into the corner, his eyes wide.

“Based on how well I know Mr. Lee, I can’t imagine him forcing a child to starve themselves. Correct me if I’m wrong, but did he ask her to bring a different set of food for lunch, rather than chips?” “Yes, but-” “And that was purely based on nutritional concerns, Ma’am. As teachers at Sebong Elementary School, we want to ensure our students receive proper nutrition at their growing age. And I can assure you that chips are not the most nutritious food your daughter can eat every day.” “I’m a working mother-” “I’m sure you can buy a fruit or toast a single slice of bread along with a slice of cheese along with the chips, if you’re so busy.”

The woman in front of you stands speechless for a second, before continuing in her boisterous tone, “But who are you to dictate what I feed my child?” “Nobody, truly. But Mr. Lee is a kindhearted man, who cares for every child in this school, and even his colleagues and peers like me. As a teacher, he has the best interest of his students in mind, you see.” “Certainly can’t be more than that of her mother.” “Of course, which is why I’d advise you too, as would any other paediatrician, that only chips is not the diet a four-year old child should be exposed to on a daily basis.”

The woman takes a step back. Her grip on her daughter’s fingers loosen, and the child takes a step forward. “Miss, I really like the grapes Mr. Lee gave me the other day! That’s why I’ve stopped eating Eomma’s lunch!” She smiles at you, and you bend down on your knee to meet her at eye level. “Is that so? But darling, you should always eat what your mummy’s giving you. Good girls don’t skip meals, understood?” She nods her little head very seriously, so you pat her once on her head. Then you stand up again and look at her mother. “I see your daughter does enjoy eating grapes. Perhaps you could buy her some fruits for lunch.”

She tilts her head a little bit, looking fully like a kid who’s been punished for being too outspoken, and honestly you’re glad to have made that effect. Some people can be so entitled and so rude, and it leaves such a harsh impression on softer teachers like Seokmin. Which is exactly what you see when the parent does leave with her child a few minutes later, as the man, who hasn’t spoken a single word since entering the room, comes up to you gingerly.

“Noona, thank you so much. I was so- so scared.” You smile at him as warmly as you can, “Please don’t be. It wasn’t your fault at all that some parents can misunderstand even the best intentions of teachers. It’s pretty common- as time goes on, people will just find more flaws, whether it be in your teaching skills or your child-handling skills. You just need to be less nervous when things like this happen. If you ever need help in these things, of course I’m always here… as are your other seniors. But it’s best if you learn to handle these things without taking them too much to your heart, unless you see there is genuine room for improvement for you.” He nods throughout, and his eyes have become round like a puppy’s eyes again. “I will introspect, Noona.” He laughs a bit, “This honestly isn’t the first time someone’s misunderstanding my intentions. But I will try harder to be more clear and not … not be presumptuous,” he says, looking deep into your eyes, before he bows and leaves the room.

As you stand there in the classroom, alone you realise that the situation oddly reminds you of a similar conversation you had with him at the beginning of the semester. When you’d asked him to keep his distance and not interfere … all while, he was just trying to be kind. Oh god. You’d been just as rude as the parent had been today, hadn’t you? Oh dear god. No wonder he’d looked so downcast and rejected after that.

Sohee’s thousand-day anniversary at the school is coming up so Minseo’s put on a surprise party at her house. It’s not a surprise to just Sohee, but also to you. “Oh, why didn’t you let me know earlier, Minseo-yah?” “We would, but you’ve just been so busy with the end of term reports and grades that we didn’t want to bother you.” “Well, that’s not something only I’m doing. I’m sure you all were busy too.” “But none of us are head of departments, you know?” She giggles, and you know it’s not a jibe. But it still feels bad to not be able to contribute when everyone is contributing in some way or the other.

So you order a six-pound blueberry cheesecake for the party, knowing blueberry to be Sohee’s favourite flavour. And, as expected, it’s a party hit. It turns out to be the favourite flavour of a lot of people, even Seokmin, who helps himself to three slices, and you’re just glad to see them all enjoying it. There’s drinks, pizza and music playing in the background. And although the teacher community at Sebong Elementary School is not too big, you’re a lot of twenty-six people, and you’re thankful that Minseo comes from a rich family that has a big house. And yet, it feels cosy and familiar. You barely attend parties or social gatherings, and unless it’s family occasions, having been out of the dating scene for years. But this type of party seems fun to you- perhaps it’s you growing old, perhaps it’s you no longer finding staying up late exciting, perhaps it’s you realising that getting wasted is not as interesting as you used to think it was in college. So you settle for being the woman who’s dressed in a sweater although it’s barely autumn, already mentally classified as a spinster for almost everyone you meet, thirty and with no life outside of work, and you’re happy. You’re happy right now, sipping a cocktail and eating the fried chicken Minseo’s airfrying and constantly supplying to the party, celebrating your closest friend, Sohee. You know that although Sohee’s a couple of months younger than you, and definitely has a more active love life, she’s just like you at heart, and she’s the sister you’ve never had. As she gets drunk (you can tell it’s the first time in a long time by the way she’s getting tipsy even faster than she usually does), she leans over to smooch you loudly on the cheek, and you laugh and give in to her. It creates a loud wave of cheers across the room, but it’s such a warm moment. She clinks her glass with yours and rests her head on your shoulder, while raising a toast to the teachers at Sebong Elementary School. There’s another round of cheers, and then your phone reminds you it’s ten pm, and you should be heading home because it’s a school day tomorrow. The buzz feels good, and you want to stay longer, but you’re not drunk enough to forget your responsibilities. And so the party gradually disperses. You hug Minseo and thank her for organising the wonderful party, and somehow Sohee manages to stand up on her feet steadily. Seungkwan takes the duty to drop Sohee home as he lives near her house, and before you can say anything, Seokmin takes on the responsibility of dropping you home.

“I don’t want to impose-” “But I insist, Y/N Noona.” “Why do you always insist, Seokmin? I feel like I’m a burdensome sunbae, not a nice sunbae.” You try not to pout when he leads you to where his car is parked and opens the door for you. He giggles, his face red with the dopamine (and drinks) from the party. “You’re just fishing for compliments, Noona. You know I never think of taking care of you as a burden.”

Perhaps drinking that third cocktail was a mistake.

But you did drink it, so you lean over the centre console of the car and say, with a soft giggle, “If you say things like that, Seokmin-ah, people are going to misunderstand and think you like like me.”

“But I do like like you, Noona.”

You almost miss his words while waving goodbye to the other teachers standing on the pavement in front of Minseo’s house, waiting for their rides.

Almost.

“What?” You spin your head so fast it gives you whiplash, and you feel like you’re instantly sober, the way you become alert instantly. Seokmin’s looking at the road as he drives into the main road, his eyes bright by reflecting the street lights. “I do, Noona.”

“No- no, you can’t. Are you serious, Seokmin-ah? Because if you are, you can’t.”

“Why?”

There’s a red light, and he’s looking at you, the street lights shining on his face and the gentle handsomeness of his features are glowing in their full glory. This isn’t the first time you’ve found him awe-strikingly beautiful, but right now, he looks positively angelic. His eyelashes form delicate shadows on his cheeks, and the way his hair gets swayed by the wind coming in from the open car windows makes him seem even prettier.

“Because… you’re so… young. And fresh, and beautiful. And I’m thirty, I spend my days working and my nights reading romantic classics, and I’m so boring a-and you deserve better.”

His mouth twists bitterly, and he says, “But none of that is true, Noona.”

“It is, Seokmin-ah. You barely know me.”

“But I want to. I’m just asking for a chance.”

You stay silent for a long time. In the sparse traffic of the night, you’re reach your house quicker than you’d thought.

“I don’t want you to make a mistake, Seokmin-ah. I shouldn’t be someone you like more than simply as a sunbae.”

He pauses, then replies, “If you don’t want to give me a chance, that’s okay Noona. I can make peace with it. But you can’t ask me to stop liking you, Noona. My feelings are mine.”

You don’t say anything on the rest of the journey. You don’t have anything else to say. You can’t even be harsh to him because what he’s saying is logical. You cannot take away his right to like you, even if you don’t think it’s the right choice for him. You’re an adult, he’s an adult, you both have your own opinions and choices.

It’s only when the car does reach your house that you attempt to say something.

“I feel sorry for making you come all the way to my house to drop me. Do you want to come in to eat something? I had some dakgalbi made for tonight’s dinner before I got to know about the party.”

He looks at you for a long time. You can see the wheels turn in his head, before he says, “Okay.”

Your flat is on the third floor, so you’re patiently climbing the stairs. Seokmin makes light conversation, breaking the ice, and you actively try to respond. You don’t want him to feel dejected, but you also don’t want to feel like you’re taking him to your house because you pity him after you outright rejected him.

Your efforts go to waste when you see a figure sitting on the floor in front of the door to your apartment.

“Hyungwon?”

Seokmin pauses behind you, as you stand stunned on the last staircase before the landing, and the man you addressed looks up at the two of you. Even in the dim light of the single bulb lighting up the stairwell, you can see that he’s very wasted. “Y/N-ah! I- I’ve been waiting for you.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, you haven’t changed, have you? Straight to the point. No hellos, no-”

“Yes, Hyungwon. What are you doing here?”

He sighs as he stands up. “I missed you.”

Your head starts to spin. It’s like you’ve been transported back to 2022, when Hyungwon had confessed to you that he’d gambled away all your money, and that he’d been doing so for the last seven months, and that was where he was spending all his evenings at instead of the evening college you’d enrolled him into and whose fees you thought you’d been paying.

Your head spins again, and you’re stumbling back until someone catches you midway before you tumble down the stairs.

“Noona!” that someone whispers in alarm in your ear, and you realise it’s Seokmin.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, not Seokmin.

Why does Seokmin, out of all people, have to see this?

“Seokmin-ah, leave-”

“Ooh, who’s that?” Hyungwon takes a step closer, and takes a drink out of a soju bottle he’s holding in his left hand. “Boyfriend? You’re still into pretty boys, aren’t you?”

Seokmin pulls you closer to him, your back nearly touching his chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hyungwon, Y/N’s first love. You better get out of here, kid.”

“What do you want, Hyungwon? Don’t bullshit with me about missing me. No apology, no regrets, and now you’re suddenly at my doorstep?” You carefully break away from Seokmin’s gentle clasp, and walk towards your ex-boyfriend. “You want my money again.” The lanky man in front of you grins, that fucking lazy, pretty grin you’d fallen so hard for in college.

“Y/N, where’s the love gone, jagi? Why are we talking about money?”

“Fuck off, Hyungwon. The love was gone long before I even broke up with you.”

He lifts his free hand and tries to reach out to you. “Jagiya-”

“I’m not your jagiya! Hyungwon, I’m not giving you anymore money, so you should just leave! And stop coming to me every time you want money, for god’s sake! We’re done, Hyungwon.”

The man in front of you falls to his knees, “Please, I’m begging you, Y/N-ah! I’ll get into serious trouble if I don’t repay this debt by the end of this month! Y/N, for the sake of old times-”

“Hyungwon, please don’t! I’m not giving you any of my money, no matter how much you beg.”

His hand wraps around your leg, “Y/N-ah, please, just hear me out once! I am sorry for everything I did, and I’m so willing to amend my ways-”

“Please leave, Hyungwon-ssi, you’re making Noona uncomfortable.” Seokmin suddenly says from behind you, and you walk backward down the stairs until you’re again close enough to him that you can feel his body heat on your back. It makes you feel oddly safe.

“Who are you to say anything about Y/N, huh? You don’t even know her for long, I bet! Y/N and I dated for seven years!”

“It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her, Hyungwon-ssi. What matters is that right now, she feels safe with me, and not around you. So please leave, Hyungwon-ssi.” You don’t even realise when his hands have come to wrap gently around you, not quite touching your body, but caging you away from the man who’s looking at you both with frantic and desperate eyes. You don’t know he knows that you’re feeling safe around him, but you’re so grateful. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll have to call the police, Hyungwon-ssi.”

The man in front of you gulps. “Fuck! I’ll be back, Y/N-ah. And then I’ll see where this boyfriend of yours will be!” And he storms down the stairs, cursing under his breath, and you’re still shaking in Seokmin’s grip.

Five minutes pass before he asks you, gently whispering in your ear, “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You slowly turn around and face him. You’re awfully close to him, and as you stand on the higher staircase, you’re eye-to-eye with him. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, Seokmin-ah.”

“No, Noona. I’m just upset thinking of what would happen if I hadn’t come up with you here tonight.”

“No, don’t be. He’s… harmless. He’s all talk and no action.”

“Has he been here before?”

You bite your lip. You don’t want to tell him things which will involve him deeper into this. He doesn’t know anything, he’s a complete stranger to it all, and yet, he is right, you do feel safe around him. But that doesn’t mean you burden him any further.

“Seokmin-ah, I don’t want you to get worried about this. I can take care of myself, it’s just Hyungwon. Like I said, he’s only bark and no bite.”

“Noona-”

“I’ll be fine, honestly! I’m sorry you had to see all this happen.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but then he becomes silent again.

“Do you want to come in-”

“No, Noona. I’ll just leave. I won’t take any more of your time. Have a good night, Noona.”

“Seokmin-ah, pl-”

“Goodnight, Noona. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he walks away, and you’re left there, unarmed, uneasy and all alone, swimming in your own thoughts. You feel like you should run after him like in the movies, and stop him from leaving, but your legs feel like lead. There’s a sinking feeling in your heart and a sense of emergency, and it’s not because your ex-boyfriend came up to your door asking for money to waste again.

You don’t go to school the next day. The day after that is a Saturday, thankfully a holiday, and you can spend a day moping in regret, stuffing popcorn into your face and pretending like you’re not an adult anymore and you can live without worrying about responsibilities and keep time standing still.

It doesn’t work.

Sohee arrives to your door on Sunday morning, sunglasses perched on her head. “Where have you been, sweetie?” She doesn’t wait for you to respond and shoves herself into your flat.

“Nowhere, Sohee.”

“You’re pouting, your bed isn’t made, and I can smell caramel popcorn. Something’s up. Tell me, baby.”

She sits down on the couch, pulling you down next to her, and taps twice on your shoulder prompting you to spill. So you do spill.

You tell her every thought that has crossed your mind these last 48 hours. How Seokmin confessed that he likes you. How you’d turned him down instantly. How Hyungwon had turned up at your door and ruined the night after the party. How you’d practically shooed Seokmin away although he’d been nothing but protective and helpful to you. How you’d wallowed in regrets since then, having realised that you’re such a coward.

“Yeah, you are a coward. In what right mind would you turn down Seokmin when you’re so down bad for him?”

“Huh?”

“Dummy. You can’t even realise your own feelings, and you act like you’re so mature. Age is truly just a number,” she sighs before digging into your bowl of popcorn.

“I don’t… I don’t have feelings for Seokmin.”

“What makes you think so?”

“He’s… he’s just a hoobae.”

“So are Chan and Soonyoung and Seungkwan. Why do you always blush when you talk to Seokmin, even if it’s over something as mundane as lunch? Why do you so often go to his classroom and aid him in his lessons during your free periods, even though he doesn’t necessarily ask for it? Why do you talk more to him than to your other hoobaes?”

You stay silent for a second.

“Y/N-ah, think carefully about this.”

“I shouldn’t think of him in this light… he’s so much younger.”

“You’re just three years older than him, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re so old!”

“But…”

“Oh fuck, this isn’t about age, is it? You feel like you’re going to be to him what Hyungwon became to you? Predatory?”

You’re left silent again. Sohee understands from your (lack of) actions, and jumps across the couch to hug you. “Oh, Y/N-ah. Stop beating yourself up for that. It’s been so, so long. Stop blaming yourself for something that’s not even your fault.”

“But Seokmin deserves better, don’t you think?”

“And you deserve better than beating yourself over an ex like Hyungwon. You deserve a second chance at love too, baby.” She hugs you tightly, and you don’t know when tears have started rolling down your cheek.“I’m a coward, Sohee. I can’t get the courage to even accept my feelings.” “Then let Seokmin help you. Honestly, with the way he always looks at you like you spin his earth and you’re his god, I don’t think he’ll have any issues waiting for you to realise your feelings.” You blush and hide your face in her neck at her sly words. She’s too outspoken for her own good.

“What if it’s just a crush for him, that’ll pass soon? There’s not much about me that will keep him interested in me after a few months.”

“You’ve got to stop being so pessimistic. Again, just because one guy was stupid and decided to rip off your hard-earned money and your blind trust in him, doesn’t mean another guy will! I’ll say it again, you deserve a second chance!”

The doorbell rings right then. You get up to open the door, to find a letter on the doormat.

“It’s from the local police station.” You pick it up and show Sohee, who’s equally confounded as you are. “Well, open it, girl!”

It’s a letter stating a level one restraining order has been requested for your protection against Chae Hyungwon, who has repeatedly disturbed you while drunk, and demanded money for illegal gambling purposes.

And the request has been made from Lee Seokmin.

“So you just have to sign it and that’s it? Hyungwon out from your life forever?”

You nod, unable to reply, you’re still shocked by the letter. So is Sohee, it seems. Because all she can manage is, “Wow. Y/N, you’ve gotta marry him.”

“Who?!”

“Seokmin, of course. If this is his level of devotion-”

“You don’t think this was unnecessary?”

“Y/N, are you for real? He’s literally looking out for you and doing what you should’ve done ages back, and you think he’s overstepping boundaries? He’s one gem of a person seeing that he’s doing all this without even you prompting him and even after you literally rejected his confession.”

You take a deep breath. She’s right. She’s so right that your heart hurts and you want to bend down on your knees because your body feels limp. How much more does Seokmin have to give you for you to be able to start giving back to him? One voice in your head chastises you. Love isn’t quid pro quo! You fight back. Fair. But at least you’ve started admitting it is love. The voice laughs at you, leaving you vulnerable.

“Well, he said yes.”

“What?” You spin your head to look at Sohee who’s holding your phone in her hand.

“Seokmin. He said he’ll meet you at the park near school. In about an hour.”

“Did you just text him from my phone?”

“I did, for your own good. Because if it were up to you, you would have overthought yourself into a hole you’d dig for yourself and not made a move at all even when he’s literally played all his cards and proved his commitment.”

“Aishh, you’re so annoying,” you playfully shove her.

“Your annoying friend just wants to see you happy,” she pouts cutely, and you laugh at the face she’s making.

“Okay, now go get dressed. You have to finish this game now, Y/N. I’ll drop you to the park.”

When Sohee drops you a little far away from the park, kissing your forehead and wishing you fighting!, you find Seokmin already sitting on a bench on a relatively empty side of the park. He looks up at you as you get closer, and you wave at him. You feel so timid, so nervous, just walking up to him, his handsomeness hitting you with full force as you see him in more casual clothes than ever before, knowing that this man, this beautiful man likes you. And he wants you, and he’s proved how far he can go to care for you, even when you’ve rejected his care.

“Noona, how are you? We were worried after you called your day off on Friday.”

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t sick or anything.” You laugh awkwardly. “Just, taking some time to ponder over things myself.”

“Oh.” He sits down on the bench, the loose end of his checked shirt gently swaying in the breeze.

“And I regret how I acted that night. I’m sorry for being so harsh-” he starts to say something, but you gently put a finger on his hand, and that makes him shush. “I’m not just talking about Thursday night. I’ve been harsh to you ever since the beginning of the year. You’ve been nothing but kind and generous to me. But… time has made me unnaturally wary and I find it so hard to accept attention or even kindness easily. Thus, time and again I’ve pushed you away, yet you’ve kept coming back. It’s true that I didn’t realise your intentions earlier, but I know, deep down in my heart, that I’ve liked you too for quite some time.”

His eyes are wide, and you move an inch closer to him on the bench.

“I thought it was silly, to have a crush on a man so obviously young like you. I’m thirty now, turning thirty-one in a few weeks. I’ll always be older than you, less energetic, more boring and to be honest, I think it’s not even age but just experience which has made me like this. And I denied myself your attention because I thought you deserved better. And I still do. You sent a restraining request to the police on my ex-boyfriend on my behalf. You… you’ve gone out of your way so many times, even when I’ve been so harsh with you. You’re the one who’s precious, you’re made out of stardust. I’m just a broccoli that’s stacked in the corner of the fridge because no one wanted to eat me when I was fresh and no one should eat me now because now I’m stale.”

“That’s a ridiculous comparison. Even Soonyoung comparing himself to a tiger is better than you comparing yourself to a broccoli.” He finally says, and you laugh before you realise it.

“Stop calling yourself old, Noona. Three years of an age difference isn’t a big deal. If the reason you’re holding yourself back is Hyungwon-ssi…”

“It is, I won’t lie. Hyungwon and I started dating when we were in college. We were so good, for so long. Until the pandemic came and took his job. That’s when he started getting into these bad habits. He took to gambling, and to stop him, I enrolled him into an evening college, hoping he’d get more productive and use the time we were stuck at home to get himself more educated and get a better job soon. It turned out he was wasting all my money on gambling, again. Every fees I’d paid to him had actually gone down the drain at a local club. And he even had the audacity to refuse me when I told him I want to break up with him.”

“Well, but he eventually did. That didn’t stop him from coming to my doorstep ever three or four months, asking for cash. Sometimes I’d drive him away, sometimes I’d give in if I was too tired to argue with him and if he was sober and dangerous.”

“Would you have given him money that night… had I not been there?”

You look down at your hands in shame. “I may have. I don’t know.”

“Do you still have feelings for him, Noona? It’s okay if you do have feelings, you know.”

“God, no. I don’t have feelings for him. It’s just that… we were together for seven years. We’ve grown up together. Seeing him in a pitiful state like that makes me sad. And I hope each time, that this will be the last time he’s at my door asking for money.” You look away, too ashamed to look at Seokmin. But he uses a hand to gently grip your chin and turn your head towards him.

“You’re too kind for your own good, Noona.” You blush at the proximity, and the gentle way he’s touching your face. “This is why I like you. Because you’re so human in a world where everyone is plastic. I don’t like you because you’re a sunbae I want to impress. I don’t like you because boys like me find older women hot. Well, I do find you hot-”

“Seokmin!” You haven’t heard someone call you hot in so long, and it makes your skin burn.

He giggles, and slowly flattens his palm to cup your cheek.

“I think the restraining order should do the trick, then. He’ll not harass you any longer.”

“Thank you. You’ve been brave when I’ve been a coward.”

“That’s what makes us a good team, Noona.”

You finally make eye contact with him, gazing into his doe-like brown eyes which are crinkled at the edges with a hint of a smile and wide with hope.

“Your eyes are so pretty, Seokmin-ah. Just like the rest of you. Especially your heart.”

“It’s pretty because it belongs to you, Noona.”

You blush harder, and turn your face away from him. “I’ll not like you any more if you’re cheesy like this.”

“But it feels good to make you blush like this. How dare you compare yourself to a broccoli, huh? You have no idea what you do to me- when you enter any room, you light it up with your aura, you make it so much warmer, so much brighter. And then a fucking broccoli?”

“Stop! I didn’t mean it to be so deep. It’s just what I ate for lunch because that’s all I had in my fridge.” He giggles again, and you giggle along with him. You realise you’ve both moved closer to each other on the bench, until your thighs are touching.

“Then you’ve got to have lunch again. No one should exist by eating just broccoli.”

“With you?”

“If you’d like that.” He cups your other cheek with another hand, and you can feel your skin on fire. His eyes are gently inching towards your lips so you slowly close your eyes. “If you’re going to kiss me, know that I don’t have much experience in that. I’ll be your hoobae in that regard, sunbae.” You hear a soft giggle, and the kiss doesn’t arrive, so you open your eyes again, just to see him blush all over. “God, you’re so pretty, Noona. I could look at you all day.”

“How about you tell me when you started liking me?”

“Umm, I think that time you came to eat lunch with us for the first time? I think it all started with me just trying to get you to eat meals on time. Good girls don’t skip meals, as I heard someone once say,” you playfully hit his chest lightly, and he laughs. “I don’t know, maybe it was before that. But that afternoon, I realised my crush on you was so serious. I was getting tingly all over every time our shoulders touched.”

“Oh! Well, thank goodness it wasn’t just me.”

“Really? From so long ago? Oh, Noona, if you’d just told me earlier…”

“Shh!” You giggle, “I didn’t even realise anything. I was just desperate to get you to forgive me.”

“But I was never angry at you. I could never be.”

You smile again, and he pulls you closer until your entire body is touching him. “So are you giving me a chance, Noona?”

“Yes. I like you, Lee Seokmin, and I’m still shocked that you like me, after everything you’ve had to see.”

“Well, I do. I like you so much that I might be seeing stars over your head every time you come into my line of sight.”

You giggle again, your insides turning to mush. “Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N Noona?” His voice is, oh, so soft, like a melody. And his eyes so earnest, like an autumn leaf. “I’d be very honoured to, Seokmin-ah.” “May I kiss you?” You feel yourself getting red with anticipation as you quietly nod your consent.

And so he kisses you. Like your very own Prince Charming, he kisses you, one hand on the back of your neck, and the other cupping onto your cheek, first gentle and slow, and then a little more passionate, as you pull him closer by holding on to his slender waist. “Fuck, Noona. You taste so sweet,” he says while taking a breath, and then attacks your face all over by placing tiny pecks all over your nose, cheeks and forehead. “I like you so much, I think I might die from it.” You laugh once again at his words, unable to say anything else because he’s effectively shut you up through his incessant kisses. When he finally moves his face away from yours, his 1000 watt signature smile bright on his face, you say to him, “Not before we have lunch together, though.”

a/n: read the stories of the other three boys here! lmk your thoughts <3

tagging: kokoiinuts

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anexperimentallife · 10 months ago

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So you want leftist candidates? Here's how you get them:

First off, you have to understand that the far right didn't just wake up one day and say, "We should fuck up the country!" They have been OPENLY working for decades to fill literally every elected or appointed government position they could with Christian Dominionists and other right-wingers, and these folks show up to the polls EVERY SINGLE TIME.

When I was a kid in a far right church in the 1960s, they openly discussed how important is was to get their people into office who would help pass legislation to persecute/imprison/kill anyone who didn't follow their religion. If there's no one sufficiently right-wing running, they'll vote for whomever is closest, even if it gags them. And I cannot emphasize enough that they have long term goals that they are willing to take--and HAVE taken--generations to achieve.

The overturning of Roe v. Wade, for example, is a DIRECT RESULT of the decades-long effort by the far right to boost the most far-right-leaning candidates they could find. They've been talking for decades SPECIFICALLY about getting enough far right judges in SCOTUS to overturn Roe v. Wade. And these SCOTUS appointments are for LIFE, so these judges get to set policy for your GRANDCHILDREN.

So yes, the overturning of Roe v. Wade was only made possible because Trump was able to appoint three SCOTUS judges, in addition to all the other federal judges he appointed. Amd they're talking about going after same-sex marriage, minority rights, etc.

(Hell, the judge in charge of his secret documents case is one that he appointed--she has indefinitely postponed that case,by the way.)

And you don't think local school board elections are important? Have you not seen the news about all the anti-queer policies, and all the book-bannings? This, also, has a generational effect.

Meanwhile the left refuses to turn up to the polls because none of the candidates are pure enough. So guess why things are getting worse?

If the Left turned out for the most left-leaning candidate at EVERY SINGLE ELECTION, whether local or state or whatever, including primaries, we'd start seeing more leftist candidates. Yes, that means that if there's a choice between two extreme right wing candidates, you vote for the least extreme one.

I know I keep emphasizing that this is not just about POTUS, but POTUS does figure in, of course (among other things, who do you think appoints judges for congress to approve?).

So swallow this pill: Anything shitty Biden is doing, the shitgibbon will do MORE of.

"Not gonna vote Biden because he supports genocide, so I'd rather the guy win who ALSO supports genocide, wants Russia to invade more countries, thinks it's fine if China retakes Taiwan, wants a nationwide abortion ban, removal of civil rights for minorities, wants to overturn same-sex marriage (which the right-leaning majority in SCOTUS are already talking about), to cut back the role of congress in checking executive actions (including workarounds to avoid the need for congressional confirmation for presidential appointees), to remove federal employee protections so federal personnel can be replaced with Trump loyalists, and so on! That'll teach those Dems a lesson! THEN they'll be sorry. And fuck everyone the bad guys hurt, because I'll still be PURE. So what if top GOP officials want to actually NUKE Gaza?"

That's fucking kindergartner thinking.

Yes, Biden is a piece of shit, but I am not waxing at all hyperbolic when I say that a second orange shitgibbon term, with a far-right-majority SCOTUS--especially if the GOP manages majorities in both houses of congress--may be the end of what little is left of Democracy in the US. Not gonna argue about it, because I don't waste my time with petulant children.

Look at the GOP's plans for a Republican administration, and tell me you think it sounds better than another term of Biden. Hell, they've even set up online trainings and loyalty tests to narrow down potential federal hires to those who will commit to follow Trump without question.

I repeat: If you want more leftist candidates, if you want more worker power, if you want billionaires taxed, if you want to protect minorities and the queer community, you have to adopt the strategy that the right has used, educate yourself about what candidates stand for, and show up EVERY SINGLE TIME. Again, that includes primaries.

So many of us on the left would rather sit in the basement dreaming of some magical revolution that's going to fix everything, giving ourselves and others purity tests, and proudly announcing that we're... boycotting democracy by not voting(?), "because none of the candidates are a good choice."

Yeah, the left refusing to vote--or only voting in presidential elections--while the right turns up every time is exactly how we got here.

And you have to support the most left-leaning candidate even if it makes you gag, and even if "most left-leaning" means "not as openly fascist." This is the ONLY way you can be assured of candidates getting further to the left in the future. (Note that this means learning about your local candidates.)

"But voting won't fix--" I never said it was going to fix everything. There's no rule that if you vote, you can't volunteer with Food Not Bombs, or run for school board, or demonstrate, or circulate petitions. It takes more than voting, but voting has to be PART of our strategy.

You also have to accept that it may take decades to change course, and that you're not going to like every candidate you have to vote for.

The right didn't just magically get the orange shitgibbon into office overnight. It took decades of work. And if we want decent human beings in charge, we have to be willing to do the same.

#uncle rob gets political

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thankskenpenders · 1 year ago

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Amy's fortune cards

The Sonic fandom has long been the kind of fandom that takes minor details very seriously, for better or worse. On the one hand, this means fans will really dig for the diamonds in the rough, latching onto fun character interactions, animations, bits of background worldbuilding, and more in pieces of Sonic media that many would write off as "the bad ones." But it also feels like every week another needlessly hostile debate over Sonic minutia erupts on Twitter, whether it's over individual lines of dialogue, fanart that makes Tails' shoes blue, or the ideal length and volume for Sonic's quills.

So it was probably inevitable that a fandom-wide debate would erupt upon seeing Amy's new gameplay style in the DLC for Sonic Frontiers, which takes the once-obscure fact that she enjoys reading tarot and shines a spotlight on it like never before.

I mean:

The thing is, while I basically always try to tune out Sonic fandom bickering... for once, I kind of sympathize with the detractors? Don't get me wrong, I like Amy's tarot stuff, and people on all sides of the discussion are being overly nasty about their opinions, as usual. (Sonic Twitter remains my personal hell.) But when I set aside the hyperbole and zoom out, I do think I understand why some fans are put off by the sudden shift in focus for the character, even if I think it's cool.

It's complicated. Let me attempt to present the cases for and against Amy's fortune cards

For years, I was always one of those fans who thought it could be fun if they played with Amy's tarot reading, or even leaned into some kind of magic with her. Part of that is my own biases showing, but there's just something that makes sense there, especially when you look at Sonic, Tails, and Amy as a trio. (I would argue that's the real "Team Sonic" these days, especially in the comics where Knuckles is more likely to be stuck on Angel Island or otherwise doing his own thing.)

You could argue that Tails is all about logic, relying on science and technology and deductive reasoning to solve problems. But Amy is all about emotion. She wears her heart on her sleeve, is extremely empathetic, and is very prone to magical thinking - both figuratively and sometimes literally. Her origin story has always been that her tarot cards told her it was her destiny to meet Sonic on Little Planet. She's claimed to be able to "sense" peoples' presences - particularly Sonic's. She's the type to believe that The Power of Love is a literal magical force. So, on some level, it makes sense to mirror Tails's science by having Sonic's other best friend believe in magic. And then Sonic is somewhere in the middle, primarily following his own gut instincts but taking advice from both of them as needed. This isn't totally accurate to how their dynamics actually function in canon stories, but I think it's a mode that could work for them.

Going off of that, it's fun to lean all the way into Amy being a magical girl, or even a witch, using her fortune telling as a foundation. Take, for example, this version of Amy from Diana Skelly's old Sonic cast redesigns from before she freelanced for Archie and IDW. This is one of MANY such redesigns for Amy.

Fast forward to the 2020s, and Amy's tarot cards are, in fact, finally getting brought up again in canon. Which is fun! I like seeing that. I like all of the individual stories involving Amy's fortune cards. This is a fun character trait for Amy, a fun nod to old lore, AND a fun storytelling device, all in one. It's really cool that the Sonic universe has its own thematically appropriate arcana, and that the cards are getting made as physical merch. And sure enough, the official card backs and borders were designed by none other than Diana Skelly, in yet another cool example of an ascendant fan leaving their mark on the series.

BUT... when you step back and look at the big picture, I get why some fans find this shift in focus jarring. At the moment, it's starting to feel like every new story about Amy involves her fortune cards to some degree.

The most recent mainline comic arc to feature Amy as the lead character, 2021's Trial by Fire arc, prominently features a sequence where she reads fortunes while camping with the girls. The Origins version of Sonic CD now bookends the game with scenes of Amy and her tarot cards. Sonic randomly mentioned it in a scene in Frontiers. And now, just this week, we got the (very cute, gorgeously illustrated) Amy's 30th Anniversary comic with a story revolving around Amy's tarot cards, followed the very next day by the Frontiers DLC in which she gets a brand new tarot-based moveset. Even her base melee attack now has her throwing tarot cards instead of swinging her hammer. Again, I like all of these individual things, but after years of it almost never coming up at all, it's VERY noticeable that Amy's tarot cards are suddenly everywhere.

To be fair, I'm looking at this from the perspective of a superfan who's actively following ALL Sonic media. Casual fans - especially kids - aren't necessarily going to be reading the comics every month, buying the thousandth rerelease of the Genesis games, or playing the ultra-hard new alternate ending DLC for a game that came out last year. Each of these stories is going to be someone's introduction to the idea that Amy can read tarot, and that's probably part of the idea behind this unified push.

But to play devil's advocate, for my fellow superfans, I understand why it feels like a very minor footnote of Amy's character is suddenly becoming the entire focus of her personality. While Amy has always been said to enjoy fortune telling, that wasn't really a character trait in and of itself, but rather an example of her being a typical girl who hopes she'll be able to find true love one day. It's less that Amy can literally predict the future and more like her using a cootie catcher or going "he loves me, he loves me not" while picking the petals off of a flower. So I get not vibing with this stuff, or feeling like it's being pushed very hard out of nowhere.

What I don't agree with are comparisons like "it's like if they made Knuckles' moveset revolve around him liking grapes." Like, I get it. Ian Flynn loves shoehorning in his little winking references for us nerds, and mentions of Amy's tarot cards were previously on the same level as other random bullet points from old Japanese manuals. But a multifaceted hobby like fortune telling that opens up so many narrative and aesthetic possibilities is obviously very different from having a favorite food. It's ALWAYS been a part of her story, not just a random fact, and there's no reason why the fortune telling can't be elevated to something more.

And, hell, even if it wasn't an established character trait, there's nothing inherently wrong with injecting new ideas into a character. One of the best Amy stories in recent years, the Free Comic Book Day special "Amy's New Hobby" written by Gale Galligan, came up with the idea that Amy's secretly been drawing little comics about her and her friends. Is this based on Lore? No. But it's cute, and helps tell the story of a younger Amy who's still coming out of her shell as both a hero and a friend.

Certain fans are also looking at Amy's Frontiers moveset and using it as evidence that once again the Vile American Contributors like Ian are CORRUPTING Sonic Team's perfect vision of Sonic with their misinterpretations. And like. Come on. Ian does not control the gameplay. He's a freelance writer. The tarot stuff is clearly something that Sonic Team likes if they made it the basis of Amy's new moveset - and, you know, if they keep approving comics and animations about Amy's fortune telling. None of this gets made without their blessing, and lord knows how much they can micromanage shit and shoot down ideas over the most minor of details.

Like, yeah, Amy's fortune telling was probably conceived less as a sign that she Knows Magic and more as a pretty mundane hobby for a lovesick young Japanese girl to have. But you're gonna sit there and tell me that using Amy's tarot cards for more than that could only be the result of a cultural misunderstanding? That nobody in Japan uses tarot card theming and aesthetics (or the general idea of magical cards) for the cool factor? Stardust Crusaders? Persona? The Astrologian class in FFXIV? Cardcaptor Sakura?? Hello??? Do you think Capcom put Gambit in Marvel vs. Capcom ironically because they thought using magic to throw cards at people was stupid? There's tons of precedent for this! It's nothing like Knuckles throwing grapes at people, be for real.

Giving Amy a very magical girl-esque moveset also just makes a lot of sense. For decades her hammer attacks have literally made sparkly heart shapes appear around her. Leaning into both that and her tarot cards in her new moveset makes a lot of sense to me.

But, admittedly... I do think it's very odd that her hammer is treated as a secondary element here, rather than having her primarily use her hammer and adding the cards for extra flair. If hitting the attack button made her swing her hammer instead of throwing cards, I'm not sure we'd even be having this discussion right now.

But the tarot-cycle and Amy riding her hammer like a witch's broom are fucking SICK and I will not concede on this point

The thing is, this whole fortune card discourse is but a small piece of a bigger problem. Amy's been a character who needed some work for ages, but there's basically nothing you can do with her without pissing SOMEONE off.

Years of stories where Amy's crush was her primary motivator and Sonic went "Ew, cooties!" have lead many casual fans to believe that being Sonic's obsessive fangirl is Amy's entire personality. At best people might call her Sonic's Minnie Mouse. This isn't just a matter of Amy having haters within the fandom - venture outside of that bubble and you'll realize that this is how MOST video game playing people seem to see her to this day. I don't feel like this is a fair assessment of the character, but this idea didn't come from nowhere. No matter how much good deeply entrenched Sonic fans may see in their old dynamic where Amy perpetually chases Sonic, this is a very real problem that Sonic Team has to contend with for their leading girl. Of course all those games where the way-past-cool protagonist thought Amy was annoyingly clingy and tried to get away from her made people think less of her.

If new stories were to go back to emphasizing Amy's crush on Sonic a little more, they'd probably be taken as confirmation that Amy's just the girl with a crush on Sonic and that this is her entire personality. Conversely, when the crush is played down, you piss off the hardcore SonAmy fans who don't seem to understand that they're Charlie Brown and Sega is Lucy holding the football. You can't win.

And so here we are. In the absence of what was once her defining trait, now reduced to an occasional blush or wink in Sonic's direction, new stories are trying to mine Amy's past for additional material to work with. Having been a thing fans wanted to see for years, right now we're getting a lot of tarot, but we're also getting reminders of her compassionate nature and her desire to go out of her way to help the little guy. This is an ongoing process. I continue to hope that her bubbly, exuberant demeanor can shine more in future stories. Now, I also hope that the tarot stuff gets balanced out a little better with other traits of hers. But I don't want it to go away. I think it's fun.

This course correcting is far from exclusive to Amy. Knuckles is getting stories that remind us that he's a competent fighter, an experienced treasure hunter, and even a self-taught archaeologist after years of him being perceived as either the dumb one or just the guy who stands in front of the Master Emerald all day. And Tails has been getting some stories reminding folks that he's a capable hero in his own right and not just Sonic's timid kid sidekick.

But no supporting character will ever compete with the sheer number of new ideas Sega has tried with Sonic himself. Like Amy, his Frontiers moveset has also given him half a dozen new superpowers that he never had before, from the Cyloop to air-slicing projectile attacks to his own take on Shadow Clone Jutsu and beyond. He's also been a hoverboarder, a swordsman, a time traveler, an Olympic athlete, a racecar driver, cursed with a Flame of Judgment, imbued with alien power, a fucking Werehog with stretchy powers, and on and on and on.

If Sonic can do all that, Amy can try out using a tarot-cycle.

Anyway TL;DR the REAL problem with Amy's current characterization... is where the FUCK is Amy's bestie, Honey the Cat???????

#tkp post

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bugs1nmybrain · 11 months ago

Note

Well now I think you should totally give us a version of Somnophilia where L gets woken up to female reader giving him a blowjob which leads to drowsy early morning sex.

Only if you want to though ^^

Sleeping Beauty pt. 2 - L Lawliet x Fem!Reader: Morning Sex

Author's Notes: This has been in my asks for MONTHS. I think it is time :0. I'm very sorry that I haven't been writing as many fics lately, I have been very very busy. I hate it ;(

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

Warnings: fem-reader, somnophilia/morning sex, smut (18+), oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, a cheesy joke at one point that ruins the mood, cowgirl position, reader doesn't cum but implied to after the story, not proofread

Notes about the reader: female reader, described as having small hands

Extra note: I realize I lied and originally said there were no pronouns used and totally forgot that he uses a gendered term at the end. I'm so sorry!!!!

The heat of the rising sun cracked on L's face, contrasting with the cool breeze of the room's AC. L was known for his insomniac drive, but even he was human. After many days of not sleeping, he'd start to see shadowy figures out of the corner of his eye and occasionally the sound of the bell would pay a visit. That's when he knew he had to sleep. He usually would doze off and like the snap of a finger wake up again, only it would somehow be over half a day later.

The heat of the sun on his face was comforting, considering every other part of his body, especially his feet, was so chilly that he felt like rotting in this bed. The bed that you insisted he sleeps in, otherwise he would've been out in his desk chair and it would likely fall over at some point.

The sleep-drunk and chilly state he was in was so heavy that he had hardly noticed that another part of his body was feeling warm. And wet. He recognized the feeling well, and the mouth that was attached. He peeked down to see just as he suspected.

L never grew tired of seeing you. Through all the hyperboles he told you about how stunning you were, somewhere in there was a genuineness that he struggled to accept. Not because he didn't care for you, but because he did so much. So much that he was afraid something abrupt would eventually happen and he'd lose you, and lose this connection that he secretly craved.

Though, those deep-seated worries could surely wait. He looked down through lidded eyes, watching as you had your small hand wrapped around the base of his cock and trying your best to accommodate his cock in your mouth. Your eyes were also lidded with your eyelashes looking beautiful as you traveled your soft lips against his length. He could tell that you hadn't even noticed that he was awake.

As you trailed your tongue up his cock with your eyes still closed, he sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. You continued your movements up and down his cock, pulling back his foreskin to get to the sensitive skin under.

"A-ah!" L shuddered quietly. His sudden noise startled you and your mouth moved off of him with a quick "pop". He grunted at the absence of your mouth and looked down at you. The sight of your flushed, wet lips and alertness struck a chord in him, making his cock throb under your hand.

"Is this your way of getting me back?" he chuckled, reaching his hand down to pet your hair.

You grinned shyly with your answer, "An eye for an eye."

Without giving him many options to respond, you continued bobbing your head on his cock. You used your tongue to slide along his base as you guided yourself. L's leg jolted slightly at the sensitivity, and he continued to sigh in pleasure while gently holding onto your scalp.

"Fuck, y/n.." he whispered under his breath.

"Mhm~"

You were certainly eager, though you felt your throat struggle as you attempted to take all of his cock down. You tried to be pornographic, but your gag reflex soon kept you humble and you choked unexpectedly.

You moved away from his cock and coughed, holding the back of your hand to your mouth to conceal yourself. L felt himself grow even more aroused at your attempts to please him beyond your comfort, and the tears that wallowed from it. Though, he was not going to tell you that.

"Hey, how about you come up here, hm?" L rubbed your head, looking at you now with his 69% awake face. You nodded and crawled up to rest beside him.

"I wanted to finish that," you say, disappointed in yourself.

"That's alright. Practice makes progress. I don't want you to hurt yourself," L reassured you, placing his hand at your waist to pull you closer. He kissed your cheek, which was hot to the touch. "Let's try something different."

He pulled at your t-shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him and shortly after, your panties as well.

"Can I ride you?" you ask.

"Hm?" L questions, still tired. "Oh. Yes, of course. Do as you wish, darling."

You beamed him a smile and steadily rested yourself on top of him. You worried if you were heavy, considering he was noticeably frail and light. L seemed to be able to tell what you were thinking as you looked puzzled on top of him.

"You're alright. Keep going."

Taking his cock in your hand, you adjusted yourself upwards and slowly began sinking down on him.

"Mmm.." L tilted his head back, absolutely enthralled by the view.

You moaned as well, moving yourself to grind on top of his cock, feeling up your sensitive cunt. L's hands rubbed up from your thighs to your hips, relishing in your wet pussy and the way your body moved on top of him. Your body was enough on its own to make him pre, but the lust on your face, lust that he knew was for him, made him feel better.

The sounds filling the room were overwhelming. You could both feel yearning waves of pleasure riding through your bodies, engrossed by each other's sex. Your body's rhythm bouncing on top of him made you feel incredible, with L's face flushed pink and a bit of sweat covering his forehead.

"Mmfh..y/n, I'm close," he groaned, gripping onto your waist. He pulled you down onto him each time you lifted up, trying to feel your sleeve as much as he could.

"You can. Please cum for me.."

More moans and whines exited your throat as the sensation of his cock, hands, and sounds drove your libido rampant. And L could say the same for you.

"Mmmm~!" you squealed out in pleasure. L lost composure and you could feel his hips thrust up into you as he shook.

"Awh.." His hands gripped your sides as he came deep and heavy in you, his body falling limp otherwise as he remained inside of you as you both tried to recover.

"You're incredible," he hummed with a gentle smile. You giggled and lifted up, falling down beside him. You snuggled your arms around him and gripped onto his shirt (he kept it on, he does a lot during sex).

"No you," you retaliate.

"Mhm, if you say so," he looked over at you holding him close and placed a kiss to your temple. "You didn't cum."

"Oh."

"Let me fix that," he rubbed your shoulder as he said so.

"You don't have to," you say and his fingers already begin trailing in between your legs.

"Please, indulge me. Besides, as you said, "an eye for an eye." What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

"A normal boyfriend," you joked.

"Well, I've never been known to be normal. Neither have you. Be a good girl and let me play with you, alright?

Here's a song that's appropriate for this fic lol

#l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet smut #l lawliet x reader smut #l lawliet x fem reader

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prodagustd · 5 months ago

Text

the road not taken 05 | myg

part five: new year's eve

Summary: The timer is counting down and it's finally time to confront Yoongi.

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn, angst, FLUFF ❤️‍🩹, eventual smut, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, mentions of sex 👀Btw english is not my first language!

—words: 12.2k

—a/note: hi friends!!! i know i said i was going to go crazy with the word count but i had to divide the chapter because this part was going to have 25k words otherwise?? anyway!!! i went through ten different mental breakdows while writing this, i doubted myself like fifty times, but i enjoyed writing it sososo much, i hope you enjoy reading it as well!! like always, you are invited to discuss this part in the asks, feedback is always welcomed 🤠.

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve.

You had lost count of the amount of times Minnie rolled her eyes, groaned or threw her hands in the air in the last two hours, but you were sure it was the same amount of times that you closed your eyes and sighed, trying to remain calm. She was sitting at the desk of your room, finishing her make-up for the New Year’s party as she listened to you list every detail of the last time you saw Yoongi, two days ago.

Minnie, not minding being hyperbolic, openly expressed that she thought that “Yoongi was a psychopath” for inviting to watch When Harry Met Sally, a movie whose main premise were two friends who are in love with each other but do not realize it. Then she proceeded to call him similar things, like he was crazy for grabbing your hand on the way home and borderline insane for not kissing you when he left you at the door of your home. You tried to agree with her, but you were too busy trying to keep your food down, fearing that you might vomit at the thought of confronting Yoongi tonight.

Needless to say, you were nervous. You had promised Minnie that, for your own sake, you would finally tell Yoongi to stop playing games and tell you what he really wanted with you tonight. You invited him to the party, hoping he would turn you down, thinking he probably had better plans with other friends, but he said yes, and now you were obligated to stand up to him.

“This is not my size.” You complained, observing yourself in the mirror as you pulled from the hem of your dress, attempting to cover your butt.

Your friend looked away from the tiny mirror in her hands to scan your body. You turned around, showing her the tiny black dress she let you borrow.

Minnie looked at you like you were joking. “It literally fits you like a glove.” She said, standing up from her seat to take a better look at you.

The dress was fine, it hugged your waist, your hips and every good part of your body, but you were too aware of it, you weren’t used to wearing dresses like this.

“What about my boobs?” You asked, covering up your chest with your hands.

“What about them? They look beautiful!” She exclaimed, and grabbed your hands to out them away.

You laughed “Aren’t they too out?”

“They’re perfectly out.” She responded, taking a good look at them “Like, enough, not too much and not too little, you know? If I had your boobs, I would display them just like that.”

You smiled like that was the biggest compliment a girl could ever hear. “Thank you Minnie.” You said, a little more relieved “I don’t know what I would do without you here.”

“You would be completely lost, I’m telling you.” She said, grabbing her jacket from her bed and her bag “Are we ready to go now?”

You reached for your phone, hoping to find a message from Yoongi saying that he was already here but it was not necessary, a second later you heard the motor of his car being parked in front of your house.

“That’s him.” You informed your friend, making her jump in her place like a little kid.

“Fine, let’s waste no time.”

You grabbed your jacket, already knowing it would be of no use in the freezing cold of the night, and left your house to meet Yoongi.

When you closed the door, you heard Minnie let out a little gasp, which made you look up at her.

"What?" you asked her, feeling her elbow dig into your ribs as she pointed at the sidewalk with her chin.

You turned around, meeting the sight of Yoongi, casually leaned over his car as he waited for you in the dark night. He was wearing his long black coat with his signature shirt, this time in black, his hair was slightly messy, the way you’ve always liked, and when he caught the first glimpse of your face he smiled, waving at you.

“Oh, my…” Minnie sighed, bringing her hand up to her face, fanning herself. “Is that the man who’s taking you home tonight?”

"Shut up," You muttered through gritted teeth, waving back at Yoongi.

“Is your mom coming home tonight, sweetheart?” She kept going “If I were you, I would tell her to stay somewhere else. You know, in case you and your boy…”

“Minnie, he’s gonna hear you.” You warned her, but she just laughed.

Still, in the back of your mind, you considered Minnie’s concern; no, your mom wasn’t coming home tonight, but you didn’t need to be thinking about that at all.

“Looking nice, ladies.” said Yoongi as you were making your way to his car.

“Likewise, gentleman.” Minnie answered “Do we have a resolution for the new year?”

Yoongi smirked, “Yes, we do.”

Your friend clicked her tongue, winking at you both and got into the back seat of Yoongi’s car, leaving the two of you alone.

There was a moment of silence, like he was waiting to hear the sound of the car door closing, and then, he whistled. “You’re all dolled up.” He noted, sneaking his hand under your jacket and grabbing you by your waist over your dress, pulling you closer to him.

“Is that bad?” You frowned, pretended to be annoyed.

“Maybe.” He considered “What if someone tries to steal my date?”

You snorted, softly punching his chest. “Oh, shut up.” You sassed “I can’t get rid of you, I’ve tried already.”

Yoongi bit his bottom lip, failing to hide a smile. “You look very pretty, that’s all I’m saying.”

By now, you’d think you could handle these kinds of comments—his lingering touches, or the way his eyes seemed to silently ask for a kiss—but you couldn’t. Your heart still jumped, your palms still grew sweaty, and your face still burned. Yet, you forced a smile as if you’d heard it a thousand times from countless men, as if he was nothing special.

“Well, you don’t look too bad yourself.” You patted him on the back, pulling away from him to go around the car to the passenger seat.

Yoongi’s gaze trailed over you as he turned to face you across the roof of the car, his eyes following every movement.

“By the way,” He wondered, stopping you before you could open the door “What do you mean that you’ve tried?”

You stopped for a moment, trying to understand what he meant, but you were immediately reminded of your previous comment. How clueless he was, he had no idea the amount of times you tried to exile him from your life with no success, the thought of him always crawled back to you as if he belonged there. Tonight you should be in your bed, or going to some other party to drink your weight in alcohol to try to fulfill the purpose of banishing him from your mind, but, like a thousand times before, you were with him.

You ignored his question, bursting into laughter as you got inside the car.

Yoongi stood there for a moment, hearing the echoes of your laugh across the street, tempted to chase the sound. What a shame, if you hadn't gotten into the car so quickly, you might have seen the stars reflecting in his eyes, the look that only a fool would mistake for anything other than love.

Present

The thing about small towns like yours was that they hardly ever changed—like the park in front of Minnie’s apartment, with its wooden benches and the path of trees leading to the fountain in the center, which had stopped working years ago. The never changing look of your hometown was one of the main things that made you want to leave it behind, it was ridiculous to admit how relieved you were now that everything was still the same as the last time you were here.

You set your bags down on the floor of your friend’s home and gazed out the window, watching the wind drag yellow and orange leaves, swirling them across the street until they crashed against the tall wooden doors of a building you recognized as The Alley. You remembered how, when you were younger, Minnie used to live fifteen minutes from there, but once she became an adult, she jumped at the chance to move directly across the street, staying as close as she could. You figured that people in small towns hardly ever changed either.

There was not much difference between the Minnie you knew when you were a teenager and the Minnie you knew in the present, she was still always at The Alley, except she was the one who called the shots nowadays. Over the years she gained the trust of the owners and now she was in charge of keeping everything in order, helping organize every activity and every area every day of the week, so you frowned when you saw that it was closed, especially in October, which was the most exciting month in The Alley; the Halloween plays, the Halloween movies and the Halloween parties were your favorite part of the year.

“Is The Alley closed?” You asked, turning around to see Minnie as she stuck her head in her fridge trying to look for something to eat. Your friend let you stay at her apartment for as long as you needed; it was the least she could do, considering she always crashed at your place in the city and acted like it was her own whenever she had to work there.

“Uh… yeah. It’s a whole thing.” She sighed. “It has all of us stressed out.”

“Why, what happened?” You walked over to her, sitting on one of the stools of her kitchen.

“The building’s having some issues with its infrastructure for some time now and it’s costing a lot of money.” She explained, grabbing a cup of yogurt and a spoon to place it in front of you as if that were dinner. “We thought it was just a few things, like the electricity and the plumbing, but the more we look into it, the more problems we find.”

Your frown deepened, more confused than before. The Alley had been an old building for years and years, there was always a thing or two that had to be repaired, but you never thought it was that bad. “That’s why it’s closed?” You continued to ask.

“That’s not the only reason. We had three inspections since the beginning of the year and none of them looked any good, we’re suspecting the town council might want to close it.” She rolled her eyes, but you could feel the hurt in her words.

“Close it?” You repeated it, feeling something stung in your chest “Just like that? Is it that bad?”

“Well, yes.” She affirmed, trying to appear composed but the discouragement filled her voice “Unless we fix the whole place, of course, but the repairs cost too much, so it’s going to take some time.”

“That sounds ridiculous, Minnie. What does Sid think?” You inquired. Sid was one of the owners of The Alley and the only one who was active in the community, he trusted Minnie with the management of the place more than anyone else.

“That prick.” She bitterly spat “Don’t even mention him, he’s acting like a jerk lately, he’s too old and too tired of running the place, he’s leaving everything to me. I’m trying to handle it with some other people but it’s too much. That’s why we’re closed, we’re opening just three days a week but that’s slowing down the process of collecting money.”

“Oh, Minnie. That’s horrible.” You lamented “Why am I just finding out about this now? Why didn't you tell me anything?”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, it’s not your fault.” She tried to wave off “You were busy and too sad to hear any of my problems, I didn’t want to bother with stupid stuff.”

“What are you talking about?” You said, shaking your head “It’s not stupid, are you nuts? I could never be too busy or sad to hear you. How come you’ve been carrying all of this without telling me?”

The feeling of guilt flooded your chest, filling with regret your whole body. You knew you were being a bad sister and a bad daughter, but you didn’t realize you were being a bad friend as well. If closing The Alley sounded horrible to you, you couldn’t imagine how bad must’ve felt for Minnie, who had dedicated most of her life to the place.”

“I mean it, baby, you don’t have to feel bad.” She assured you, squeezing your hand “My head’s been a mess lately, I was going to tell you eventually.”

“But it’s not okay, Minnie.” You insisted. “You could’ve told me how you were feeling, I mean, The Alley is your whole life, there has to be another way.”

“Yes, that’s what I keep telling myself, there has to be another way! And I’m trying to think of one, but when I think I’m close to finding a solution, my head starts to smoke.” She huffed.

You felt your heart clenching, Minnie was always trying to see the good side of things, you’ve never seen her so let down about something, especially something she cared about deeply. You both went silent, processing all the information for a minute. You wished you could do something, not only for your friend, but for the place where you had grown up, you couldn’t phantom the idea of The Alley disappearing, it was home of so many outcasts, it was your home for most of your teenage years, you felt like part of you was still on those walls.

“Have you thought about talking with a lawyer?” You asked, like some lightbulb lighted up above your head. “You know, I can talk with my brother if you’d like, he could help you save time.”

Minnie’s expression suddenly changed, she raised her eyebrows and slightly opened her mouth in surprise, but it wasn’t because of your offering, it was for something else, you just didn’t know what.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t worry, it’s not necessary.” She rushed to say.

“How come it is not necessary?” You questioned. “Minnie, a lawyer is essential for this kind of stuff. I’m sure that Simon could give you some advice, if the situation is not good he could arrange a meeting with the council or something like that.”

You could see her doubting, the hesitating look on her face, looking at her hands as she tried to say something but couldn’t.

“You know that money is not a problem, I could talk to him about it.” You insisted, assuming that money was the reason for her doubt, she already said that they were struggling with the repair, you assumed that hiring a lawyer was too expensive to even consider.

Minnie pursed her lips, “It’s not about the money, actually.” She said, looking away from you. “And thank you, baby, it’s just that… uhm, we already consulted a lawyer.”

You sat straight in your chair “Oh, really?” You uttered, surprised. “What did they say?”

Your friend stood up from her seat, wandering around the kitchen while looking for something in the cabinets “He’s going through the documents for now, handling the legal stuff.” She trailed off, and you felt she was leaving something out. No, you didn’t understand a thing about law, but you could use a bit more information about the situation.

“How did you meet him?” You asked, curious. “Do you know if he’s any good? You know, I don’t trust lawyers.”

Your comment meant to be a joke, but the girl in front of you didn’t seem to catch it. Her tone suddenly changed “The only reason we have a lawyer is because it is a voluntary thing, so we don’t have to pay him. Otherwise, we would be lost, we couldn’t possibly afford a lawyer.” She went on, avoiding your question.

“A voluntary thing? You mean he is doing it for free?” You frowned, dismissing the fact that she didn’t answer what you asked, or even laughed at your attempt at a joke. “Why?”

“He’s from… here and really likes the place, I guess.”

“He’s from here and really likes the place?” You repeated, confused, you didn’t know many lawyers, but you were sure that was not reason enough to work for free. Minnie just hummed, not caring much to explain. “Do I know him?” The question resonated in the room, followed by a dead silence. As your friend pretended to be busy, taking the glasses out of the dishwasher and putting them back in their place, your words hung in the air, unanswered. “Minnie?”

“Yes?” You heard her voice.

“Who is he?” You asked again, but your gut told you that you already had an answer for that.

She turned back, looking at you with a warning look. “If I tell you, are you going to be mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” You questioned, already feeling upset. You knew way too many reasons to be mad at that question.

“I’m not telling you, then.” She said, taking your answer as a yes.

“If you don’t tell me who you hired as a lawyer, I will start screaming.” You threatened like a little kid, pointing at her with the spoon as if it were a gun.

“Okay, no need to scream.” She tried to persuade you.

“Minnie…”

“I’ll tell you, but you must know that it wasn’t my decision alone.” Minnie took a step back from you, with her hands in the air. “And that I would have never said yes if we had to pay him, we barely have any money! How could I say no? Besides, he helps on the weekends with the repairs, he’s great with plumbing and everyone likes him, the guys adore him, the girls love him, everyone had already agreed before I could say a word, you understand-?

“Minnie!” You stopped her, waving your hands in the air “You are rambling, what are you saying?”

The redhead in front of you took a deep breath, composing herself. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” She breathed out “It’s just that Yoongi offered to advise us for free, and then he went on to…-”

The name ringed in your ears the same way it did when you mother mentioned the dinner the other night, the same way it did when you brother couldn’t stop mentioning his name the night you stayed at his house, the same way his voice interrupted the silence when he came looking for you in your mother’s backyard, only this time it came from your best friend’s mouth.

“Yoongi!?” You suddenly yelled, making her flinch. “What do you mean by Yoongi!?”

Minnie took another step back, afraid that you would use the spoon in your hand to take her eyes out.

“God, don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded, with her hands clasped together and her fingers intertwined as if she was begging for forgiveness.

You crossed your arms over your chest, shaking your head in disbelief. One thing was not to tell you of the fact that the town wanted to close The Alley because she was stressed and too tired to talk about it, and a completely different thing was not telling you that Yoongi, the only man who ever broke your heart, was involved, trying to ignore the fact that it was the place where you grew up. You couldn’t believe your friend didn’t tell you that Yoongi was trying to help to save the place that was directly connected to you and him.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

“No, that was not the reason.” She tried to deny, but the second you raised an eyebrow, she backtracked “I mean, not at first, but I was telling the truth!”

“Half the truth!” You accused her.

“Okay, fine!” She threw her hands in the air, resigned. “Half the truth, I admit it.”

“But why?” You insisted.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart” She cried “ I don’t know… I was afraid you wouldn’t like the idea of him being involved in it.”

“I mean, it doesn’t sound thrilling, but I would want to know that it was happening, I don’t care if Yoongi was helping you with it.”

“I know, I know…” She trailed off, but there was still something she was keeping from you. Her gaze was fixed on her hands, she didn’t dare to look you in the eye. “It’s just…”

“What?” You kept asking “C’mon, Minnie… You don’t seriously think I’m still hurt by it, do you?”

The words came out of your mouth afraid to sound unsure, and the look she gave you finished to confirm it.

“Well, no-”

“Are you kidding? It’s been years, how could you think I’m still resentful?”

She raised an eyebrow the same way you did a second ago to accuse her, wondering if you were joking or not. “Don’t play dumb with me, you hate his guts.”

“I don’t hate his guts.” You scoffed, doing a very bad job at lying. In front of you there was the same woman who saw you crying for Yoongi all those years ago, the only person who you could talk shit about him with, you couldn’t pretend you were suddenly the most forgiving person when she was the only one who knew how much he hurt you.

Minnie laughed, making it clear that she didn’t believe you one word. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, maybe I still hate his guts.” You conceded “But that doesn’t mean I can’t tolerate him.”

You could feel Minnie’s eyes scanning every feature of your face, you could feel the weight of her doubt in the air. How could you convince her that you weren’t annoyed by Yoongi helping her when you didn’t even know the answer yourself? “Is that right?” She said, taking a step closer to you. You just nodded, but you didn’t know if that was even true. “So you wouldn’t mind, let’s say, being in the same room as him?”

“Of course not.” You replied right away, trying to appear confident. “Wasn’t I in the same room as him just a few days ago?”

“Yes, you were, you’re right.” She acknowledged “In that case, let’s say I believe you.”

“Yes, because I’m telling the truth.” You said in the same condescending tone she was using.

“And let’s say that I believe that you are more than capable of putting aside everything that happened between you and Yoongi just for the sake of The Alley.”

“That’s right.” You nodded, with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And if I were to ask you to help me with The Alley because you’re famous and you would help us raise a bunch of money, would you say yes even if Yoongi is there, helping too?”

You scoffed, a nervous laugh escaped you, thinking she was joking. But as you scanned her face for even the slightest hint of jest, a cold realization settled in your gut—she was completely serious.

“You have to call my agent for that kind of stuff, you know that?” You tried to joke, but she was not backing down.

“I’m not joking!” She pleaded “I was planning to ask you for a long time, but I didn’t know that you would want to do it since Yoongi is always around, but if you’re telling me you don’t care about him…”

You close your eyes shut. “It’s not only Yoongi- I mean, it’s not about him at all” You corrected yourself “I would love to help The Alley in all the ways I can, but I’m not sure if I want to play the superstar role right now.”

She nodded, immediately understanding “It’s fine, I get it, but I’m not asking you to play the superstar role, I’m asking you to be the girl I knew all my life, the one who’s passionate about theater and loves The Alley as much as me.”

A genuine smile spread across your face, feeling a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. “And the girl who’s also famous and would help you raise a bunch of money?”

She scoffed, “Well, you happen to be all of that too, isn’t that great?” You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smile. “Look, I’m not saying that you should say yes right now, but you should at least go with me this friday and I can show you some of my ideas, what do you say?”

Friday was just four days away, that was not enough time for you to decide anything, but because you loved Minnie, and you loved The Alley, and honestly, because you didn’t have anything better to do, you agreed to think about it, only for now. “Fine, Friday it is.”

Four years ago.

New Year’s eve.

The last night of the year always felt as if something was about to change, even if it never did. You clung to that feeling of hope, as if time were real, as if the sun and the stars ruled your life and you weren’t the only one capable of controlling it, at least that way you weren’t able to blame yourself for feeling like something was missing when you came home at six in the morning, drunk and hopeless.

Change, future, and love were becoming curse words in your vocabulary, and if you saw a shooting star tonight, you would wish to forget any meaning you had ever learned about them. But if you stood in the street tonight, shaking in the cold winter air as you looked up at the dark sky, waiting for someone to give you all the answers, you feared your life would be wasted. Your life wasn’t ruled by the stars, it was ruled by you, it was about time for you to realize.

Tonight you didn’t need the universe to tell you what to do, what you needed was a drink or two to gather the courage to confront Yoongi, but the second you entered the silver room with the silver lights, you heard some sappy song from the 2000’s and for a second you almost forgot about his hands holding yours, or perhaps you were just desperately trying to.

“C’mon,” He called you, grabbing your hand to walk you to the dance floor “you must dance! Or they’ll kick you out.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, but followed him as he made his way through the sea of people to reach the center of the dance floor. The room was packed, it smelled like cigarettes, weed and perfume mixed together, there was a huge contrast between the cold weather outside and the heavy and humid air from inside. Minnie was lost somewhere else, she was part of the committee that organized the party and wanted to check that everything was exactly as she planned it, so you and Yoongi were now alone, again.

Time spent with Minnie had a way of dissolving the anxieties that once clung to you when you first visited The Alley after coming home, you were no longer afraid of being recognized, in fact, when you came here the other day to watch When Harry Met Sally and some old friends recognized you, you didn’t try to run away, you took a second to hug them and catch up, you were also surprised to find out that none of them hated you like your imagination made you believe they did. Turns out, people grow up and grow apart and there was nothing bad with that. It was always a desire of yours to run away from this town, but only if you could make sure that you could return to The Alley anytime you wanted, it was a relief to know that now you could.

You had missed it, the parties, the music, the ten disco balls on the ceiling and those moments where the room was so dark no one could see how badly you were dancing, except those few lights that were were still shining in your eyes the same way your dress did every time Yoongi twirled you around. He didn’t miss any of that, he was paying attention, he observed your eyes, your nose, your lips, the way the straps of your dress rested gently on your collarbones, your body and your waist, his hands on your hips, how he couldn’t keep them away from you and how you wished you could just ignore it.

Yoongi was not shy, he was never shy when you were alone and tonight, even if you were in a room full with people, it felt like you were. He was dancing like you were the only one watching him, he laughed, he winked at you and drew you closer to him to whisper things in your ear in the middle of songs. You danced in the only way you knew: shamelessly, and when Yoongi said he needed some air you promised him to go outside with him for a moment, you were sweaty, your hair was sticking to the back of your neck and you knew you needed to check your lipstick in a mirror, but only after finishing dancing to Rock ‘N’ Roll Star by Oasis.

If there was a way in the universe that could stop the turmoil of your mind, that would be dancing, and it was working like a charm.

When the song was about to end, you began making your way out of the dance floor, but you immediately changed your mind when you heard the first chords of Sex on Fire blasting from the speakers. You stopped in your tracks, yanking Yoongi’s hand and making his body crash into yours.

“Stop!” You yelled “We can’t not dance to this song.”

“Pinky…” He whined, trying to complain, but you were already beginning to walk backwards, intertwining your fingers with his.

“You have to dance with me!” You insisted “You know this one!”

His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, the kind that could only promise trouble.

How lucky you were that Minnie wasn’t around. If she had seen the way you were looking at Yoongi at that moment, she would have slapped you in the face to snap you out of it. You were aware that you had an initial plan and that you weren’t anywhere near to pulling it off, you were aware that you were running off of excuses and that time wasn’t going to be on your side for much longer, but was it too much to ask for a few more moments like this? Those glimpses of something else, those evanescent instants where you didn’t have to wonder why you were dancing to this song with someone who was supposed to be your friend, with his lips threatening to brush with yours, his fingertips on your back, and his gaze fixed on you. You could hear your heart begging you to kiss him and your mind pleading you not to, but the only thing you understood was the way Yoongi sang each word to your face, so close you could explode.

You giggled and jumped to the rhythm of the song and sang back, forgetting all the words you practiced with Minnie, and all the things Minnie said and all the things you promised to do tonight. If you were to put an end to this now, you could at least have this moment.

“What is that?” Yoongi asked, observing you approaching him with a drink in your hands.

Going back to your own words, you hadn’t had much to drink tonight, you were too busy dancing or maybe it was the unbearable knot in your stomach that didn’t allow you to even think of alcohol before ending up throwing up. Ultimately, you decided to stay sober, this was only your second drink of the night and it was offered by Minnie, who you just encountered at the bar a few minutes ago. She yelled at the bartender, ordering a drink for both you and Yoongi. With a wink, she added two straws to the cup and playfully nudged you back towards the dance floor.

“It’s sex on the beach.” You mumbled without making eye contact with him. At least no one could say Minnie wasn’t funny. “A present from Minnie.”

“Two straws?” Yoongi said, leaning forward to sip the drink through one of the straws. “Isn’t she a matchmaker?”

Well, he had no idea.

“Buddy, if you want another drink you should buy it yourself.” You scoffed, drinking from the other straw. “You are the one who’s been drinking water the whole night.”

“I have plenty of things that I need to do tonight, I have to be sober.”

“Plenty of things?” You questioned “Like what?”

You joined Yoongi as he leaned against the wall, holding the cup between the two of you.

“Like driving you home.” He replied “What would Lila say about me if I show up drunk.”

“You never get drunk. You have the highest tolerance.” You laughed. “And even if you did, my mom would say that I was the one who got you drunk.”

“And maybe it would be true,” he snarked, leaning in with a playful grin, his lips brushing close to your ear. “I would tell her that you forced me to dance so much that the only way I could keep up was by drinking all the beer from the bar.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” you huffed, digging your elbow into his ribs to push him away. “But I bet she would believe anything you say.”

Yoongi smiled, cocky “I bet she would, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, taking another long sip of the drink before feeling your throat slightly burning. “What’s up with the slow music?”

You looked around, seeing a few couples slowly dancing in the middle of the room. The lights were red and Fade Into You by Mazzy Star was playing softly, the dance floor was less packed, you thought it could only mean it was about to be midnight.

You grabbed Yoongi’s wrist to draw it closer to your face so you could check the hour on his watch. “It’s about to be midnight.” You announced. “They start playing love songs before midnight.”

“Why love songs?” He questioned.

“So you can find the person you want to give your first kiss of the year.”

“Isn’t that a bit cheesy?” he teased, tilting his head with a smirk.

“Of course it is.” You said, chucking “That’s the point.”

Yoongi nodded and set his cup down on a nearby table, extending his hand toward you. “Fine, let’s dance then.”

You observed his hand extended to you, a bit hesitant. “You slow dance, too?”

“Tonight I do.” He revealed. You had no other option but to take his hand.

You’ve never been to a New Year’s party at The Alley, but since Minnie was heavily involved in the preparations you knew a thing or two about how it went down. When the lights turned yellow and Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer suddenly began playing, you knew you were just a few minutes away from the New Year.

You had never been much of a slow dancer, so you were not sure what to do, but Yoongi seemed to have no problem with it, he led the way without making you look pathetic. You knew he had more experience with romantic scenarios than you, and even if you’d had your share of romantic relationships, it all went down to boring boyfriends, bad boyfriends, and boys who didn’t want to be your boyfriend at all. As he laid his hands on your waist and his soft gaze upon you, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a romantic moment at all—nothing had ever been as close as this.

“So… did you have fun?” You asked him, grabbing his shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself steady.

“I am having fun.” He emphasized, “Why are you asking as if the night is already ending?”

“I don’t know.” You said, a playful glint in your eyes. “I guess because... I always get the feeling that you’re about to slip away.”

He raised an eyebrow, moving slowly to the rhythm, pulling you with him. “Slip away?” he wondered.

“Oh, you know, you’re the kind of guy who slips away.” You smiled softly, enjoying the look of confusion on his face.

“I don’t know what that means.” He laughed.

“I mean… the guy who people always expect but always leaves early.” You tried to explain, but that didn’t do much for Yoongi’s understanding.

“Do you think I always leave early?” He inquired, making you laugh.

“You leave early sometimes.” You confirmed “Most times.”

“Well, I don’t quite enjoy parties.” He confessed, but you already knew that. When you were younger, you always followed Simon to parties. He tried so hard not to get annoyed at his little sister; annoying him was supposed to be your job. And as fun as it sounded, you were never really there for Simon, but to catch a glimpse of his best friend. Of course you soon learned that hanging out with Yoongi at your house was much more entertaining than observing him flirting with the prettiest girl of the party just to watch him leave with her an hour later. If you ever found Yoongi at a party, it was most likely because Simon dragged him to it, you guessed you weren’t so different from your brother.

“What about this one?” You teased him “Are you leaving this party early?”

“Mmm, no.” He shook his head “I won’t be disappearing tonight.”

“Is that so?” You asked, and he nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment. “What’s different tonight?”

For an instant, Yoongi's gaze drifted around the room, as though searching for a reason to stay, before finally settling back on you.

“You, maybe.” He asserted calmly, his voice steady.

You laughed nervously, feeling your chest tighten. “What about me?”

“Nothing, you look really pretty.” He simply said. “I wouldn’t leave a party if you’re looking this pretty.”

Your breath got caught in your throat “Yoongi…” you whispered, but he could hear your voice just right.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“Stop that…” Your voice came out weak as you placed a hand on his chest, attempting to create some distance between your body and his. Yet, with his hand resting on your lower back, he gently drew you closer once again.

“Stop what?” he dared to ask,

That—this, whatever you had going on, whatever was happening between you and him—had gotten to a point of no return. All the cards seemed to be on the table, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to give a name to it. Yes, you could see it, you could feel it, but you were still afraid.

“Nothing, never mind,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

“C’mon, tell me,” he coaxed, cupping your cheek with one hand. A teasing smirk danced on his lips, making you want to punch him, but the hand you meant to push him away with gradually glided down his chest instead.

“That thing you’ve been doing.” You murmured, tilting your head to lean into his touch.

“What?” He scoffed, “What thing I’ve been doing?”

“Exactly that.” You pointed out. “Stop playing dumb with me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said with a mocking tone on his voice.

You slightly punch his chest with your fist “That, too.” You pouted, feeling his thumb grazing over your jaw. “You’re trying to drive me crazy, stop that.”

“Am I doing that?” He smirked, the amusement in his eyes clear as he watched for your reaction. “How exactly?”

“Don’t piss me off…” You threatened, as if your threats had any value when you were wrapped in his arms, when your voice sounded so weak.

“You’re incredible, really.” He said “Aren’t you the one who’s trying to drive me crazy?”

You blinked, clearly not grasping the situation.

“What are you talking about?” You demanded to know.

Yoongi bit his lip, holding back a smile “Pinky…” He said like it was obvious, but everything was a blur, a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you.

“Yoongi…” You spoke in the same tone as him.

“What? Am I insane or am I just imagining you pulling me in just to push me away later?” His words didn’t sound harsh, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice. You couldn’t help but frown deeply, bewildered.

“Are you serious? I’m not doing that.” You said, feeling your cheeks burn in embarrassment. The truth was that you weren’t even sure if you were doing that or not, but you were not willing to admit it. “You’re the one playing games with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in denial “I’m not playing any games with you.”

“Really?” You snickered, bitterly, but he was quick to deny it. “Not one?”

“No, not one.” He assured you, confidently.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What games am I playing, you say?”

“You know what I’m talking about.” You tried to dismiss it, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

“You are not being very communicative with me, Pinky.”

You scrunched your nose, it was only a matter of time for him to start annoying you “You…-”

“I?...”

You rolled your eyes. “You know what you did.”

“I actually, no, I don’t know what I did.” He jested.

“Yoongi, you tried to kiss me!” You blurted out, your words tumbling over each other. “Before Christmas, you tried to kiss me and a second later you acted like nothing happened.”

“No-” He tried to defend himself, but you were quick to interrupt him.

“Yes! You acted like I imagined everything.” You kept accusing, “You keep leaving me stranded, wondering if I just went mad!”

You felt your heart racing with each word you spoke, but Yoongi was unphased, completely calm, you could even see a glimpse of amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“Pinky, I did want to kiss you.” He admitted with a tranquil smile, as if sharing a simple truth “You weren’t imagining it, I wanted to kiss you so many times, I still do.”

It was like someone was playing a bad joke on you; the proximity of his face, the weight of his words, his gentle touch all over your body, it only made your breath hitch, your heart skip a beat, you felt like you were floating in the air in a different dimension, because this could not be real. It was like a force of habit, you couldn’t believe something good was happening to you even if it was right in front of your face.

“Then, why didn’t you do it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, surprised that you had mustered the courage to wonder that out loud. “Why didn’t you come looking for me after?”

“I always come back to you, are you kidding?” he replied, chuckling softly, though his gaze held an unexpected seriousness. “But you looked horrified, that day in your grandmother’s house you stormed out, you ran away, what was I supposed to do?”

You couldn’t recall that day without feeling a chill running down your whole body. The sole memory of your bodies pressing against each other, his deep voice, his dark eyes and the embarrassing moment when you had to open the door to find your mother standing there was enough to keep you awake at night. The only option you had was to run away, you thought it was only logical, but now you felt your whole face burning red as Yoongi accused you of running away from him.

“Well, because you…! “ you dug your finger into his chest, exasperatedly trying to find the right words to put on a good fight. “You confuse me!”

“Do I?” He mocked you. “Am I confusing you?”

“Yes, you do!” you argued, ignoring his implications “You say and do all these things, you grab my hand, ask me to run away with you, you try to kiss me and then-“

“And then what?” He snapped, making you swallow your words “And then I give in, don’t I?”

“No!” You protested, squinting your eyes. “You disappear, you come back, you leave, you leave me hanging, you confuse me. How can I know what it is when I don’t know what you want, when it seems that you don’t even know what you want?”

“I’m not trying to confuse you, I know exactly what I want.” He laughed without humor.

“And what’s that?” You demanded, frustration boiling over.

“Pinky, I know that there have been people around you that tried to make you believe that you weren’t good enough, but that it’s simply not me.” He said “I want you, is that so difficult to believe?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your thoughts were a mess. “That’s not- Thats…!” Your words tangled, and now you were barely making any sense.

“That’s the truth, I grab your hand, try to kiss you and when you push me away I come back home just to dream of you all night, convincing myself that I’m not completely insane.” He paused, his gaze locked onto yours, as if begging you to understand.

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as if that would somehow clear the storm of emotions swirling inside you. His confession was overwhelming, every word sinking into your chest. You felt your head spinning, you couldn’t process all those words, not when your heart was threatening to escape from your chest and his hands were still on your face, demanding you to look at him.

“Because that’s what I’ve been doing since last summer, asking myself if I lost my head” He continued “And, Pinky, that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that I have to be okay with it. Because I would rather watch you all night wearing that dress, wishing that I could take it off, than having nothing at all.”

A lump formed in your throat, your breath hitching as you tried to form a response, but no words came. You simply gulped, utterly speechless, trapped between disbelief and the wild beating of your heart.

“Yoongi…” you whined, barely managing to get his name past your lips. The words you needed were nowhere to be found.

And then, in the least convenient moment, the countdown started, the room filling with the sound of people shouting numbers.

He leaned in, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “What? What should I do, hm?” His lips grazed over yours, so soft that it felt like a question in itself.

“I can’t handle this,” you murmured, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to steady yourself. “This is too much. I can’t.”

He paused, his eyes searching yours, and then, as if trying to make sense of the situation, he asked softly, “Should I turn around and leave?”

You shook your head, quickly, repeatedly, without a second thought.

“Tell me, then.” He pressed, his voice almost a plea.

Still caught in the hazy blur of the moment, you could hear the countdown approaching its end, yet he still hadn’t pulled away. It felt as if you were under a spell, frozen in place, unable to move. You were breathing heavily, overwhelmed by the lights and the music and the people chanting, overwhelmed by his words, his body and his gaze fixed on your lips. The fleeting feeling that you were dreaming hit you for a second, but when everyone around you started counting four, that thought quickly vanishedYou heard three, and the realization that he was waiting for your response hit you like a bolt of lightning. You heard two and you got the feeling that if you didn’t do anything about it now, you wouldn’t do anything about it ever, you heard one and, against every rational thought, you pressed your lips against his, kissing him.

It was not a soft kiss, it was rushed, rough and messy. You closed your fists around his shirt, pulling him closer as he opened his mouth to search for your tongue in desperation, the way his fingers gripped your hips burned right through your clothes, driving you to the edge. You could hear people yelling and laughing, you could hear the fireworks outside, the song that started right after the countdown, but you were completely absorbed by him, by his lips, by the way he held you, no one had ever kissed you with such determination, with such dedication.

You had spent years dreaming about kissing Yoongi, but you never thought it would be like this—like your lips fitted just right with each other, as if in this universe he was made only for you. The moment was electric, igniting a fire deep within you, and all the doubts and fears that had held you back melted away, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the sweetness of his breath against your skin.

His feet carried him to the nearest wall, dragging you along until he pinned you against it, never breaking the kiss. For a fleeting moment, he pulled back to catch his breath, his gaze lingering on your lips before he devoured them once more. His hands traveled down your back, tempted to listen to his thoughts, to touch your body in the way he really wanted.

You laid your hand on his chest, gently pulling away “Is this what you wanted?” You whispered, excitement filling your voice.

His lips curled into a teasing smile. “Not even close,” he murmured, his voice low with amusement.

There were only so many ways you could imagine the night ending, that was what you thought before leaving your house earlier tonight. If you were lucky enough, you would’ve come back home in one piece, sober and with your heart intact, that would’ve meant that you didn’t dare to take any risks, you would've let the night finish its course without rushing it, finally accepting that you were a coward. If you were unlucky, you would’ve come home crying, drunk and with your heart shattered; that would’ve meant that you did take risks, but the universe simply wasn’t ready to take your side yet. You could’ve laid in bed and fantasized all you wanted, but none of those scenarios would’ve ever looked like this one.

As Yoongi opened the door of the entrance of his building, you caught a glimpse of the hour in the watch on his wrist. It took him half an hour and more than a few kisses to ask you to leave the party with him, two minutes to pick your jackets from the cloakroom, and only five minutes to drive to his apartment, and yet it felt like the longest car ride of your life. You thought that after twenty one years of life of never getting what you wanted, the universe should at least grant you the wish to skip the car ride to Yoongi’s apartment, because you had never felt so much tension before. You sank in the passenger seat and tried to avoid his gaze as much as possible, the mere thought of being alone with Yoongi was starting to give you goosebumps; the seat belt and the fact that he had to keep both hands on the steering wheel were the only things that were keeping him away from you.

The scenario was displayed right in front of you; he opened the door, letting you inside first and walking to the elevator with a cheeky smirk on his face. It wasn’t in your plans to leave less than an hour into the new year, and yet you were there, following the person you tried to forget so many times into his apartment, feeling like a handful of nerves.

You observed him opening the doors of the old elevator and then ran to get inside before him, crashing your back against the wall so it could keep you as far away from him as possible. You still didn’t understand what the fuck you were doing going into his apartment.

Yoongi got in after you, staring at you like you went mad, and honestly, it kinda felt like you did. You wanted to punch him when he laughed at you as he closed the doors, curiously raising his eyebrows. “Are you running away from me?” He asked, pressing the fourth button on the wall. It only took him one step to be as close to you as he was. You breath hitched, not feeling as confident as you felt when you were surrounded by people. “Still?”

You felt the sudden shift as the elevator ascended to the fourth floor. Yoongi and his mom had always lived in the same old building. The hallway walls were a dull brown, and the elevator had heavy accordion-style metal doors that folded inward and had to be closed manually. When you pressed the button to go up or down, the whole thing shook as if it was about to break down—but it never did. The mirror inside was old and smudged, you caught his reflection in the corner of your eye but you tried to ignore it, his presence alone was making you shiver.

You shook your head, unable to utter another word.

“No?” He kept insisting. He was teasing you, he had been teasing you for the whole night and you weren’t sure if you could take it anymore. You were tired of playing nonchalant, you just wanted to kiss him again.

He took a step forward, grabbing your waist to pull you closer to him. His fingers found each other in the small of your back, pressing you against him and taking you by surprise when he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and kissed you deeply. He slowly opened your mouth to slide his tongue past your lips, making it difficult to breathe or to even think.

You grasped his shoulders with your fingers in case he wanted to pull away but there was no need. You weren’t sure how many times you had tried to decipher whether you were caught in a dream or if this was reality, because there was no way Yoongi knew exactly how to kiss you to make every logical thought on your mind disappear, but when the elevator shook again you were pulled out of your trance, you were not dreaming, somehow this was real.

“Who knew this was the only way to get you to shut up.” He murmured, brushing his lips against yours.

“Fuck you.” You whispered, and you hated it because it doesn’t come out as an insult at all.

He chuckled, “Oh, there you are again.”

He took your hand to drag you out of the elevator, leading the way to his apartment door at the end of the dark hallway.

For Yoongi, your house was almost like his second home—but you could count only a couple of times you had been to his, like when your mom picked him up because Simon and he were going to a comic convention for the first time. You were ten, already with the worst attitude, mad that you had to go with your nerd brother and his nerd friend to some nerd convention. But when you arrived at Yoongi’s apartment, he took you to his room and—attempting to change your mood—showed you the keyboard his mom had gotten him for his birthday. You remembered that a few weeks prior, he had told you he was teaching himself how to play, and you asked him if he could learn "Last Night on Earth" by Green Day. That morning, before leaving, he played it for you under one condition: that you stop being mad.

When you walked through the door and saw the living room immersed in complete darkness, you couldn’t help but wonder if he still remembered how to play the song.

“Do you still have the keyboard?” You asked, unsure how to act around him alone. The air felt heaving, and nerves were still fluttering in your stomach. You had never been nervous to be alone with a man ever; it was usually the other way around, but not with him, never with him.

Yoongi smirked, not believing you were thinking about that. “Is that why you’re so quiet? You’re thinking about my old keyboard?”

“You’re pissing me off.” You warned him, digging your finger on his chest, but he’s quick to pull you close to him again, laughing at you. You, who were always so cocky and quick-witted with your insults, now you were standing there, struggling to find a retort. There was no way you were this nervous to be alone with a man you’ve known literally all your life.

“It’s in my room.” He whispered, brushing his thumbs over your waist.

You swallowed, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

“I…” You tried to say, but he was still looking at you the same way he was observing you back in the car, it was probably the same way he had been looking at you during these past weeks, but you couldn’t help but feel it was different. “I didn’t mean that.” You managed to finish your sentence.

He quietly chuckled, shaking his head “You want to see the keyboard. What else could you mean?”

You pressed your lips together, holding back the urge to curse him again. Ignoring your red cheeks, he took your hand before you could say anything back, making his way to his bedroom.

Yoongi’s home hasn’t changed too much, except for the frames on the walls that now had pictures of a much older Yoongi, or when he graduated high school and pictures on family holidays. You took a second to look at them as you walked towards his room but you were distracted when you felt his fingers on your chin, gently turning your face towards him.

“I like that picture.” You pointed at your left, a picture your mom took when both him and Simon graduated. It was Yoongi and Nari, his mom. Yoongi had a fresh cut and some square black glasses that he changed as soon as he got into college. “I was really sad when you left.” You confessed suddenly.

You weren’t intending for your words to carry a touch of sorrow, but they still linger with a hint of sadness in the air.

“Were you?” He murmured and you nodded.

You had always wondered what would have happened if you and Yoongi had grown up at the same time—what if it had been you instead of Simon? You wouldn't have had to see them leave together; you wouldn't have felt so disappointed when they came to visit every other weekend. Maybe you would’ve grown up less angry. You came to accept what you had, Yoongi was there for every important moment of you life; he taught you how to drive, helped you pass your math tests, he was the one who talked you out of your relationship with your asshole ex boyfriend, he was there for your graduation, to send you off to college, he was everywhere but you, on the other hand, were just a tiny piece of his life.

He cupped your face, chasing away all those swirling thoughts as he kissed your lips softly. He walked backwards, guiding you into his room while deepening the kiss. As the door closed behind you, a quiet certainty settled in your heart: your past had led you to this moment.

You sighed, feeling the ghost of his lips when he pulled away to search for something.

The dim light of the lamp next to Yoongi’s bed didn’t do much to illuminate the room, but provided enough lighting to observe how much it changed since the last time you were there. It didn’t look like the room of a teenager anymore, most of the posters were no longer there and the action figures were replaced by books now, but his keyboard was still folded next to his closet.

Yoongi grabbed it and carefully put it at the feet of his bed. He sat on the edge, inviting you to sit between his legs.

You narrowed your eyes at him, hesitating. “You…”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, tugging at your hand and guiding you to sit on his lap, your back against his chest as you faced the keyboard.

And, by the way, have you mentioned how nervous you were? You took a deep breath, dreaming, hoping, wishing he wouldn’t notice, but you were a fool if you thought Yoongi couldn’t read you like the palm of his hand.

“Do you do this with all the girls?” You dared to ask, but the truth was that you didn’t want to know the answer.

He kissed your exposed shoulder, resting his chin on it. “C’mon, you’re the one who asked to see the keyboard.”

You turned your head to him, a bit offended. “Is that a yes?”

“That was a no.” He retracted himself, he knew you well enough to know that he shouldn’t play with you unless he wanted to see you walk through the door. “What about the keyboard?”

You decided to ignore the swift change of topic. “Do you still remember how to play?” You asked, touching the keys and jumping a bit when it sounded a bit too loud.

“I’m a bit rusty, but sure I do.”

“Do you remember when… I asked you to learn a song?”

“Yes, I remember that,” He said, chuckling. “I also remember that the day I played it for you you were really pissed because your mom couldn’t find a nanny and had to hang out with me and Simon. You called me a nerd, very cruel.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. “God, I was such a terrible kid back then.”

“Well, yes, maybe.” He admitted “But you were also a really cool kid. You made us listen to My Chemical Romance the whole ride. I remember that your mom hated it, but it was the only thing that could keep you happy.”

You bursted out a laugh, remembering how big of a fan you were of My Chemical Romance, you still were. Your mom thought you were too young to be listening to that, but Simon bought you their second record for your birthday and she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, she had no other option but to let you keep it.

“I don’t know how my mom put up with me,” you said, shaking your head with a grin. “It probably drove her crazy.”

“Mmm, you always had that effect on people,” he teased, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “In both good and bad ways.”

“Is that really the impression I leave on you?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully. He hummed thoughtfully, admitting it without hesitation. “And in what way is it for you?”

“In both ways,” He replied, his tone light and teasing.

You bit your lips, trying to hold back a smile. “You’re so whipped, it’s ridiculous.” You said “I wanted you to play the keyboard but I rather hear you compliment how cool I am.”

“Oh, shut up.” He huffed, gently slapping your thigh “What did you want me to play, again?”

“The song I told you!” You reminded him.

“Oh, right!” He laughed, “I remember it, it was easy to learn.” He said and began to play the first chords “It reminds me of you, how could it not?” You smiled, watching his long fingers make the room full with music, you sang the song in your head, being hit by a sudden wave of nostalgia. “I want you to play it with me.”

You frowned “But I don’t know how.”

“I know, dummy.” He replied, grinning as he halted the music and pulled his fingers away from the keys. “Like this, see?” He gently took your hands, aligning your fingers with his, his palms covering the tops of yours as he began to play.

You laughed, fully aware it sounded awful—nothing like when he played solo—but your heart had never felt so at ease. His laughter danced through your hair, his body shaking beneath you, and you lost track of when the sound might end, as if it were a never-ending loop. All you wished was for it to last forever.

After two minutes, he intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing the song to a halt. “You’re good with the keys,” he joked. “Not as good as me, but you’ll get there.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you turned to wrap your arms around his neck. It felt a bit strange to be so close, but when his hands glided up and down your exposed thighs, and he looked into your star-filled eyes in the dim light, it suddenly felt just right.

His eyes were shining under the dim lights, biting his lips as he grasped your hips to keep you in place.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He said, somehow pulling you closer “I missed you while I was gone, that’s all.”

How much? you wanted to ask him, and when, for how long? And why? You wanted to know everything, to dive into the turmoil of his mind, to see yourself through his eyes.

You wanted to make an effort to hide how easily you melted when it came to him, but then again, why hide it? If you had the chance to grab his face and kiss him, that was exactly what you should do, and that was exactly what you did.

Your tights hugged his waist, and you tried not to flinch when his hands gripped your waist, slowly running his palms down the curve of your ass. He kissed you slowly, fingers tracing the line of your jaw as he deepened the kiss, slow and intoxicating. Each movement was controlled, filled with intent, as though he was savoring every second, every breath you shared. The warmth of his lips, the soft hum of desire between you, built gradually. His fingers teased their way under your dress, but they stopped there for a moment, as if he was playing with you. He pulled away, leaving a peck on your lips. “You aren’t so shy anymore.” He teased you, brushing his nose against yours.

“You’re so annoying,” you squinted your eyes at him.

He smiled, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “And…” his lips moved to your jaw, “…you are…” then to the curve of your neck, “…so pretty.” Taking advantage of how lost you were in the moment, he gently flipped you over, positioning himself between your legs, now hovering above you.

Yoongi sighed, feeling completely defeated. He, more than anyone, knew how beautiful you were: you were beautiful in the mornings, with messy hair and sleepy eyes; when you wore mismatched socks and a hoodie; in your pajamas; when you stumbled over your words,when you were shy and flustered, when you were angry and looked you were about to kill someone. Even if you hid in crowded rooms and always sat in the back of the class you couldn’t hide it, you had grown up beautiful, but specifically tonight you seemed to have stars in your eyes. All your makeup was smudged, half of the product of your lipstick was on Yoongi’s face and the dark shadow in your eyes was a mess, but he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

“You have the prettiest eyes, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks flush, heat creeping up your neck. “Are you trying to make me nervous?” You asked.

He kissed your lips before answering “Why, is it working?”

You shook your head in denial, lying shamelessly. You ran your hands from his abdomen to his chest, not knowing what to do next. Your mind and heart were racing, if you thought twice about it you didn’t even know what you were doing there, laying under him as he caressed your thighs, as he kissed your neck, as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Can you tell me something?” You whispered.

He gently brushed a few strands of hair away from your face. “What is this?”

“What was that thing you said about last summer?” You asked “What did you mean?”

Those words were still ringing in your mind since you heard them; that's what I’ve been doing since last summer. You wanted to know what he was talking about, but instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. “C’mon, tell me…” you chuckled.

“I was not supposed to say that out loud.”

“Why?” You insisted “Are you embarrassed?”

“I’m not embarrassed.” He firmly said “But there’s some things I should keep to myself.”

You rolled your eyes “Yoongi, tell me now…”

“Fine, okay, I’ll tell you.” He said, surrendering to your tactics, which consisted only of a warning glance. “Last summer we spent some time together, some time with Simon, some time alone, but always together. I began to see you differently, you were different, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty about it.”

“Why were you feeling guilty?” You cautiously asked.

He stopped for a moment, trying to find the right words. “Mmm… I felt I wasn’t supposed to look at you differently.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Exactly how different?”

“Well, different,” he repeated, a hint of playfulness in his tone. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

“What was it?” You frowned “Was it my eyebrows? I laminated my eyebrows for the first time last summer. Everyone said I looked prettier.”

Yoongi shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. How could you think it was your eyebrows?

“It wasn’t your eyebrows, but they suit you nicely.” He complimented, making you smile.

“Well, thanks.” You happily said “But then, what was it? I don’t remember being particularly diff-”

“It was your bikini, Pinky,” he interrupted, his confession coming out suddenly. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words. You blinked a few times, searching his face for any hint of teasing, but he looked serious—almost too serious. “There was this weekend where you were wearing a bikini with strawberries on it and… I gave you more than a few looks and felt like I was beginning to go crazy…” His expression remained sincere, almost thoughtful.. “I thought it would go away, you are a pretty girl, I supposed it was only logical to feel attracted. But then, I started to dream about you and that made everything worse, but that’s too much information.”

“No, I want to know.” You kept insisting, teasing him “Tell me what you were dreaming about.”

“You don’t want to know.” He brushed it off.

You reached for the buttons of his shirt, with a gentle touch, you unfastened the first button. “But I do want to know.”

Yoongi leaned in, kissing your lips softly as if that could make you forget the topic of conversation, but of course it didn’t, you were still looking at him, eager to know.

“Dreams, Pinky, of you… in that bikini… without a bikini, in my bed.” He said in a soft breath as he swept his palm on his face. He didn’t look embarrassed but you could tell he would rather not share that information. A single flashback of one of those dreams was enough to drive him to the edge. He thought that after leaving they would stop, but you keep appearing in the back of his mind like some kind demon, sent to earth just to torture him. You weren’t embarrassed either, you wished he could tell you more. “And the worst part is—that wasn’t all. I wish it were that simple. I wish I could just say that I’m only a man, and trust that at some point my dreams would stop. But even outside my dreams, you were still there, and you were funny and smart and you seemed to be the solution to all my problems. I don’t know, I keep wondering if I was nuts.”

You could only gaze at him, with your eyes wide and soft, absorbing every word. You had spent the whole summer with Yoongi and yet, you haven’t noticed his change at all. Yoongi wasn’t like other boys, he was composed, he knew how to controll himself, but you found yourself wondering what would’ve happened if he didn’t. You bit your lip, smiling. “And what about now?” You asked. “Did you come to a conclusion after all?”

“Yeah, a few” He nodded “I think I wasn’t crazy for dreaming of you, but I will be if I don’t take this dress off you.”

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