#it’s just been sitting in my drafts done forever

[allmightluver]

@amdk-lover I wanted to separate this from the original post become it became a tad long. Original post here.

I’ve imagined their meeting at the end, Toshi survives because I refuse to even consider the thought otherwise Izuku standing in the wake of the devastation, injured, but alive. AFO/Shigaraki are no more, he’s finally put an end to the century old curse. But at a price. As All For One ceased to exist, One For All followed suit. Izuku is once again quirkless. This could hardly be considered a win, what with all the damage and death it involved. It’s a bittersweet ending.

Bakugo is the first to reach him, followed by the rest of his peers and heroes, a wounded Todoroki following not far behind. Bakugo throws Izuku’s arm over his shoulders, taking his weight even as his own body protests and bleeds. Todoroki does the same, and the three of them hold each other upright. They’re already being examined, poked, and proded to stop any bleeding until further medicine can be accessible. The overwhelming group hugs and cheering from the small crowd around them are filled with blood, sweat, and tears. The hugs are full of grime and sour smells, but it’s the least important thing right now.

Suddenly a cloud of dust is seen in the distance. A black car speeds towards them and skids to a halt a short distance away. The crowd of heroes have made an opening for it to avoid being run over. Before anyone can think the back door is nearly swung off the hinges as it opens forcefully. A tall and ragged man scrambles out, moving a few feet away from the car in a rush before pausing. Taking in the scene and panting. Blood drips from his mouth and onto his shirt. The other back door opens, it’s Tsukauchi with a bucket of blood in his hands.

But for a moment nothing else exists. Izuku locks eyes with the man, one of his own starting to swell shut. His face is bruised and scraped and bloody. The man’s looking back at him is nearly as worn as his. Eyes large and shimmering, an unbelieving expression scattered in crimson smears.

Izuku tries, “…All Might?” The elder coughs in response, more blood spraying from his mouth, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. His voice is hoarse, “My boy…!” The jacket of Toshinori’s suit whips like a cape behind him, almost symbolic of the hero he once was, as he all but sprints to the boy, no, his boy. His hero. Izuku finds himself doing the same, despite his broken body. The pain leaves for a split second as all he can think about is the other, the man that filled the void in his life. His hero. His father. He abandons Bakugo and Todoroki, stumbling and limping, but rushing to the man that gave him his life’s purpose. Gave him his life.

As they near each other their arms lift and reach, already yearning for the other’s touch. Izuku reaches up as Toshinori meets him. The older man falling down onto his boney knees and skidding until his long arms wrap around Izuku’s tiny body, one hand reaching for the back of his head to tuck him close. Finally able to accommodate for their height difference Toshinori holds so tightly, as if he can’t believe the boy is here, alive, in his arms, but may cease to exist at any second. And Izuku squeezes him around the neck just as tight. He kept his promise. Izuku changed the man’s cruel fate. Toshinori is here, alive. Cheers break out and radiate around them, but they hear nothing.

Izuku cries, overwhelmed, in shock but relieved, and so thankful. It takes him a moment to realize Toshinori too is openly sobbing against him. The elder opens his eyes and looks up, as if thanking the heavens for sparing his boy, for giving him to Toshinori of all people. “My boy,” he croaks, voice ruined from emotion, coughing and the physical distress he’s forced his body through. He’s been a complete wreck. The emotional stress straining his broken body to the point Tsukauchi brought him a bucket to keep from spray blood everywhere as he hacked and wheezed. But his body can wait. The most important thing in his life is currently in his arms, safe and sound. “Izuku!” His face crumbles once again, eyes squeezing shut as his body is wracked with sobs ands more coughs. He buries his nose into the boy’s wild hair, unknowingly rocking them both gently.

Izuku cries harder at hearing his hero refer to him by his first name, “All Might,” one hand moves to cup at the back of the blonde’s head as well, “…Dad!” The man squeezes harder yet, at a loss for words at the boy’s words. The two are a complete mess as the heroes and students cheer them on. The world’s two heroes.

But then Izuku his ripped away from Toshinori by the man himself. He holds the boy at an arms length, quickly examining every inch, every wound, “Are you alright?! Are you hurt?!” Izuku’s never seen such a distressed look on his mentor’s face, tears still streaming down his hollow cheeks. The boy tries to straighten up a little, sniffling, “Just bruised and beat up, but I’m fine. I promise.” Without a second thought, he’s pulled back into the embrace, just as tight as before. “Oh my boy,” Toshinori mumbles as he tries to wrap his head around everything that had just happened, “Thank you! Thank you!”

After a beat, the man lifts his gaze, seeing Bakugo and Todoroki not far away, also beaten and broken, one of them recently revived from death. One arm leaves it’s hold around Izuku to reach in their direction, waving them over. The two obey, and Toshinori pulls them both into a group hug. His long arms alternating between holding each of their heads and keeping them close. He mutters worries and relieved comments over them as they wrap their arms each other until everyone is holding tight. Toshinori then pulls back just enough to place a kiss on each of their foreheads, “You’re true heroes. Each one of you. I’m so proud and so thankful.”

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

The way Chloe Gong pulls off fake deaths the way she does is an amazing testament to her skill as an author.

Usually fake deaths cheapen the blow of losing a character. You have to go through all of the emotional turmoil of losing a beloved character and watch everyone mourn them only for everything to be okay because actually they were kind of integral to the plot and the author needs them but also they also wanted to make the book sad for a little bit but hey everything is okay now!

But Chloe Gong doesn't do this. She gets you invested in what you usually know from the start is a doomed story. She makes you very desperately want to believe that the character that you know is going to die won't die. And then. She kills them.

And it's horrible. You mourn for them. You have to watch the other characters react to the death. But most of the time, it's a fake death. And even if you know or suspect this from the beginning, it still hurts, often just as much, if not more, than it would if the death were real.

And not just because of the way she writes grief, which gets more and more painful with each new book she releases. But instead of killing off a character for a quick gut punch and bringing them back because they were actually way too important to kill and she needs them for the plot, she uses fake deaths to create these absolutely insane scenarios that are often, at least in my opinion, more painful then just killing off the character.

When Marshall fake died, for example, she could've just had him die and forced Juliette to deal with the grief and guilt of killing her friend as well as the implications of Marshall's death for her relationship with Roma plus everyone else's grief and then created a weird situation where Roma can just,,, get over her killing Marshall and still like her. Instead, she creates this absolutely insane situation where Juliette is still grieving for the loss of her relationship with Roma, and Roma and Ben are grieving for Marshall all with Marshall still being alive. And rather than just using Marshall as a plot device to be sacrificed to make the other characters more interesting, she makes him more interesting as well. She forces him to watch as Benedikt and Roma grieve for him, making his relationship with both of them, as well as Juliette more interesting in the process.

And then when Roma and Juliette fake died at the end of OVE, even if you suspected it, it being fake doesn't take away from the pain very much, especially knowing what happens in Foul Lady Fortune. Alisa, whose only real family was arguably Roma and Benedikt, is left behind to raise herself and she is too afraid to check to see if Roma and Juliette are really dead. Because if they are dead, then she's truly alone, clinging onto the false belief that hope won out while everything she ever knew disintegrates around her. Plus, even though Benedikt and Marshall figure out pretty quickly that the death was fake, they're still forced to cope with the grief and guilt of having had a hand in the situation and forced to flee the country with only each other, thrust into a world where their best friends are dead and the hope that they are relying on to get themselves away from everything is based on the same sense of hope that ultimately lead to the "deaths" of Roma and Juliette. And then there's the cruelty of the sense of responsibility Rosalind feels for their deaths. And how after they died, she became deathly ill, but like them, was inexplicably saved. But she can't move on from their deaths and spends every waking hour and every unsleeping night of her immortal life trying to put the broken world they left behind back together. And Celia sees Alisa and Rosalind regularly. As she watches two people who she cares about immensely suffer for years after the deaths occurred, she can't say anything. Even though her first loyalty is to her sister, she's forced to watch Rosalind grieve and become a ghost of a person who seems to derive purpose solely from the pursuit of an impossible mission. And Roma and Juliette, who so deeply wanted to make the city better are forced to watch as things get worse and worse and the people that they seemingly sacrificed everything to save continue to suffer.

In Foul Lady Fortune, the fake deaths are a little different. So far, the only characters who have fake died are Dao Feng and Lady Hong, the later of which falls into this trope a bit more loosely. In Dao Feng's case, it leads to worry then betrayal on Rosalind's part. Her worry was all for nothing, and she's once again put in a place where one of the few people she dared to care about has left her and likely never truly cared about her in return (at least as of the end of FLF). Assuming that he did genuinely care about her based on As You Like It, I am very interested to see how this ends up playing out.

Lady Hong's case is somewhat similar. Although we never really think with absolute certainty that Lady Hong died, Orion suspects that his father could have done something to her and has no concrete explanation for her disappearance. He grieves her absence even though her relationship with him was always iffy at best. Only to find out that she never cared for him as anything other than a tool for her to take advantage of. Like Rosalind, he is left feeling used and as if all of his grief and pain were for nothing.

(Hiding the part below this because of huge Immortal Longings spoilers)

In Immortal Longings, you know that either Calla or Anton is going to have to die at the end because of the structure of the games. And as their relationship progresses, you dread the resolution more and more. You want a fake death. You want them to find some hole in the rules that will allow them both to survive. And Calla comes up with a plan that allows this. She gives you false hope. She lets you cling to the idea that the horrible ending you can so clearly see coming won't happen. And then that hope is snatched away, and you're even closer to the ending. And you know what's coming. You know that Anton has to die. And then the final crumb of hope is snatched away from you and they're in the ring together. And just when it's too late, Anton tells Calla that they could run for the wall together. He's finally willing to set aside Otta Avia, without who they wouldn't even be there in the first place. But it's too late. Because this is bigger than either of them. And Calla knows that she has to kill him. And she sinks her knife into his back in some of the most excruciating paragraphs I have read in my life. You see Anton realize that although he was willing to make a run for it with her, she has bigger plans. She isn't doing him a kindness by killing him first, and even though she may be planning on ending her own life as well soon, she cares more about killing King Kasa than she ever did about him. So when, at the very end, it is revealed that Anton somehow survived, it's somehow a million times worse than if he had actually died. Even though you so desperately wanted the book to not end in on or both of them dying, this isn't what you wanted. Now, he's alive and remembers just how willing she was to sink a knife through his back. And Calla must grieve for him all over again because even though he's alive, she surely can never truly have him back after what she did.

In conclusion, Chloe Gong is a legend and a genius. Thank you for coming to my tedtalk I guess.

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Sunday doodles

[dawn-moths]

finally getting back to my main wips like “it’s been so long i missed you so much!”

[yourmidnightlover]

control

(forever? pt 2)

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader (arranged marriage)

summary: after a rough night with bucky, you wake up alone and get some frustrating news from your beloved husband

warnings: reader is insecure/doubts, not eating for 24 hours (out of protest), kind of controlling bucky, violence, if i missed anything, please let me know!

w/c: 2.7k+

a/n: hiii! this is the second part that was in high demand after i posted forever? i hope y'all like it! this has been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever and i finally have had a chance to share it with you all! i hope it's worth the wait :)

part 3 -> the story

you woke up alone, just like every morning in the past two months with the exception of the smell of his cologne only a whisper on your bedsheets. 

maybe you shouldnt have expected anything else from him. he had just felt bad about what happened, about making you cry, that’s all. he couldn’t have you running out on the deal that was made. he just had to save face. it was all business…

there was another knock on the door. two days in a row, which was rather surprising. 

opening the door, you come face to face with bucky’s right hand man, steve. his kind blue eyes shone with a hint of remorse, likely knowing at least a bit of what happened last night from his boss.

“hi,” you smiled, your hand remaining on the doorknob.

“hey,” his eyes examined your face, probably to report back to bucky on how you were doing. as if he couldn’t check on you himself. “are you hungry?”

you turn around to look at the clock that reads 12:30.

“i didn’t realize how late it was,” you shook your head as he chuckled. 

“you probably needed the rest after…” he inhaled a sharp breath. “anyway, bucky wants you to head up to the office. told me to make sure you ate too.”

why couldn’t he show you how caring he was?

maybe that’s why he left so early… because he had stuff in the office to take care of. that was what your mind would assume to save your own ego, at least. 

he took you by a mom and pop diner around the corner from their office, let you eat as many waffles and pieces of bacon as your heart desired until he discreetly paid the bill and then you made your way to the office to meet with your husband. 

stopping outside his door, you heard his voice ringing angry and raging. 

“i said to find him. i don’t care if you have to work all day and night to do it. i’m gonna find out where he is. nobody touches what’s mine and gets away with it.”

was he talking about you? or was he talking about another one of his many possessions or assets. either way, with the tone he was talking about everything, even if he was talking about you, he made it seem as though you were merely an object that was in his trophy case. if he was looking for john in order to reprimand him, it was likely to send a message to everyone else that dared look at him. to ensure they didn’t see him as weak.

he would never do anything for you out of the kindness of his heart, surely.

“do whatever needs to be done. end of discussion.” you heard a dial tone end, followed by steve knocking on the door. 

“glad you made it safely,” bucky nodded towards steve before glancing at your form tucked behind him. “how’re you feelin’?” you shrugged. 

“fine, i guess.”

“thank you, steve,” seemingly dismissing steve, he left the room promptly. “i wanted to talk with you about something.” you remained quiet; he sighed before continuing. “i’ve made some arrangements to get you your own personal bodyguard, for when i’m not around to ensure your safety. they would be ‘round the clock unless approved otherwise or when i’m available to be around you.”

“so i would be watched 24/7?” you finally piped up. “like a child?” you voice was still meek as you mentioned your objection.

“it’s for your safety.” he stepped closer to you, not missing the way your body tensed at the movement. “so that something like what happened last night doesn’t happen again,” his jaw tensed, seemingly at the mention of what happened. 

so someone doesn’t touch his precious trophy again, you thought to yourself. 

“i’m a grown woman. i barely even leave the house, and you think i need more surveillance?” your brows furrowed together as you shrunk into yourself, your shoulders deflating at the thought of losing even more of yourself to this marriage. 

“it happened at our house,” bucky reminded you.

“it happened with you right around the corner, too. y’might as well have a drone following me around at that point,” you scoffed quietly. “what? next i won’t be able to shower by myself.”

“if that’s what it takes to ensure your safety, then that’s what’ll happen.” there was no playfulness or sarcasm in his tone.

“i was joking, you can’t be serious,” you looked at him, feeling stubborn tears beginning to well in your eyes. 

“deadly,” he assured you, his brows raised and his serious tone piercing your heart. “whatever it takes.”

you shook your head as you turned to the door. “no.”

your hand reached the doorknob before he added, “i was running this by you as a courtesy. not to get your permission.”

you froze in your steps, turning to him with a questioning look. a couple tears finally broke free from the dam before you responded, “then what was the point?” with that, you walked out of his office, turning to steve. “is it you?” after seeing the tears streaking your face, the choked sobs leaving your throat, he looked to the ground in defeat. you had your answer. and bucky had your freedom in his hand. 

you really were just a device for him at this point. you play the part of a loving, devoted wife while he probably does whatever he pleases to maintain his image to the public. 

you understood that their businesses were in the public eye and that the news of a finance business being absorbed how it was would draw a lot of attention, but nothing made sense right now. he was being so serious about it all. 24/7 surveillance, a fucking bodyguard… for a finance business merge. it was disheartening, to say the least.

it’s not like you had a say in the matter, anyway. so, steve escorted you safely from the premises back to your gated house, where you locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. 

you didn’t open the door when he tried to ask what you wanted for dinner, or when he tried to give you a sandwich. 

you didn’t even open the door when bucky tried to knock himself once he got home at 11p.m.

or in the morning when they tried to give you breakfast.

or at noon when steve insisted on lunch.

“it’s been almost 24 hours since you’ve eaten,” steve sighed from the other side of the door as you sat at your desk, pen doodling meaningless lines in your notebook as you stared at the blank word document. “bucky’s not gonna be happy if he finds out you haven’t been eating or talking or… anything. you know i have to tell him.”

and you stayed quiet. 

if he wanted a polite little trophy wife, he would get one. but last time trophy wives were a thing was in the 40s, and they weren’t really allowed to say much, so you figured you’d follow suit. 

kind of like your own version of a peaceful protest. 

apparently bucky wasn’t very happy about that. 

he showed up knocking on your door not 20 minutes after steve tried to insist on lunch again. at least he wasn’t busting the door down, much to your surprise.

“it’s bucky, but i’m sure you’ve figured that out,” his voice rang with a certain softness he had with you only two nights ago. “i told steve to go for a little walk so i could talk with you. i was hoping you’d maybe respond?” he tried to open the door, finding it remained locked. “sweetheart, please just eat something. you haven’t even had water since yesterday. you know you have to drink something.” 

you suppose it would look pretty bad for him if his dear wife went to the hospital for dehydration, or starvation for that matter. has the bucky barnes been treating his wife as less than? or has he simply forgotten about his wife? perhaps she’s a weak point for him? 

although he probably wouldn’t admit you to the hospital, he’d probably hire someone to come to the house themselves, sworn to secrecy of some sort. 

you heard rustling on the other side of the door, not footsteps, more like clothing being rustled followed by a thump. his voice rang out lower on the door when he spoke, “i know you’re not happy about having a bodyguard. i understand, i do. you think your freedom is being tarnished and threatened and this is you trying to control what little you can because of that.”

how can he act like he knows you so well? the man who made it seem as though the marriage would be at least a partnership before the words ‘i do’ were uttered. after the honeymoon a flip must’ve been switched in his brain, telling him you were a little toy for him rather than the partner you had agreed to be.

but, after plenty of time to think, you’ve come to realize that you were being rather selfish. as much as you wanted your freedom. you wanted to stick it to the man and tell him that you deserved respect, because you did. 

you also had a duty to your family, to keep them safe. being in this marriage was the only way to do that. and if any questions arose, like bucky’s care for you, then your family would be in danger. 

with a click, you unlocked the door. he must’ve heard it because he slowly opened the door and took a step inside your room, a few feet from you.

“i’m sorry,” you looked at the collar of his suit rather than his eyes. “i’ve been acting rash and immature. i apologize for that.”

“i didn’t-”

“i won’t question your authority again,” you were picking at your nails. “i understand that you need steve to make sure nobody harms me to maintain your image. i respect that. i respect your decision.”

you couldn’t bare to look at his face. your gaze shifted to the floor as he began to nod. 

“does that mean you’ll eat something?” you nodded, chewing on your lower lip before responding. 

“i’m sorry for taking time away from your business,” you moved the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ears, doing anything you could to distract yourself. “i now how valuable your time is.”

“you’re more valuable than all the time i have,” he took a step closer to you before you felt his index finger and thumb gently holding your chin, nudging your head up to look him in the face. “do you understand?” his blue eyes were full of emotion, a mix of them, at that. if you squinted it was almost like there were tears building at the corners of his eyes. but you weren’t squinting anymore. you saw the full picture quite clearly with your eyes wide open. 

“i understand,” you nodded curtly.

you did understand.

you understood that he had an image to maintain. that image, for you and your family, was for him to be a devoted, loving husband to his equally loving and devoted wife. 

his image is his reputation, and no money in the world could buy the reputation he has. 

he let go of your chin, cupping the sides of your face before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, “i brought your favorite with me. steve’s warmed it up in the microwave for when you’re ready for it. just… eat whatever you can. if you’re still hungry i’d gladly go and grab some more for you.”

“aren’t you going back to the office?” you, voluntarily this time, looked into his eyes with furrowed brows. 

“no, my love,” he shook his head before dropping his hands from your face. “i told them i needed to spend the rest of the day with my wife.”

of course. if steve knew about last night, people at the office probably did too. it would look pretty lousy if he didn’t look after his wife after an incident like that. 

“oh,” you nodded as you broke eye contact once more. “that sounds nice.”

you followed him downstairs, where steve had already set your food aside for you to start on. not eating for so long truly did affect you more than you thought. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were, finishing the entire meal in less than 15 minutes. 

bucky was sitting beside you, eating his own food as he made sure you ate and drank, and noticed when you made a happy plate, and cup, might he happily add. 

“wanna go get some more now?” he let his hand float to your hair, raking through your messy locks with a smile growing at the corner of his lips. 

“no, that’s okay,” you shook your head, not wawnting to bother him more than necessary. 

“if you’re still hungry, then that’s not okay,” you looked to see him shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the dining room table. “c’mon,” he stood from the table, holding his hand out for you to take. “we’re going to get s’more food.”

“will we be going alone?” you let your eyes gravitate to where steve stood in the corner of the room, having not been dismissed by bucky yet. 

“steve,” bucky called him over. “you can go home now. i’ve got her. thank you.” he released him from his duties. “now will you come with me?”

you took a second to think. maybe he was a controlling asshole, but what he was doing was for your safety, whether you agreed with it or not. “okay,” you nodded, figuring it was also best you went along with whatever he said. he seemed to get whatever he wanted anyways. “can we just go through a drive through somewhere?”

“if that’s what you want…” he nodded, surprisingly agreeing to your proposal. “where to?”

“... mcdonalds?” you suggested once more.

“of course, my love,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, oddly affectionate since nobody was around. “when we get back i’ll arrange hiring a chef for you, as well. i won’t have you going hungry if i can help it.”

“you don’t have to-”

“i will.” 

you knew better than to argue. you wouldn’t poke the bear if you could help it. sure, he’s told you he wouldn’t hurt you. you were his wife and if news came out that he had hurt his wife in any way, his reputation would be threatened. 

you couldn’t help but remember every warning your friends told you about going into a relationship with this man. warnings about being on your toes, watching your back, never letting your guard down. 

in your mind, this was just one more reason you wouldn’t have to leave the house. another little piece of freedom taken from you in a roundabout sense. 

“okay,” you nodded, accepting your fate as someone who would eventually be trapped in their house forever.

he took you through the drive through at mcdonald’s, getting you whatever you wanted and an oreo mcflurry. on the way home, eating the mcflurry before it melted, it was a silent ride. and not a very comfortable one, probably due to your suspicions about him wanting to control you. 

maybe him controlling you wouldn’t be so bad… he was kind to you, provided for you, made sure you didn’t want for anything. but with that, went a lot of your heart, freedom, and control.  

TAGS:

@nefri-black

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[blackhairedjjun]

rebound and restoration

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem reader | genre / tropes: angst -> fluff, friends to lovers, post-breakup, non-idol au; ft. soobin + mentions of the rest of txt; reader is yeonjun's age (soobin calls reader "noona") | word count: 5.4k | warnings: post-breakup heartbreak, profanity, food, kissing

additional note: fic is mostly written but contains a few texts

summary: with his heart still aching after just getting dumped, yeonjun turns to you, one of his closest friends, for comfort. that is, until he kisses you - and your friendship starts to change.

author's notes: honestly i feel like if i don't post this soon i'll be dissatisfied with it forever and edit it endlessly and it'll never get past my drafts LOL perfect is the enemy of done!! anyway i wrote this while i was feeling stressed and insane during the holidays and wanted... an angsty kiss for whatever reason. lmao yeah

(support by reblogging banner by @cafekitsune)

when yeonjun arrives at your apartment, it’s still early in the evening; the two bowls of pho you ordered for takeout are still hot, and you’ve left your laptop open at a selection of cheesy netflix rom-coms. perhaps the selection is a bit ironic, but you mused that the feel-good escapism is just what he needs.

he pulls you into a hug and you give him an extra squeeze and a few pats on the back. you can’t help but ruffle his hair a little as he pulls away. 

“hey, jjun...”

“y/n!”

“how are you feeling?”

“ah, a bit better, i think.”

he gives you a slight smile, and you’re too relieved to notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. it’s a miracle to you that he’s even smiling again two weeks after his breakup. you still remember the cracks in his voice when he called you after it had happened, the rims of his eyes red with crying when he finally crashed at your place half an hour later. that night you held him tight as he told the story to you in between sobs: hana had broken up with him over a call that lasted less than a minute. she was bored and tired of him and just stopped caring, she said, if he were a toy she could throw away if she didn’t want to play with it anymore.

you swallowed back the anger in your throat back then, though you couldn’t help the tears of your own that fell. now you push the anger back down again as you lead yeonjun to the small table at your kitchenette, one of the bowls of pho steaming in front of him. now is not the time for indignation; your friend needed comfort, and it’s comfort you will give.

yeonjun’s eyes light up at the sight of the pho. your heart swells, and you don’t hold it against him when he sits down ahead of you and picks up his chopsticks, ready to dig in. in between slurps he grins like he’s just received the best present of his life. “this is so good!” he said in between mouthfuls of noodles. “it’s been way too long since i had this.”

“i know! feels like we haven’t had this in ages.”

“remember when we tried to make our own?”

“oh god, not that!” you laugh, dropping your chopsticks. “we got impatient and that broth tasted like nothing.”

“your kitchen smelled like ginger though,” yeonjun recalls with a giggle. “it was nice visiting for a while.”

“my kitchen smelled like ginger more than the actual broth, jjun.”

“maybe we can try again one of these days? and if we mess up, at least you’ll have a nice-smelling kitchen again.”

all you can do in response is laugh, and for a moment you forget that you stopped having pho nights together when hana entered his life.

he fills you in on video game night with soobin and kai, shopping with beomgyu, and his so-called revenge gym day with taehyun; he beams with pride while describing his new weight record just as much as he does when talking about managing a hard-earned victory over soobin at tekken. you laugh along with him, knowing that his friends blocked out their schedules just to comfort him for a day. and when you talk about your new project at work and the new books you bought yourself as a treat, his eyes fill with that indescribable look you’ve seen before. you can’t quite place what it is, but it reminds you of afternoon light, of summer days, of lingering hugs after a long day together.

you don’t need to ask for yeonjun to help you clear out the table and pick up the snacks you set aside for your movie, and you make no effort to resist. there are no words exchanged: he simply places all the disposable pho bowls and chopsticks together, and you reach for a clean garbage bag and put them all in. the only communication between you is a shared look and a nod.

perhaps it’s just your imagination, but that look lingers a little longer than you’re used to, and you can’t help but give him a satisfied smile.

you’ve seen him look at hana that way, too many times to count, especially during that early-dating phase when the thrill of emotions was still high. you wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of that gaze, for yeonjun to look at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. and you wondered if hana really was that precious 一 if she were just as precious to him as you, his best friend, if not more so.

you let yeonjun select the movie. at first you doubt your idea to present him with rom-coms, of all things, but you let out a sigh of relief when he happily chooses one of them. both of you have seen this one many times over, but you don’t mind. there’s comfort in knowing that a happy ending is guaranteed to happen.

the two of you are slouched on your couch together, the laptop balanced on a pillow between the both of you. yeonjun sits close to you, an arm around your shoulder, a gesture that he hasn’t done with you since he started dating. you let yourself lean against him (so that you can see the screen better, you tell yourself). the two of you start a running commentary on the movie 一 “why would he say that?!” “aww, they look so cute together,” “oh god, that was so stupid!” 一 and both of your laughter fills the apartment, the sound like a duet in harmony.

it’s so easy this way, you think 一 just you and your best friend in your own little corner of the world. you steal a glance at yeonjun while he’s absorbed in the final confession scene, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes gleaming with anticipation for the big kiss. a string of memories flash before you before you can help yourself.

“she said yes,” he says, his whole face flush with excitement. “she said she’ll be mine.”

his hands are on your shoulders and he gives them a gentle squeeze. “there’s no way hana can’t like you. you’re one of my best friends, i’ll make sure you get along.”

“i think hana’s mad at me,” he tells you as he fiddles with the beanie in his hands. “but don’t worry about it, we’ll talk it out, i promise.”

his head is in his hands as you sit across him from a restaurant booth. “i don’t know what i did wrong, she looked so bored through the whole date...”

you hold him close as he sobs in your arms, his whole body shaking. “sh-she said she’s... tired of me…”

“y/n?”

you snap back to reality as yeonjun glances at you, his head tilted. the ending credits of the movie have started to play. “are you okay?”

“i-i’m fine.” you reach out to touch his cheek, then hesitate. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine, y/n.” he picks up on the meaning of your words. “i know i looked really bad that night, but i’m getting better, i promise.”

“good.” your eyes meet his, and your cheeks grow warm. “we can have nights like this as many times as you want until you feel better, okay?”

“yeah, i know. i missed having nights like this, actually.”

“me too. i really liked it when we did this all the time...”

“i know. i’m sorry. hana didn’t like一”

“hey.” your hand comes up again and this time, you gently hold on to his cheek. “it doesn’t matter what she thinks anymore.”

“y/n... i’m really sorry. i feel like i neglected you, and you’ve been my friend for so long...”

tears form in his eyes, and you feel them warm against his cheek. you wipe them away with your thumb as you move closer to him. he continues to ramble as you do.

“i feel like an idiot. like a total dumbass.” the pitch of his voice begins to rise. “god, i was so convinced that hana and i were the perfect couple, that we’d be happy. i-i thought about her more than she d-did about me, y/n, and i stopped hanging out with you一 when you’ve always一”

“jjun, please don’t apologize anymore,” you say, your voice trembling. “i’ve never been mad at you over her, not even once. i just want you to feel better, okay? i... i just want to see you be yourself again.”

you want to see the yeonjun you’ve always loved.

you’ve lain awake at night wondering if he’s ever sensed your feelings for him, and if he’s ever felt the same way. on the day he told you that he and hana were officially together, you spent that night sobbing in your bed, convinced that your friend would never see you as a lover. and yet you said nothing of that night, and of other nights similar to it, because you told yourself that if hana made him happy, then you would be happy too.

and now you want more than anything to see him happy again.

yeonjun says nothing, but instead places a hand on top of the one you have resting on his cheek. you feel it trembling, but you don’t resist as he grasps your hand to intertwine his fingers with yours. he swallows hard to push back the rest of his tears, and his eyes soften. once again there’s that indescribable look of his that makes you feel light.

“y/n...”

he says your name softly, as if in reverence. his face inches closer to yours and you don’t pull away; instead you feel lighter than ever, your gaze falling to his lips as your eyes flutter shut. everything that follows feels slow, gentle; his nose brushing against yours, then your lips on his.

he kisses you slowly at first, but as you kiss him back you fill with a new fervor, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him wrap his arms around your waist to pull your body flush against his. warmth blooms in your chest, and every movement of yours betrays your feeling: your lips moving against his, your hands making their way into his hair. you want to kiss him until the pain he feels has been replaced by the love you have for him 一 i love you, i love you, i love you.

you’re completely absorbed in him and let out a soft sigh when yeonjun snaps out of it 一 he breaks apart from you, breathing hard, eyes wide as he’s hit by what he’s just done.

“shit, y/n一” he gets off the couch, one hand running through his hair over and over again. “i’m so sorry. fuck, i shouldn’t have done that一”

you’re snapped out of your trance as you stand up to chase after him. “jjun, hey, wait! listen to me—”

he’s picking up his bag from the foot of your couch. he can’t even look at you, instead occasionally letting out a shit or two under his breath.

“yeonjun, please一”

you stand in front of him to block his way from the exit. at first his head is bowed, avoiding your gaze, but when he finally looks up his expression is solemn.

“you are not a rebound to me,” he says at last. “please don’t ever think that i just used you to make me feel better.”

“i never accused you of that! look, i’m sorry too, it was my fa一”

“i’m really sorry, but i can’t stay here anymore. i’ll make it up to you, y/n, i promise.”

“wait一”

yeonjun walks past you and before you can protest any further, he’s out your door. you push it open and try to chase after him, but after a few steps you stop, thinking better of it. what would stopping him even do?

you walk back inside and slump back down on the couch. the screen of your laptop faintly glows, and a half-eaten bag of chips has fallen to the floor. all at once the reality of what happens sinks into you: the kiss, his words, his departure.

you are not a rebound to me. the words echo in your mind.

a strange tension fills you, and you can’t even tell what emotion it’s supposed to be from: confusion, frustration, anxiety. with your whole body seemingly on edge, you grab a throw pillow from the opposite side of your couch and press it into your face.

you sob into it the tension crashes down on you in full force.

一

for the next few nights the scene replays in your dreams: yeonjun leaning in ever closer towards you, your lips meeting his in a fervent kiss 一 each night’s dream-kiss more fervent than the last 一 and him suddenly pulling away. you awaken each time just as he breaks the kiss, the shock and confusion coursing through you again, and immediately after you reach for your bedside table to check your phone.

still no text from yeonjun.

you consider texting him again, but each time you type a new message you erase it, the blinking cursor driving you mad. how would you even know what to say? do you want to apologize? to beg for his forgiveness? to ask if you can still be friends?

you hate to admit it, but every morning you lie in bed for a few moments more to allow the dream to sink in. the look on yeonjun’s face appears vivid to you, from his eyes blown wide to his mouth slightly agape. your mind travels back to the moment he breaks the kiss, as if a sudden force pushed him away, the shock of it hitting you. then it wanders to the kiss itself, the feeling of his lips soft against your own, his arms warm as they hold you by the waist…

you shake the memory away, drag yourself out of bed, and continue on with your routine: breakfast, shower, get dressed. you resist the urge to check your phone for as long as you can. you stare at the little contact photo you set of yeonjun and remind yourself: you’re his friend. you need to help him heal. 

you recount your worries to soobin over snacks one day.

“i feel like i’m being selfish,” you say in between munches of potato chips. “he hasn’t even moved on from hana”— soobin winces at the acridity you mutter her name with—“and now one of his closest friends kisses him like she’s madly in love. how is he supposed to move on? he’s hurting enough as it is.”

soobin sets aside the bag of chips you just finished. he rubs his face with his hands as he tries to choose his words carefully.

“you’re not being selfish, noona. you sound like you’re trying to be careful so that you don’t hurt him,” he says at last. “and yeonjun hyung feels just as bad about it. he feels bad that he even started the kiss, and for making you feel like a rebound. you two sound like each other, to be honest.”

“i know he feels bad, it’s just 一 i don’t know how that will fix...” you wave your hands wildly in the air, “this.”

“you can start by talking to each other?”

“he didn’t reply to my last texts. and i… i don’t know if i should text him again.”

a moment of silence. soobin opens a pack of candy and chews on it, just to give himself time to think. he fiddles with his phone as he does, absentmindedly scrolling through his old texts, when one of them catches his eye.

“so, there’s this new restaurant that beomgyu wants to check out.”

“really, soobin, what does this have to—”

“he was thinking of inviting all of us there to hang out,” he continues. “including you and yeonjun hyung. we can plan for it a week or two from now so that you have space? and then you can get used to talking to him again there. if things get awkward, i can ask beomgyu to fill in.”

you purse your lips. “i dunno, i might cry if i see his face again.”

“if you don’t feel like it, just call in sick.” soobin’s mouth twitches into a small grin as he says it — you know he’s used that excuse to get away from social situations he doesn’t want to be in. now you’re starting to see the appeal of it.

“okay. i’ll think about it.”

—

ultimately you do decide to go, and two weeks later you’re the first to arrive at the restaurant. you can feel your hands trembling as you push the door open and your heart hammering in your chest. in your head you’ve prepared what you want to say to yeonjun and you mentally rehearse your words for the hundredth time.

you slide right into the booth and take a deep breath. you check your phone to keep yourself busy, letting yourself calm down until your hands have stopped shaking. as you’re scrolling through your camera roll looking at some memes beomgyu sent you, someone slides into the booth seat opposite yours.

“hey, y/n.”

yeonjun gives you a shy smile and the nervousness in your stomach kicks into overdrive. he looks much better now; the bags under his eyes have lessened, and his smile seems genuine. still, you can’t help but remember the last time you saw him, and you shudder.

he sees your reaction and winces, averting his gaze. when he speaks, his voice is soft. “y/n... are we okay?”

the question breaks you and whatever words you have prepared fly out of your mind. as you try to grasp at them again, tears prick at your eyes.. “yeah... yeah, we’re okay,” you say. you take a gulp of water to hold back the tears. “i was never mad at you, jjun, i’ve been worried out of my mind一”

“i’m sorry i never replied to your texts.” he places his hands atop your trembling ones. “i just felt so ashamed that i didn’t know how to face you.”

“and i’m sorry i never tried texting you again, i just didn’t know what you thought of me, and i was so scared that i lost you...”

“i was so scared that i lost you.”

you sniffle. “that makes both of us then. god, we were so stupid.”

“i missed you, y/n.”

“i missed you too, jjun.”

you let out a laugh of relief and he laughs too. with the sound of his laughter melding with yours, everything else seems to melt away: the tears in your eyes, the other noises of the restaurant, the baggage of the last two weeks. sitting before you is your old friend, holding onto your hand to comfort you, laughing together with you just like you always have. 

and just as always, you want nothing more than for your friend to be happy.

“so,” you begin, giving him the most reassuring smile that you can muster, “let’s start over?”

yeonjun glances down at the table, but you can see his eyes crinkling as they usually do when he smiles. “yeah, let’s do that.”

when beomgyu enters the restaurant right afterwards, all it takes is one glance at the scene before him to understand what happened. he turns his head towards you, meeting your gaze, and you give him a nod.

it’s going to be okay.

一

the kiss becomes an unspoken part of your history together, never mentioned and never acknowledged. you stop searching for hidden meanings to it, and instead settle on the explanation that it was simply a spur-of-the-moment reaction from pent-up post-breakup emotions. it doesn’t matter to you whether or not this explanation is true; it’s the explanation that gives you the most peace of mind, and that’s what matters. as the days pass, you think of it less and less, and eventually it is filed away in your memory, like a book never checked out of the library collecting dust. 

in the meantime, you pour your energy into rebuilding both your friendship with yeonjun as well as his fragile heart. the first few hangouts with just the two of you are awkward with a tinge of melancholy, with conversations feeling a little too short. fortunately, your shared friends are there to help: you and yeonjun are invited to video game nights at soobin’s, or a cute new cafe that kai wants to check out, or just a walk around the park. the silences feel less awkward when it’s quickly filled by a joke from beomgyu or witty remark from taehyun.

from time to time you see the shine in yeonjun’s eyes disappear, even for just a moment, when he encounters something that reminds him of “the ‘h’ word” (as beomgyu refers to her): a park bench where they had a date, or a dress on a passerby that looks a lot like something she would wear. sometimes one of his friends would recognize it and quickly divert his attention elsewhere. soon those diversions occur less and less often as fewer and fewer things remind yeonjun of her.

but things don’t truly feel normal to you until a month and a half later. your project at work has gone well, and yeonjun has completed the first draft of a mixtape he’s making. just as you muse to yourself that a reward would be nice, your phone buzzes.

that afternoon you and yeonjun stroll down the shopping district a few minutes away from his house, trying on this and that. it isn’t long before you find yourself spending over your budget; it’s hard not to when yeonjun is constantly egging you to buy something you really want. “c’mon, y/n,” he whines as you put back another cute button-down on the rack. “you deserve it! you can wear it to work for the next phase of your project!”

he giggles when he sees your eyes light up at his words. “we do have another presentation for it,” you muse.

still, you draw the line when you spot an elegant tan jacket worn by one of the storefront mannequins. you stare at it longingly as if you’ve found your soulmate, and yeonjun sweet-talks you into entering the shop and trying it on. but when you see the hefty price tag on it, you sigh.

“i can’t justify this, jjun…”

“but you look great in it! and you want it so much. you’ll feel worse if you don’t get it.”

“maybe…” you glance down at the shopping bags in your hand. “i dunno, i’ve spent so much already.”

you sigh in defeat and turn back to the store exit before you can second-guess yourself. yeonjun doesn’t follow immediately, but instead watches you go as he lingers a bit longer.

later that day, the two of you sort through all the things you bought (mostly clothes and accessories, but also a vinyl for yeonjun and a novel for yourself) in between giggles and wide eyes and a shower of compliments. yeonjun puts on a completely new outfit for you and struts down his apartment like a runway model, and he pulls you up from the floor to do the same. soon you’re laughing and clapping at each other’s performances, and yeonjun even whips out his phone to take photos of each other’s best looks.

as you rummage through your haul for one more outfit to assemble, your eyes land on a familiar spot of tan fabric. your mouth falls open when you pull it out and see that jacket — the one you’re pretty sure you didn’t buy. you glance up at yeonjun and he licks his lips before forming a mischievous grin.

“jjun, is this...”

“it’s yours.”

“you didn’t have to一”

“i saw the way you were looking at it, y/n. i just had to get it for you. c’mon, put it on.”

hesitantly, you take off the jacket you’re already wearing and put on the new one. it fits perfectly, just a little loose to let air flow in, and you love how it frames your figure. yeonjun is still smiling at you, but it’s a different smile. he looks at you as if you’ve transformed in front of him.

“you look really pretty,” he says. “let me take a few pics, okay?”

he snaps a few photos of you and you pose for the camera, and a comforting warmth settles over you. if this happened a few months earlier, you would have blushed and your heart would be doing somersaults, but now all you feel is a light flutter. everything feels fit in, like the final piece of a puzzle slotting into place.

you lock eyes with yeonjun as he takes the last photo and puts his phone away. as you whisper “thank you” to him, the gleam in his eyes is reflected in your own. there it is, that indecipherable look of his that makes you feel warm.

you still love him 一 there’s a part of you that still knows that. but over the last month and a half you’ve simply learned to live with your feelings, letting them fill you with lightness for a few moments and then letting them go. feelings or not, you’re just glad to have yeonjun in your life again. even as a friend, his presence is a soothing balm against the stresses of life.

一

months later, yeonjun is sprawled on your couch again, his head on your shoulder as you scroll through your list of rom-coms on your laptop. at one point the two of you resumed your pho and rom-com nights, and you’re glad for it; few things give you as much comfort after a long week of work.

after scrolling back and forth a few times, you pause on the same movie you’ve always watched together and give him a quick look. he simply smiles.

“don’t you get sick of this one?” you ask.

“not really, the ending always feels nice. are you… tired of it?”

“no no, i— i was worried that you’re tired of it.”

“me? never.”

“perfect, ‘cause i’m not either.” you give him a knowing grin and press play.

at this point you both know this movie so well that you recite along to every line. you do the female lead’s lines, yeonjun does the male lead’s, and you even sing along to the soundtrack. yeonjun stretches out on your couch even more, his head ending up in your lap, and in the movie’s quiet moments you find yourself playing with his hair. when the big confession happens you can feel him holding his breath and then releasing it in a laugh when the two leads finally kiss.

the credits roll and he glances up at you, smiling in satisfaction. you smile too and hum along to the end credits song. as the movie ends, you let yourself bask in it: you stretch out your arms, yeonjun sits up to lean on your shoulder again, and you lay your head atop his. the two of you remain like that for a while, sitting in comfortable silence.

“don’t you ever get jealous of them?” you ask.

you feel his head shake a bit as he chuckles. “i hate to admit it, but yeah. rom-coms always make getting together look so... fun.”

“right? i wish my life was like that.”

“god, me too.”

“i swear, it drives me insane,” you huff. “every time i watch this i want to start dating again or something.”

a few more moments of silence. yeonjun lets out a soft exhale and you feel his body grow tense. the air in your apartment seems stuffier.

“speaking of which, i have to tell you something.” 

“me...?”

you’ve never heard yeonjun sound so solemn. his head weighs down on your shoulder. “y’know, i’ve been uh... thinking of dating again.”

“oh... where are you dating this time? did beomgyu set you up again?”

he shakes his head, looks up at you for a split second, then looks down at his hands. you see the tips of his ears turn pink.

“actually, i... i have someone mind. someone i want to ask out, i mean.”

with those words the feelings you’ve brushed aside for so long come back in full force. your heart beats so hard it feels like it’s slamming into your chest. when you speak, your voice shakes.

“oh... who’s the lucky one?”

“i-i’ve known her for a while. she’s sweet and fun to be around... we’ve been hanging out a lot more often these last few months. we get along really well, at least i think we do...”

“sounds like you have chemistry with this special girl,” you say, the words heavy on your tongue. the hammering of your heart floods your ears. “so what’s stopping you from asking her out?”

yeonjun sits up to face you fully. you sense the effort it takes for him to look at you 一 has he ever been like this around you before? 一 and you reach for his hands. they’re trembling, and his ears go from pink to red.

“a long time ago,” he starts, voice shaking, “i kissed her. i kissed her after my last breakup. and i wasn’t thinking straight, i was just so lonely that i wanted to be loved again 一 but i can’t do that to yo— to her, she’s one of my best friends, i don’t want yo— her to be a rebound 一 but then you said we could start over so we did and i dunno, at one point i started liking you, i fell so hard i don’t know wh一”

you interrupt him with a kiss, your lips gentle on his. you feel him kissing you back, his movements gentle as his hand comes up to hold your head in place. you find yourself pressed against him and he’s even warmer than you remember, warmer than those dreams you had so many months ago.

when you break apart, his eyes are glazed over in a look of pure admiration. 

“y/n...”

“jjun, i...” heat spreads across your face. “i’ve loved you for years.”

“then why didn’t you say anything?”

“how could i? what if you didn’t feel that way and it ruined our friendship? and with all the other guys too?” your heart is still beating fast but you let out the words while your boldness still has a hold on you. “and then you dated hana and i cried but i wanted you to be happy 一 then you broke up and you kissed me and i liked it, and i hated myself for liking it because you were 一”

yeonjun pulls you into him, arms encircling you, and as you keep rambling into his chest he soothes you with one hand combing through your hair. his other arm grips you firmly, and your own arms find a firm hold around his neck.

“i love you too, y/n,” he whispers into your hair before leaving a kiss there. “it’s okay.”

“i love you, so much...”

he pulls apart to get a good look at your face. as he sees a few tears start to roll down your cheeks, he brushes them aside with his thumb.

“so this girl,” he says, affection lacing his words, “after we kissed, she said we could start over. and we did. and i’m really glad we did, because i fell for h一 for you so hard.”

you lean your head forward so that your forehead touches his. “really?”

“really. and i...”

“do you want to kiss her again?”

yeonjun’s breath hitches and his eyes meet yours. there it is 一 that same look of his that makes you feel light. the one that, you realize, makes you feel loved.

“can i?”

“please,” you whisper.

he closes the gap between your lips and his, and this time you feel only relief and bliss.

[freyaphoria]

Hey!! Sorry I was busy with school so I didn't get the time to log on.

My ask was a yandere Yunho one where you manage to escape your room (after a... session?🙂), knowing Yunho is still in the house. You try leaving but he doesn't let you. So you run to the kitchen to get a knife and you threaten to hurt him. But he smiles, knowing you would never hurt him. But then you realize that you would never leave the place, and therefore turn the knife around with full intention of killing yourself, and that's when Yunho's eyes widen.

I was thinking that you would finish/write the story however you want, but that's basically what happens. I'm a big fan of your Yandere work especially the Yeo one where he was pulling out nails. I've never read anything like that on Tumblr before.

Yeah that was my ask. It's usually always the good authors that don't have a million works😭

a/n: First of all, I realize this has been sitting in my drafts for a very long time and I apologize for responding after 5262627 years. And please, PLEASE can I have some feedbacks? I'm open to any feedback, good or bad; whether it's about this fic or in general.

Give it a Taste

tw: yan!yunho, yandere themes, implied sex, violence, knife, anger issues, blood, handcuffs, mentions of killing and self harm, yunho is kinda manipulative, stabbing

wc: 1.7k

taglist: @aim-blossom

Living with Yunho was difficult. You were especially tired of the jealousy fights that whenever you went out and the whining when you came home about whether you were paying enough attention to him or not. You usually do the same things every day; come home from school, spend time with Yunho, don't talk to anyone when you go out, come home again, spend time with Yunho again.... This same cycle went on and on and on. When you wanted to take a step and get rid of this cycle, Yunho did something you never expected (or did something you expected but didn't want to admit to yourself) and imprisoned you in his house. At first you thought he was just kidding and would take you out of the house after a few days; After a few days turned into a few weeks, you realized that he was really serious. You screamed at him, told him that you had a life outside and he couldn't keep you here forever, but he never listened to you; On top of that, he took your phone and cut off all your communication with the outside.

When your love for him gradually faded away and was replaced by fear and anger, you realized that you were dealing with a stranger, not your ex boyfriend. He was just a devil in the body of your goofy, loving Yuyu.

Yunho became very angry when you stopped loving him; His anger was increasing day by day and he was starting to explode at you. If you don't hug him, kiss him, or don't do what he wants when he wants, Yunho will grab you by your hair with his big hands and drag you to your room. Usually he would either lock you in your room until you knew your place or punish you with his own methods. In order for him to punish you, you would have to really cross the line and make him so angry.

You were tired of this life. You were tired of all the harm he had done to you. First, he would use all kinds of violence on you, and then at night, to make up for what he had done, he would fuck you as if nothing had happened, as if you were a very happy and passionate couple.

He was using your body completely. He was using you completely for himself, by loving you, by punishing you, by kissing you, by fucking you. Your body was completely in his hands.

Yunho had now become someone who gets angry easily; your Yuyu never got angry, you never saw him angry. But right now, the devil in disguise wrapped his big and strong hands around your neck and dragged you towards your room, while you scratched his arms with your nails and made them bleed to get rid of his grip.

You didn't remember how much he punished you, but when you come to yourself, you were lying on the floor of your room, with your bloody body.

You had to do something now. If you didn't stop him, he would take over your mind as well as your body, and then your soul, turning you into a completely soulless and unthinking doll; a doll that he used only to satisfy his own pleasures...

You pulled yourself to your feet, using your arms as support. Your body was so feeble from all the things he had done to you, so you stumbled when you stood up. You didn't have a plan, you just wanted to get out of here. Maybe he wouldn't want to see you because he was so angry with you today and he would let you go?

But you fell to the ground before you could walk very far. Since you couldn't feel your legs very much anymore, it didn't hurt much when you fell on your knee. You couldn't even walk, where were you planning on going?

You tried so hard not to burst into tears as you crawled towards the door. If he didn't lock the door, which he usually did, that was a message from the universe to you to run away and never come back no matter what.

The door wasn’t locked. Yunho was probably testing you, but you didn’t care. The door opened with a chilling creak, and the cold air from the hallway hit your blood-soaked satin dress, making you shiver. You didn’t know where the hell Yunho was, he was nowhere to be seen. With one last ounce of strength, you stood up and started walking down the hallway. If Yunho saw you here, he would definitely fuck you right there, he wouldn’t care how much you were hurting after the last session.

You didn't want to think about anything but getting out of this hell right now. Just before you reached the front door, you were frozen in place by the arms wrapping around your waist. You felt your heart begin to race uncontrollably. All your muscles were tense, and every part of you that was injured was aching because of the tenseness.

"Why do you have to be so difficult? All you had to do was sit in your room like a good whore and wait for me to fuck you." His hands on your waist slowly moved down to your hips and then to your thighs. "Why you making things difficult when we can be happy together?" He buried his face in your hair, which was getting sweaty from stress, and kissed your neck. "How can you be so ungrateful after all the good things I've done for you?" When he squeezed your inner thigh, every tight muscle of your thigh from last night ached in pain. "Why don't you save your life by being an obedient puppy? All you have to do is surrender yourself to me, and I will give you heaven." When you heard the familiar clicking sound, your brain sent warning signals throughout your body.

The sound of the handcuffs being opened when he's really angry at you and your punishment is going to be very harsh.

You didn't know how you escaped, but you freed yourself from his grip and ran to the nearest room, the kitchen. He had the handcuffs on his right hand and was approaching you. If he put it on you, you would never have a chance to escape from here again.

You had to protect yourself. You should have stopped him from coming towards you. Without thinking, you grabbed a knife from the knife holder next to you and pointed it at him. "Don't come any closer! Or I'll stab you!" Judging by your shaky hands holding the knife awkwardly, it would be impossible for you to stab someone as tall and bulky as him before he stopped you, but you were trying your luck anyway. You would never hurt him; you both knew that. No matter how much he hurt you, you couldn’t stab him, let alone kill him. This meant that you would live with this devil until the day he was done with you, being subjected to his tortures. If you couldn't kill him, why not kill yourself? At least you wouldn't suffer any more.

He giggled at you. "If you hold the knife like that, no one will take you seriously. Let me show you how to hold it-" As he approached you with a smile, he suddenly froze in place and his eyes widened. You turned the knife towards you and placed it against your neck. He was absolutely certain that you wouldn't kill him, but he wasn't at all certain that you wouldn't kill yourself.

You were holding the knife so confident and firmly against your neck that small cuts had formed on your neck and were beginning to bleed. "Am I holding it correctly now?" Yunho didn't know what to do. If he got close to you, you could cut your neck. If he just stood there, again you could. In order not to scare you any further, he put the handcuffs back in his pocket and raised his hands. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just put the knife down." You shook your head. "You're not thinking clearly. Put the knife down and let's sit down and talk. I promise I'll forget about this behavior." Liar. You were sure that the moment you put the knife down he would jump on you. "Let me go. You'll just kill me sooner or later! At least I won't have to suffer any more!" "What are you talking about? I will never kill you! You're overreacting right now. Put down the knife. Don't make me repeat myself."

His usual threat. 'Don't make me repeat myself.' You hated the person he had become. You closed your eyes and thought about your old Yuyu. Your cute, shy lover... If you pressed the knife harder would you see him? Since he was "dead", you would probably meet him again, since you would be dead too. You had a small smile on your face and started pressing the knife to your neck. The warm thick liquid began to flow down your neck towards your collarbone, warming you up in contrast to the coldness of the air.

But unfortunately, this peace didn’t last long when Yunho jumped on you and pulled the knife from your neck, taking it in his hand. "You bitch! You think you can kill yourself?! The only one who can kill you here is me!" He was shaking you and yelling. You flinched as if you had woken up from shock. You tried to get away from him, but he grabbed you by your newly cut neck and held you in place. "No, I won't give you what you want. You won't die right away, do you understand!?" He looked so scary. He was so big and you were so tiny under him. You were so scared of him.

"But if you like the knife so much, then give it a taste." He gave you a smile that was as terrifying as you'd ever seen before, before plunging the knife into your leg.

[d1xonss]

Hey have a great day! 🫶🏻🪻Could you write about Reader who lives in Alexandria when The group first were brought by Aaron.Daryl noticing the resemblance between him and reader being distant from actual citizens in Alexandria and not wanting to participate in parties or fun always going out from the gates to forest.Reader also has a huge scar on her eye something like Carl’s. Daryl making her feel beautiful showing each other their scars and fluffy ending

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2k

AN ~ Me actually finishing a request that’s been sitting in my drafts forever?? Everyone clap😌. No but seriously, I'm proud of myself for finally getting this done, I hope it was worth the wait and you guys enjoy it. xoxox

You were the first person he noticed. That’s what he thought anyway. He wasn’t focused on the new houses, the strong walls, or the many unrealistic luxuries the new community provided. His curiosity solely remained on you from the very first moment he could remember.

You were different from the other people who lived in the area. Whilst they were all warm and welcoming the second he and his family stepped through the gates, you didn’t seem the least bit interested in their arrival. Though you were still present, watching from a distance as you absorbed the new faces, yet you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to greet them properly. He remembered how you stood on the porch of your house, your arms folded over your chest as you eyed everyone somewhat suspiciously. He remembered how your gaze seemed to linger on Carl and Judith, noting the two kids that needed a place like this to be safe.

But the thing he would surely never forget, was when he first spotted your scar. From a distance even, he could make out the shape of a long, crooked gash that traveled from the middle of your forehead and down toward your eye, stopping in the area right above your cheek. It was prominent, noticeable from even a hundred feet away, and something that surely was proof that you had been through a lot. Though even if you didn’t have any evidence on your skin, Daryl could still tell from your weariness that life outside of these walls wasn’t all that generous to you. Just as it hadn’t been for him.

Weeks seemed to pass by, and he still didn’t even know your name. Yet he was very observant whenever he managed to spot you walking down the streets of Alexandria, almost as if he had a sixth sense like he knew you were near. Most of the time he would just watch you, curious and hesitant, not looking to bother you though he couldn’t help but be intrigued. However, he picked up a pattern in your routine, noting that around the same time everyday you would leave the community to head off into the woods. For hours you would just disappear, not coming back until the sun was starting to cast an orange and pink glow to the sky. 

Though every time you would return, you came back with nothing. Not an animal, not a single can of food, nothing. It confused Daryl slightly, wondering what it was you did out there for the entire day only to come back empty handed.

He felt drawn to you, relating in a way that the others couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Whether you knew it or not, the two of you seemed to have a lot in common, not even needing to be on speaking terms to know that for a fact. Both quiet and reserved with a harsh past, not liking to interact much with others seeing as you hardly left your home, other than to head off into the forest day after day. The wilderness alone seemed to be something you both enjoyed as well. Perhaps you also liked to hunt, or maybe you also had a love for bikes and trinkets. Daryl didn’t know for sure, but one of these days, he wanted to find out.

The man wasn’t good with words, which was why it had taken him so long to build up the courage to speak to you in the first place. But when he spotted you sitting near the pond, reading a book he was surprisingly familiar with…he took a chance. For the first time in his life it seemed like, he threw caution to the wind and decided to go through with it before he changed his mind.

His hands clenched and unclenched nervously with each step he took to approach you, not even fully knowing what to say once he got there. He racked his brain over and over again as you were just a few feet away now, but ultimately he ended up with nothing, now awkwardly just standing in front of the bench you sat at.

But sensing his presence, you looked up from the pages to see him lingering near, his heart doing a flip in his chest. You were…beautiful. He had never really seen you up close until this very moment, but now that he had, it was like he never wanted to look away. He could see the gold flakes in your eyes, the freckles that were scattered all over your face, and lastly…the scar that was embedded in your flesh. But it didn’t bother him at all. In fact…he liked it.

A sheepish, lopsided smile crossed his face as he nervously ran a hand over the back of his neck, “Hey…”

He watched as you slowly smiled back at him, setting your book off to the side, something he didn’t necessarily expect. But you had a certain look to your expression, telling him that you had been wanting to seek him out just as much as he did you.

“Hi…” your voice spoke softly.

And from that point on, he was hooked.

The two of you had grown to be insuperable, which was somewhat of a shock to the rest of the community seeing as neither of you really liked anyone. But with each other, it was somehow different. Like there was an understanding there. You could be sat in comfortable silence without really being alone, enjoying each other's presence even if you didn’t have the energy to fill the quiet. Or you could have company when going on small runs or hunting trips, which Daryl ultimately found out you liked to do. Or there would be times where neither of you could seem to shut up, bouncing stories back and forth as you shared a bottle of whiskey which also helped loosen the tongue.

But the bottom line was, you were happy. For the first time in your life, you finally felt like you had found your person. A soulmate you didn’t even know existed, yet he seemed to fall right into your lap.

Though one afternoon, Daryl noticed you were a bit quieter than usual. At first he didn’t think much of it as he assumed you didn’t feel like talking much that day. But the longer he observed you, the more he could sense that something was wrong, that something might’ve been bugging you. And the truth was he was right, something had been bothering you. But you would rather die than bring it up to him.

Your voice filled the silence of the forest as the two of you sat in the grass of the clearing, reading aloud from the book that was propped up in your hands. Daryl observed you as he laid on his back, one arm placed underneath his head as the other drew absentminded circles up and down your arm. He usually wasn’t one for physical touch, in fact most of the time he cringed at the thought. But again, with you, it was different. He felt comfortable enough to be open and vulnerable with you, just as you were with him. Or so he thought until he slowly came to the realization that you were clearly keeping something from him.

Once you finished the chapter and closed the book to set aside, he let the silence linger for a moment before he spoke quietly, “You okay?”

You looked down at him, forcing a small smile, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

He tilted his head, “Come on. Ya know you can talk to me bout anythin.” he said as he slowly sat up to scoot beside you, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

A soft sigh left your lips, “I’m fine.” you repeated.

“Yer a terrible liar.” he retorted, though he didn’t push much further. He knew if you wanted to tell him, you would, and he didn’t want to make you uneasy by bringing up the subject over and over again. He just worried about you, being someone he cared about deeply, it came at a price of some heavy protectiveness.

You slowly shook your head as you looked down at the few wildflowers in front of you, “Just…one of those days.” you admitted quietly.

His heart sank a little as he knew what you meant by that. There were times where you would get down in the dumps about yourself, feeling a bit more insecure than usual. It was something common, hell he even knew the feeling himself, but it still hurt to see. Especially when he couldn’t wrap his head around it; to him you were the most stunning person in the entire world.

After a moment he gently reached out to take your chin in his grasp, turning your face so you would look at him. His eyes studied you, his thumb moving up to trace the line of your scar, the same insecurity that your mind seemed to linger on the most.

“Yer beautiful.” he said softly.

You huffed quietly with a slight roll of your eyes, clearly trying to brush off his comment as if it didn’t register or matter to you. “M’ serious.” he tried again.

“Well, I don’t feel beautiful.” you gently argued, “Everyone always stares…like this is the only thing they can see when they look at me.” you said quietly as you gestured to the thing marking your flesh.

He tilted his head a little as he took in your words, knowing where you were coming from as it couldn’t be easy having to deal with that every single day. But somehow he wanted to prove how special you were, how breathtaking you were in his eyes, how he hardly even focused on your flaws. Because to him, your “flaws” were only what made you more perfect to him.

“You wanna know how I see ya?”

You tilted your head at him, as if you knew his answer would make you cry and gag at the same time as affection was still something you were getting used to. Though at the same time, you wanted to hear.

“I see ya as someone who’s got the biggest heart the world has ever seen. I see ya…as someone brave, and smart…and stubborn as all hell.” he listed. You couldn’t help but laugh at the last one, knowing it was true.

“But mostly…when I look at you, I see the most beautiful person I ever laid my eyes on.”

The sincerity in his voice was enough to cause a lump to form in your throat, knowing that he meant every word. He truly cared about you, he had proved that time and time again since you had met him. Honestly, you didn’t know what you did to deserve someone who cared about you so dearly, but you sure as hell weren’t going to take it for granted. Not now, not ever.

“I know it’s not an easy thing to get past…shit, m’ still self conscious about my own demons sometimes. But whenever ya start to feel like this…I just want ya to know I’ll always be there to reassure ya. Alright?”

You slowly nodded your head, leaning forward to wrap your arms around him in a hug, sighing at the feeling of his touch. His hands gently gripped your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, willing to hold you for as long as you needed. Willing to tell you however many times you needed to hear it, just how special and important you were. He wanted to make sure you felt loved, knowing that you hadn’t received much of that in your past. It was like he wanted to heal your inner child, just like you were doing for him.

“I…” you started to say, but the words seemed to get lodged in your throat, not fully knowing how to express yourself comfortably.

But Daryl just tightened his grip on you, “I know…me too.”

~ Thanks for reading! (And for your patience)

[marvelous-slut]

Rekindle - Opie Winston x Reader

Y’all I’ve underestimated just how sexy Opie is. Like, stop for a minute and look at him. I’ve literally had this in my draft forever and I’m glad to finally get her out.

Warnings: MINORS, as always DNI! 18+ ONLY! Smut head folks.

_________

You turn the engine to your car off as you finally made it to the familiar garage. Teller Morrow. It had been at least 10 years since you’d gotten out of Charming and never looked back, even sitting in the garage brought back too many memories for your brain to count. Most were horrible memories, your father Otto being arrested right outside the club house/garage. Your mother coming in late into the night, drunken and loud. Knocking over things she didn’t need but wouldn’t throw away. If she didn’t come home, you knew she was right inside the club house sobbing for your father who was constantly in and out of prison. The more you thought about the horrible memories, the more pissed off you felt yourself becoming. You decided it was time to go in and face the members of SAMCRO, find out exactly what had happened to your mother. A part of you figured she’d gotten killed due to something with the club, or maybe one of her porn costars had beaten her to death. Whatever it was, you couldn’t allow yourself to feel one hundred percent sad about it. Your parents were never really parents, who could be when they were so invested in the club life?

You walk in to the club house, not much has changed since 10 years ago. The same smell of pussy and booze, the same mug shots hanging on the wall with the exception of a few who you assumed to be members. One struck you, taking it in as you looked at the familiar face. Harry Winston.

“Jesus Christ Ope.” You say softly, before you have any time to think about what he did or if he was still in, a voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“Well look at who’s here!” Piney, it was so good to see him. Even if he looked sick with the oxygen tubing sticking out of his nose. You walk over to him, opening your arms for his warm embrace. “How you doin’ kid?” He asks, smiling largely.

“I’m good Piney, how’d you end up with that shit hanging from your nose?” He chuckles deeply, letting out a cough once he’s done.

“Lung issues, too many Marlboros I guess.” You laugh and he pats you on the back, before you can ask any questions about Opie you get your answer. He stands outside the door of the chapel, leaning up against it and seeming like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Seeing you wasn’t something he was looking forward to like the rest of the club.

“Well, glad to see you made it out for someone’s funeral.” He speaks coldly before walking out of the club house completely. Piney can see the discomfort on your face and speaks up.

“Ignore him, he’s been a real prick since Donna died.” Donna, it had been two years since she passed. He was still mad about that? You sigh and shake your head. You didn’t attend Donnas funeral and maybe you should have, maybe you should have been there to support Opie. He’d called you after it happened, drunken and slurring almost every word that come out of his mouth. You felt it was disrespectful to Donna to come to her funeral and comfort her husband, who you dated for years and considered your first love. It didn’t feel right no matter what way you thought about it, so you didn’t come. That was the last time you’d heard from him until today.

“I guess death can do that to a person. I’ll see you later Piney, I have to go get started looking for a dress to bury mom in.” He hugs you once more, this time a little more tight than before.

“He still cares about you kid. He loved Donna, but he loved you too.” He whispers, making you go cold. You break the hug and smile at him softly, heading out the club house doors as fast as you could. Hoping Piney didn’t notice the grief written all over your face.

__________

You had been through many challenges before, but trying to find your mother an outfit for her funeral that wasn’t completely revealing may be something you weren’t able to do. She’d turned the house into an even bigger dump than it was before you left, ashtrays filled to the brim with butts, beer cans and bottles scattered everywhere. Clothes thrown to the side, on the tv, in the floor. It was a wreck. You prayed it wouldn’t be yours to deal with now. You move a pile of books on the bed to the side to lay out what clothing looked appropriate to bury someone in when a stack of photos falls out. You pick them up, looking at each one. A photo of you and Otto on his Harley, you were maybe 6 years old in the photo. It made you smile, even if there was a lot of shit memories connected to your father you did know he loved you. You knew it was shitty not to call or even visit him, if they’d even let you. You look to the next picture, feeling like someone had just hit you in the chest. A photo of you and Opie on your senior prom night.

“God, my hair. My face.” You say softly, laughing at how much different you looked. Your eyes roam over to Opie, he was much smaller than he is now. Hardly any hair on the poor boys face compared to now. You sigh, folding the picture and sticking it in your pocket. Maybe you’d get to show it to him, if he lets go of the issue of Donnas funeral before you leave. The knock at the door takes you away from reminiscing. You’re in shock at who stands behind the white, dirt covered door.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. I guess I’m bad at letting shit go.” Opie says, he leans against the frame of the door, before you can suggest for him not to do it. “Can I come in?” You move out of the door way, noticing him looking around the disaster of a house.

“It’s a fuckin’ dump. Luann couldn’t keep a house up worth a shit apparently.” You say, he laughs a little bit. “There’s no way I’m staying here. Guess I’ll get a hotel till I go home.” You say, moving around some clutter, scared to sit on the couch even after it’s gone.

“If you need a place to crash, I’m sure the club wouldn’t mind if you stayed at the house. My house is pretty empty too, wife being dead and all.” You weren’t sure how to react to the last comment, so you didn’t acknowledge it.

“Thanks Ope. I found this going through moms stuff.” You hand him the photo, as soon as he looks at it he laughs. You feel your chest tighten when he does, even after all the years apart he still had an affect on you.

“Jesus, look how fuckin’ scrawny.” He says, you remember the first time he’d ever put his kutte on, how it was so baggy on him. He’d definitely grew into it over the years. “You were pretty, still are.” He says, you can’t help but smile at the comment.

“Don’t kiss my ass just cause you were being a shit head.” He grins, knowing you were half right. He felt awful for being so cold toward you, especially this being the chance to let you know that he’s never forgotten you. How you’d haunted him nearly everyday for the last 10 years.

“Listen, I gotta get going. Got some shit with the club that needs handled. If you need to crash at my place, you know where I am.”

“Thanks Ope. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you later?” He nods his head and closes the door behind him. You place your back to the door, hanging your head down. It shouldn’t be this way, the high school sweet heart still having some stupid affect on your mind years later. You look up, opening your eyes to a large rat sitting in front of you.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You scream, grabbing the dress you’d found for your mother and slamming the door behind you.

__________

The porch light is barley shining when you step up to the door. You knock on the door, not having to wait long before it’s answered. Opie stands in the door way, only in a towel. Hair still wet from showering. You feel your eyes widen, looking him up and down. You knew it was obvious even if you had been praying it wasn’t.

“Sorry, didn’t think you’d stop by.” He says, moving out of the door way. You step in, the place was much different than your mothers. Clean, neat, no reason to be scared of being on the couch.

“So you just answer the door for anyone half naked?”

“Just the pretty ones.” You feel your face heat up at the comment. Embarrassed that you’re blushing like this. You place a hand on his thigh, rubbing it gently.

“Ope, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” You say softly, he brings your head up to face him. Looking into his eyes makes your heart go faster than it had in years. He places his hand on the side of your cheek, caressing it gently.

“It’s okay.” Before you can respond, you feel yourself move closer, kissing him. He moves his hands to your hips as you stratal him, gripping them tightly. You run your fingers through his damp hair, the last time this had happened was when the two of you were 19 years old, what you’d thought would be the last time you ever got to be this close to him. You break the kiss and head down to the towel that covered him, uncovering his hardened cock. Turns out, everything about him had grown some in ten years. You lower your head down, running your tongue up his cock as he moans out. One thing you love about Opie, he never was afraid to be loud. He’d let you know how good you made him feel. You wrap your lips around his cock, moving your head up and down. Slowly, trying to get him going and eager for you. It worked very fast, he grabs a fist full of your hair, tugging it gently trying to get you to pick up the pace. It was hard to take him in your mouth without choking, you hadn’t been blessed with no gag reflex like most. Taking him little by little however, was driving him insane.

“Too big for you to handle now?” He asks, you can just in-vision the smirk plastered across his face. You decide to take it as a challenge, taking him until he hits the back of your throat. You hold in your gags, but the tears forming in your eyes can’t hide that you’re struggling with taking every inch of him.

“Fuck.” He mutters out, leaning his head up to watch the sight in-front of him. A sight that as much as he was ashamed to admit, thought about from time to time even while he was married to Donna. You pull your mouth off of him, slowly, letting him feel every movement as you do. He groans out, as you straighten yourself up, he’s pulling at the waistband of your shorts. Silently, he begs you to take them off. You begin to unbutton them and he helps get your underwear and shorts off swiftly. Eager to be inside of you. You reach your hands down to discard your shirt before you slide yourself down onto him. Your walls stretching with every inch you take of him. Moaning out, you rest your hands on his chest. He places his hands back onto your hips, helping you move and watches your face as you adjust to him.

“Oh my God. Ope.” You whimper out, moving yourself faster and more steady onto him. A hand finds its way to your breast, grasping it firmly. He moves his hand farther up to your mouth, he drags his thumb over your lips slowly. You open your mouth far enough for him to graze it over your teeth. Before you know it, you’re flipped onto your back. The feeling of him reinserting himself makes you whine out, arching your back as he picks up a steady pace. You turn your head, closing your eyes and taking in the feeling of pleasure that’s overwhelming your senses. He uses one of his hands to turn your head back to him, holding it there.

“I want you to look me in the eyes. I want to see how good I make you feel.” The words make you even wetter than you were, which at this point you’d thought was impossible. He feels your nails digging into his back, using your hands to pull him closer to you. Looking at your face and the way you tightly had your legs wrapped around him, he knew you were close to cumming. He speeds up, thrusting into you faster and a touch harder than before.

“Fuck! Ope-“ You’re unable to get another word out before you feel yourself tighten around him. You grab him, pulling him down and smashing your lips against his. You grind against him, making sure to ride the orgasm as long as possible. Feeling you grind against him sends him over the edge, he groans out as he releases into you. You would thank God later for the birth control pills, but right now that was the last thing on your mind. He pulls himself out of you, laying down beside you as you both try to catch your breaths. You try to make the shaking in your legs stop, but it’s useless. You decide to just lay there until you don’t feel shaky or hazy.

“So much for small talk huh?” You ask, he chuckles and stretches out his arm for you to come over. You do so, resting your head on his chest. The feeling feels so good, so familiar and you hate to think about it ending. Suddenly dreading going back home.

“Yeah. Maybe we can do that in the morning.” He says, kissing the top of your head.

[nickfowlerrr]

your forever is all that i need.

pairing: max burnett x curvy!reader

warnings: angst! smut! some fluff! 18+ ONLY. kinda soft!dark max if you squint. warnings not exhaustive but if something needs to be tagged, pls lmk!

words: 7.8k

notes: this guy has been sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished for months and i finally got it done. i think i like it 🥲 i hope you will, too! please let me know what you think. 🖤

thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated.

You keep your head down, the baseball cap you’re wearing pulled low to aid your attempt at keeping your face concealed. The duffel bag you keep a tight grip on swings slightly with each step you take down the long, empty hallway of the apartment complex.

You reach the door leading to the stairwell and make your way down the steps until you finally get to ground level.

Pushing the lone metal door open ever so slightly, you peek out and make sure you’re still in the clear. No one's around. You walk through and head straight for the gate that leads you out to the parking garage.

You can feel your heart racing, your adrenaline pumping as you cross the lot. Lines of cars, but not another soul in sight.

You get the urge to look back over your shoulder as you walk but you fight against it and keep on to the car.

You’ve missed his call twice already and you just need to get out of the city before you can muster up the courage to call him back..

You unlock the doors with the click of a button as you approach. Your eyes leave the car for maybe two seconds as you pass a large cement pillar, looking down to fish your phone out of the deep pocket of your coat.

There’s a blur in your peripheral. 

You look back up, your heart seizes in your chest, and you gasp as you halt in your path. 

You suddenly find yourself mere inches from him as he stands before you, his gaze harsh as he stares daggers into you. 

His jaw is set, eyes dark as you do nothing but stare back stupidly. Where did he come from?

"Fuck, Max," you say with a heavy breath, "you scared the hell outta me."

You try and calm yourself, playing it cool. You wait for him to respond, to say something, but he doesn't. The pit in your stomach only grows deeper at his silence.

You lift your phone in your hand, doing a show of waving it at him, "I was just about to call you," you lie effortlessly.

Still, he says nothing. Eyes narrowing as he takes you in, his gaze falling to the bag in your hand.

You swallow your nerves, praying he doesn't notice, as you step to him. His hands are in his pockets as he stands tall, still looking down at your own. Your gaze is set on him, not for a second straying from his face as you stand before him, nearly pressing yourself against him; trying to search his eyes, urging him to meet your own.

When he finally does, a shiver runs down your spine, though you're not sure of its cause. 

Fear, worry, or maybe just the proximity to him that you hadn't had in a while.

Maybe something else...

His eyes are nearly black with how blown out his pupils are and the intensity of his gaze has you even more taken aback than you were a moment ago.

You can't let it show, though.

"Hi," you draw out, brows raised in faux confusion. As if you have no idea why he's acting so off. But of course you do. 

He must know. 

God, of course he knows. 

But he hasn’t said anything. So still, you keep up the charade. 

You drop the duffle lightly and wrap your arms around him as you look up at him. You're so close, so much so that you couldn't possibly get any closer - but that doesn't stop you from trying as you lean up on your tiptoes, chin tilted upward with a delicate pout playing on your lips.

He eyes you, his hands still in his pockets as he does nothing but watch.

You brush your lips against his softly, not expecting him to kiss back - and he doesn't - but he doesn't stop you, either.

You deflate, despite the expectedness of his lack of response, and let your feet meet the ground again as you tilt your head innocently at him, arms still wrapped around him.

"Max," you scoff lightly, a hint of a question in your tone. "Hey, I'm sorry I missed your call, but I really was just about to call you back," you try to defend yourself.

He stares for another unnerving moment before finally he responds,

"Calls," he corrects harshly. "Plural."

Your lips part as if you're going to speak, but you don't. Instead, you pull away from him, your brows furrowing. You let your eyes scan over his face, trying to assess him.

"Why does that sound accusatory?" you ask, letting your taken offense be known.

"What's in the bag?" he asks sharply, ignoring your question.

You stare one another down for a long moment. The thundering of your heart only grows louder in your ears as you do.

You were nervous before, scared more of what you were planning than of what his reaction would be to it. You didn’t want to tell him face to face, not because you thought he’d be truly upset but because you knew you’d back out if given the chance - whether Max cared or not.

But he was here now. 

And he's upset?

If he knows, then is this him trying to… stop you? 

If it is, great. 

You're fucked.

Your plan is completely and totally fucked. 

All of this, or at least the courage you had to attempt it, hinged on the fact that you wouldn’t have to see him, to be this close to him, again.

Your willpower around Max was near nothing and you knew that. 

Maybe you could just take your bag and go. Would he really try all that hard to keep you here? You doubted it.

You both move in the same instant, but he's faster. 

As you were reaching to grab the bag, Max planted a heavy foot on it, keeping it on the ground and out of your hands.

Your eyes dart from his shoe back up to his face. You take a deep breath as you stand straight and keep his gaze.

Well damn. It’s starting to seem like he cares.

But still, you need to get out, you remind yourself. 

You can work this. There's always a way out.

You aren't thinking a plan through, not fully, you just start talking. It’s instinct. Stay in character. Never give yourself away.

He taught you that.

"I was just gonna open it for you," you say, aggrieved.

You stay still as he slowly reaches down to grab the duffle himself, his eyes never leaving you.

You watch him right back, refusing to let your discontent show.

All that’s in there is what little personal belongings and clothes you have. It doesn’t mean or prove anything. Can’t confirm or deny whatever it is he thinks you were planning on doing.

And maybe, well maybe you don’t have to go… You can just pretend this never happened. Prove him wrong and keep up like you had no intention to leave in the first place.

Fuck, it hasn’t been a minute and you’re losing it already.

"Well," you prompt him, "open it."

He considers you and you take note of the way he grips the bag in his hand, his knuckles nearly white, his hand is clenched so hard. 

"Go to the car."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his command and move to walk to your car before his voice stops you.

"No," he grits out, "my car."

You look over in the direction he motions toward and see it, the sleek black Benz you somehow missed is parked across the way, but still on. You glance back to Max and he's already walking to it. You know you don't have a choice, not really, so you follow.

He throws your bag into the back and suddenly turns on you when you get closer, stopping you from rounding the car to get in on the passenger side.

You find your back pressed up against the vehicle as he closes in on you, jolting you a bit as he pushes you back, stealing the air from your lungs. He rips the hat off your head and throws it on the ground carelessly as he nearly snarls his words.

"How stupid do you think I am, huh?"

Your mind goes completely blank as you're stunned.

You've never seen Max this angry before, his apathy - though you hated it - was the norm. Or had been for the last six months or so. You hadn't seen him react to anything with any real care at all, not even you, in about as long. And never had you seen a real reaction from him to such a degree as this.

His anger and proximity were the only things you could focus on. That and the scent of his cologne that was invading your senses. Vaguely you register the longing for him that you’d been suppressing, the familiar scent you’d missed since having been away from him making you a bit dizzy as he crowded you.

"You know I know every trick in the book. I'm the one who taught them to you. So who are you trying to hide from? Who are you trying to run from? Because if I didn't know any better, angel, I'd think it was me." His hand is on your chin as he holds your face, his other planted next to your head as he keeps you against the car. "But I know better, don't I, baby," he smirks coldly.

You blink, lost in the torrent storms of his blue eyes, before forcing yourself to nod.

"Say it," he seethes, smile gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"You know better," you say obediently in a near whisper as your chest brushes against his with your every breath.

He nods, leaning in closer, resting his forehead against your own for the briefest of moments before placing a chaste kiss on your skin as you shudder at the contact. His lips are by your ear now as he exhales heavily through his nose, "So do you," he tsks before dropping his hands and taking a step back as you stay where you are, eyes wide.

After a second, he motions with his head, signaling for you to move. He lets his tongue wet his lips and sniffs, "Get in."

You do as you're told, no arguing. There's no point.

You fall to him. 

You’ll fall to him every time.

The second you close the car door behind you, Max peels out of the garage.

You look in the side mirror as your hat, the car, and your foolish plan to leave alone all slowly fade away.

You buckle yourself in as he speeds down the street.

You could chide yourself for your stupidity but, you really weren't all that stupid about this. You kind of knew, deep down, he'd know; that he'd see it coming a mile away. You just really didn't think he'd care.

You thought he had stopped caring a while ago. That he’d just let you go.

It was a simple plan. You'd just finished the job, Max had the money. You were supposed to meet up with him back home, the closest thing to one you'd had, and get resettled. For the time being, at least.

But you had other things in mind.

Your stage apartment, the place you'd been living for almost half a year now, didn't hold much - but neither did your duffle bag. Just the necessities. Always.

You cleared out nicely, still had the old car Max got for the job, and had enough cash to get out of the city and to last you for a while while you'd try to get settled somewhere new.

You had enough practice being someone different, becoming someone else for the sake of the job, you were sure starting fresh away from here would be easy compared to what you'd been doing the past three years.

And you were sure Max wouldn't care. He'd certainly given you that impression.

That he was over you. That he couldn’t care less.

You were tired. and sad. and lonely. 

You never thought you could feel that way with him. It tore at you, the hurt threatened to dismantle you completely.

He was so close, but so, so far. 

That’s what hurt the most.

He was right there, but he acted like you weren’t. You thought you’d done something wrong at first. You still remember the first night you kissed him and he just… didn’t kiss back.

You pretended you didn’t notice his lack of reciprocation but you quickly whispered a goodnight before you eventually cried yourself to sleep while he stayed out in the living room on his laptop.

He didn’t even bother to mutter a goodnight back.

With each month it only got worse.

He’d stop by your apartment less and less and would always be out when you tried to stop by his.

You realized maybe you hadn’t done anything, maybe he was just done with you. But he didn’t end things. No, he needed you. For now, at least. Until you finished the job, or maybe until he stumbled onto someone new.

You remember all he told you about his old partners. He was burned once and he’d be damned if he ever let that happen again. 

You’d taken his face in your hands, peering into the depths of his deep blue eyes and swore to him he’d never have to worry about that with you.

And you were keeping your promise, weren’t you? You hadn’t tried to screw him over. You finished the job, made sure he got the score. All you were doing was leaving him to his own devices, the way he clearly preferred it. If anything, you were doing him a favor. Seeing yourself out so he wouldn’t have to end things himself.

Because, really, what were you supposed to do if not leave and put you both out of your misery? You couldn't take it anymore. 

You loved him so much. 

You love him so much. 

You don’t want to leave but you can’t stay. Not like this. You’d rather miss him by being hundreds of miles away than miss him while he keeps you just a room away. And you couldn’t be there when he’d inevitably find that someone new. You couldn’t just wait for the final sword to be pierced through your heart.

You wouldn’t be able to live through it.

The tension is thick as you sit silently, looking listlessly out the tinted window while the city passes by you in a blur.

It’s not until Max gets on the highway that you realize you aren’t going home. You look over to him, staring for a moment as you try to keep your heart from racing. You aren’t scared, just concerned. You don’t like not knowing.

“Where are we going?” you ask after a long few seconds.

He doesn’t respond, his face still stony as his anger radiates off of him. He puts on music without sparing you a glance and you take it as your cue to be quiet. He’s too angry to talk right now, and though he’s pissed at you, he doesn’t want to snap on you. 

It’s almost midnight, the lanes all across the road almost completely empty as he keeps on driving. You give up guessing where you’re headed to after he passes the last exit you recognize without getting off and resign yourself to the unknown.

You look out at the dark sky, the stars glowing brighter the further away from the city you get. 

You find some solace in that. 

As you rest your head against the window, your eyelids begin to feel heavy as your breathing slows.

You try to fight off the sleepiness as it threatens to take you down, but it's to no avail. Within a minute, you're sleeping as Max continues down the highway.

—

You startle awake at the honking of a semi truck, jolting up from where you lay on the reclined passenger seat. When did you do that? You blink your bleary eyes open as the sun shines brightly outside. You recognize you’re still in the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up, fixing the seat when you do.

You swallow thickly and unpleasantly as you cringe. You feel gross and a little disoriented from the heat of the sun combined with the weight of your long sleep.

You look around and realize you’re at a gas station. Checking the time, you find it’s already past seven. You’re surprised that you’ve slept so long, and that Max had driven for the same time. It dawns on you then that you have no idea where you are, and after seven hours of driving, you’re even more confused than you were last night.

Max isn’t at the pump, so you figure he must be inside.

You get out of the car, rubbing your eyes before you make your way across the lot and into the store. 

You see him right away as he stands at the coolers grabbing water. On your way to him, you stop at the small toiletry section and grab a cheap disposable toothbrush. 

You approach him carefully as he turns and spots you, waiting for you to get to him.

“Hey,” you say awkwardly, not knowing what else to go with. “I just need the bathroom, I’ll meet you back at the car.”

You don’t wait for a response, not sure he’d even planned on giving you one, as you head toward the big sign labeling the restrooms.

You quickly find a stall and relieve yourself. As you wash your hands at the sink, you can’t help but cringe at your reflection. Your makeup from yesterday is smudged and you look a little crazy, admittedly. You are feeling more well rested, though, so there’s at least one thing to be thankful for. You never slept well alone, and despite the physical discomfort of sleeping nearly eight hours in a car, this was the first time in months you’d gotten more than four hours of sleep without disturbance. 

You open the package and take out the ninety nine cent toothbrush with the toothpaste already included. You run the bristles under the water for a second before you quickly brush your teeth. You really just want the feeling of sleep out of your mouth. You scrub at your tongue before spitting out the remnants of the sudsy paste and swirling with a bit of water.

The toothbrush does its job but doesn’t leave you with the minty feeling you were hoping for. As you toss the brush and the ripped packaging in the trash on your way out of the bathroom, you debate snagging a travel size mouthwash on your way out. 

You stop in your path as you walk by a display of sunglasses. You don’t know what it is about the stand that somehow takes you back but you find yourself wondering when the last time you were in a gas station was. It’s silly, but you think it’s been a long while. 

You look around and don’t see Max, but when you glance out the large glass window, you find him putting gas at the pump. His brilliant blue eyes hidden behind his dark, name brand glasses.

You turn and start looking at the cheap sunglasses, grabbing a pair of pink bedazzled ones and trying them on. You laugh at yourself in the small mirror before grabbing another pair to try on. 

You go through five or six different styles before you settle on a simple, sleek black pair.

You aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be in the car, but you know you don’t want the sun shining in your eyes.

Before walking up to the counter, you wander around the aisles a bit, glancing outside every so often to ensure Max is still there.

You smile at the soda fountain and though you’re tempted to get the largest size they have, you know you’ll be lucky if Max lets you bring even the small one into his car without a complaint.

You fill the 12 oz cup with crushed ice and some raspberry iced tea, taking a sip before filling it back up and snapping on the plastic lid.

You don’t know why you’re feeling so free.. giddy, almost. It’s a stark difference from last night, and so far from anything you’ve felt these last few months, too. 

It’s nice, not feeling so sad. And the more you wake up, the lighter you feel. 

You mindlessly drink your tea as it cools you with each sip you take.

You glance out the window and see Max putting the cap back on the gas tank, so you quickly make your way to checkout.

You set down your drink and the glasses and fish in your pocket for the crumpled twenty you know you had.

As you pull it out and try to straighten it, the young blonde cashier speaks.

“Glasses are buy one get one right now,” she tells you as she rings you up, popping her gum.

“Oh, nice. Thanks,” you say as you flit back over to the stand. You knew which pair you were gonna grab the moment she let you know about the deal.

You smile as you grab them and hand them to her to scan when you get closer. 

“It’s gonna be $11.14. You want a bag?”

“Uh, yes, please. And can I get two of those scratchers, too?” you ask pointing to the glimmering black and silver dollar scratch offs. She hums in affirmation as she pulls two for you and adds them to your total.

You hand her the twenty and grab the bag and your drink before pocketing the change when she gives it to you.

“Have a good one,” she bids you.

“Thanks,” you smile, “you, too.”

You walk to the car and pull your jacket off before you climb in as Max starts the engine.

He eyes your drink and bag but doesn’t say anything as you throw your jacket into the back and then buckle your seatbelt. 

“I got you water,” he finally says after a moment.

You look at him in return, “thanks,” you say softly. There’s still some tension lingering between you, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it had last night. This right here is the problem. When you’re together, everything is better. Even when it isn’t.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going now?” you ask, watching him closely.

He starts driving, heading out of the lot and back onto the highway.

The sun blinds you as you shield your eyes and quickly fish out the bejeweled pair of pink sunglasses you’d gotten free.

Max looks over to you briefly before returning his gaze to the road and your heart soars as he smiles to himself at your glasses.

“We’re less than an hour away,” he answers you without really answering you. 

“You drove all night?”

“Yeah. You know I don’t mind a long drive. I have patience,” he says the last word more harshly as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

There it is, you think to yourself. 

Of course he wasn’t letting it go so quickly. He’d bring it up when he was ready to talk about it, and as he shifted his complete focus back to the road, you knew that time wasn’t now.

You watched as his jaw ticked slightly and you sighed to yourself.

Grabbing your cup, you took small sips from the straw, enjoying the way the drink went down. Cool, sweet, and smooth. 

It relaxed you, easing the twisting of your stomach.

You settled in your seat and pulled out your phone. 

You weren’t surprised by the lack of notifications; there wasn’t really anyone you kept in constant contact with, aside from Max.

As you looked up out the window, you were struck by the beauty that surrounded you. Gorgeous trees lined either side of the highway, and it was hitting you now how far away from the city you really were.

Max gets off at the next exit and you’re even more surprised by the naturescape you find yourself driving through. You’re on a two way road now and there’s no other cars in sight. As the road winds up and up, the sun is blocked out by the trees. Only glimmers of sunlight streaming through them every now and again as you continue on. You push up your glasses and look over to Max as he keeps driving, looking more relaxed once again.

It isn’t until you come upon what seems to be the start of a very long driveway that Max looks over at you.

You don’t return his gaze as you're wonderstruck at the massive house he’s driving up to. The long winding drive leads to a garage that is empty when it opens for Max’s car. The front yard is expansive and though it still blends into the wooded area, it’s well maintained. 

You don’t even realize your mouth is hanging open until Max’s fingers gently take hold of your chin.

“You think this is nice, wait til we get inside,” he says before rescinding his touch, shutting off the car and getting out. He walks around and opens your door for you as you unbuckle. 

You get out and pull your things from the back seat while he goes to the trunk.

You follow him and you're stunned when you see it’s packed full of his things. You stare stupidly as you watch him grab his own duffle and a suitcase before leading you out of the garage and up the path to the front door.

He unlocks the door with a key and pushes inside before stepping aside and letting you in.

You stand there in shock as you take it all in. 

It looks like it came right out of a magazine. Everything looks so perfect. Cozy and comfy, and deceptively expensive, you’re sure.

You turn to him, a question in your eyes. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks. You continue staring, eyes slightly widening as your brows raise; you’re unsure of what to say. 

It is what you wanted, what you’d talked about late at night when you’d stay up telling each other everything. Secrets you’ve never uttered to another soul, all about your deepest, darkest desires, your dreams, what you truly wanted out of this life.

You remember the exact night you’d told him this specifically. 

“A nice house,” you’d whispered into the dark as you laid against him in his bed, your head on his chest as he held you under the covers, listening intently as you spoke. “A big yard. Somewhere, away from the city. Near the mountains, maybe? Doesn’t have to be fancy. But I hope it’d be cozy. Pretty,” you smiled. “But I wouldn’t be picky. Just a nice place of my own. Somewhere I could finally call home.”

You had spoken the last sentence so quietly, so full of distant hope and longing, and mostly to yourself, you hadn’t been sure he’d even heard you. 

He had stayed quiet after that, the only way you knew he was still awake was his hand smoothing up and down your skin, almost tickling you as he lulled you to sleep with his gentle touch.

That had been the night before you were set to meet your mark. The last night Max had held you so lovingly. After that was when things started to change. He was always on the phone, or on his computer, always meeting up with someone. Growing more and more distant. Too busy for you, his apathy only becoming more evident with each passing day.

It had been a long six months.

“Isn’t it?” he asked again, his voice pulling you back to the present.

You nod, blinking to hold back the unexpected wave of tears you could feel wanting to form.

“But,”

“But nothing. It’s what you wanted. It’s what you deserve.”

You shake your head as a lump in your throat forms. “I wanted it to be real,” you murmur, voice tight. You don’t know what it is you’re doing here. What the next job could possibly entail, but this is just… a different sort of cruel. Like all you’ve ever wanted is being dangled in front of your face, but it isn’t yours to keep as you're forced to play out another charade.

His touch is on you then, turning you to face him completely before he takes your face in his hands, stepping closer to you.

“What makes you think this isn’t real?” His voice is hard though you can hear how he tries to soften it for you.

“I can’t just play pretend for the rest of my life, Max. I can’t. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not anymore. I don’t want to. To have to move around, living fake lives, never getting to settle down and make one of my own, I-”

“Angel,” he stops you, realizing what your thinking is as a tear slips down your cheek once the confession you never thought you’d say slips past your lips, “I know.”

His thumb wipes at the tear streak as he presses closer to you, leaning his head down to yours while you look up at him. The cold his eyes held before seems to melt as he looks at you. He continues.

“I’ve known. This isn’t temporary, baby. This is your house. It’s in your name and everything. Anything you don’t like, we’ll change. I bought it for you. For us.”

“Wh-,” you breathe, no words forming as you take in what he said. “For us?” your voice cracks as you repeat his words, more tears burning at your eyes. “I thought…”

“Thought what?”

It takes you a second to speak, “... I thought you were over me.”

Hurt flashes across his face before it’s replaced with some kind of indignation. 

“Over you?” he says harshly, “I’ve spent months putting all of this together for you-”

“I didn’t know that, it felt like you were ignoring me. Avoiding me-”

“You don’t get all of my attention for a little while and you just assume I’m bored with you? You think that little of me?”

“No, Max. I just - I was hurt and I didn’t, what was I supposed to think?”

“How about you think about how much I love you. Have I not made that clear? I’ve given you every piece of me. I let you in, I took care of you - I take care of you and I love you like I’ve never loved anyone,” you can feel how upset he is as he holds you tighter, his voice cutting you with every word.

“Max,” you say as you grab his wrists. He doesn’t respond, only moves you back as he walks you toward the couch. “Max,” you say again, almost pleading.

Your legs are right against the couch as he towers over you, still holding your face in his hands as you hold his wrists. 

“I love you,” he says, hurt seeping through entirely now as he speaks. You’re almost being bent back over the armrest as he continues to try to get even closer to you. You’re looking in his eyes with your bleary ones. 

“I know,” you whisper, squeezing his wrists lightly, your thumbs mindlessly running over his skin, “I know.”

“I’d give you the entire world if you wanted it,” he says. 

“I don’t want the world,” you breathe sharply. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His lips crash into yours without warning as he takes you by surprise. The intensity of the moment completely overwhelms you as you fall back over the armrest onto the couch, Max following you. 

You both move up the long couch as your kisses turn messy and fervent, your hands finding his hair as his move under your clothes.

You’ve missed him more than you’d even realized. You’re desperate for him, every little touch, the lightest of brushes of his fingers over your delicate skin. You’re pulling him as close as possible as he crowds you, the reciprocity from him filling you with everything you’d been longing for.

So caught up in the feeling of him, your mind wasn’t thinking of anything else until Max spoke, his words almost a snarl in your ear.

“Everything we’ve been through together, and you were just gonna leave me? Without talking to me, without a goddamn word?”

His hand circled your throat as he spoke, but he didn’t apply much of any pressure. Even still, the feeling enlivened and distressed you all at once. 

You didn’t have to speak your admittance, you both knew full well what you had been attempting - what point was there in trying to deny it.

“I tried to talk to you,” you whimpered, eyes watering with the tears threatening to flow over, “you never listened. You acted like I wasn't around. I felt like a ghost, like a burden on you. I didn't want to leave,” you stressed, needing him to know that truth, “but I thought you didn't want me around. I thought I’d be doing us both a favor.”

His hand relaxed around your throat and instead moved up to caress your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, staring at you with the softest look you’d ever seen. “I was caught up in all this, I was brushing you off. But, that was all it took?”

“Max,” you breathed, “even just one day without you, feels like an eternity. I didn’t think I could take it anymore.”

His nose brushes against yours as his eyes close, pained, before he presses his lips to yours, softer this time.

You return his kiss as it grows deeper, his hands moving down your body as he takes you in.

“You’re so dramatic,” he breathes against your skin. You huff, a hand in his hair as you keep him close. “Impatient,”he grits out, then another kiss, “needy.” His voice is low and rough.

You can feel yourself getting hotter with each word he speaks, and had it been anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how wet you were getting. But you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Please, Max,” you whimper, puppy eyes on display as you pout.

He pulls away, dark eyes penetrating you.

“You know what,” he breathes heavily, “maybe it's time you learn a little something about patience.”

You gape up at him dumbly, not knowing what to say.

“You think you can manage that, angel? Or you gonna try and run off on me again?”

You frown, blinking away from his harsh gaze. “I can manage,” you whisper.

His grip on your chin forces your gaze up, an unbidden whimper leaving you.

“Look at me when you’re talking to me,” he orders.

You swallow hard with a nod, “I can manage.”

—

It’s tortuous the way he moves his tongue, tracing up and down your slit before plunging in and out of your dripping hole, moving back up to swirl over your sensitive clit.

Your body is slicked with sweat, your clothes long tossed away as Max played with you, bringing you to the very edge of pleasure over and over again just to tear it all away before you could reach your release.

You swear you’re about to combust as he sucks on your clit, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. Your moan sounds from your throat as you keep your mouth shut, head thrown back in pleasure, eyes screwed shut, your hand fisted in his hair while he devours you.

Your hips buck up despite yourself and for the first time tonight, Max doesn’t pull away from you completely. This time, he grips your hip, burying his face deeper in your cunt as his fingers curl just right inside of you, coaxing you closer. 

You’re a mess of gasps and moans as he moves his fingers faster, fucking you hard and deep as he keeps his tongue focused on playing with your clit.

“Oh- god! Max, I-, Max, Max, Max, I’m gonna-”

You can’t even hear yourself and your senseless babbling as he speeds up his movements while you cry out for him.

Your orgasm shatters you, your body going tense before you shake beneath him. You’re seeing stars, that glorious warmth washing over you, the pleasure of your orgasm crashing over you in never ending waves as you pulse around his fingers. Max doesn’t stop what he’s doing until your hand in his hair is tugging at him to stop.

You’re breathless, body tired and sweaty as you try to calm down for the intense high. When Max sits up, still between your legs, his chin is slick with your arousal and release as he licks his lips. His eyes are glued to your body, roving up to your chest as it rises and falls with your labored breathing before he crawls over you. You’re face to face as his bright blue eyes peer into your soul. You feel like you’re in a trance as you return his gaze. Your hand reaches to caress his cheek before he leans closer to you, kissing you deeply, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. You moan at the feeling, and the taste of yourself still on his tongue.

“You see the pay off you can get when you just have some patience?” he husks. You whimper as he pulls away from you.

He rids himself of his shirt as you sit up and, slowly at first, reach for his belt. He doesn’t stop you and you grow emboldened.

You fumble with the buckle for a moment in your haste before you get it undone, immediately going for the button of his pants.

His hands brush yours as he unzips and pushes his pants down with his briefs, freeing his erect cock. You can’t help but reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length. Your heavy lidded eyes are glued to his body, your free hand exploring him as goosebumps break out over his skin under your gentle touch. 

His shaky intake of breath as you stroke him with one hand and ghost slowly up and down his side with the other fills you with a sense of accomplishment and pride.

You can’t keep your longing at bay as your hand speeds up, gripping him a bit tighter as you jerk him off. 

The moan that tumbles from his lips has your desire growing tenfold, but Max stops you all too soon.

He pushes you to lie back down on the couch, eyes dark and focused solely on you. The intensity steals your already unsteady breath as you release a soft gasp from his push.

It’s quiet in the house, the only sounds to be heard are your labored breaths as you wait, simmering in anticipation.

Max leans over you, planting one hand next to your head as he holds his stiff length in his other, never breaking eye contact as he guides himself to your entrance, prodding you with his cock.

Your breath hitches as he pushes his tip just inside your tight hole. You don’t so much as blink as he leans himself down closer to you while pushing further inside you. You spread your legs as much as possible as your mouth opens in a silent moan. Max holds your waist as he begins rocking in and out of you, slow and deep with each thrust he drives into you.

You tremble beneath him, your eyes wanting to roll back into your head but you don’t want to look away from him for even a second. A part of you terrified he’ll disappear if you do.

You reach for him with one hand, pulling him closer by his hip, your other holding his hand as he holds you.

Your nose tingles as he moves even slower, hitting even deeper with every stroke, his fingers squeezing your plush waist. Everything feels so intense; strong, powerful, entirely overwhelming as your eyes fill with tears once more.

He smooths his hand from under yours, up your waist, over your breast and further until he’s holding your cheek, his thumb wiping away your stray tears. He leans down as he stops his hips, keeping himself fully sheathed in your tight warmth. 

He kisses you, so gently. More tears roll down your cheeks as your eyes close, your hands urging his body closer. Your touch has his kiss growing deeper; not as soft, but just as passionate as he begins to roll his hips into yours again.

You gasp as he stimulates your clit, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours before you let him dominate it, following his lead - like you always do. 

Like you always will.

Each rock of his hips stokes the fire building deep inside you. Your hands are clutching him like your life depends on it.

You can feel your walls flexing around his length, his groan at the sensation still audible through your kissing until he pulls away, nuzzling your nose with his as he refuses to put space between you as you both try to breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been too long,” he says, voice strained, eyes screwed shut. “I’m not gonna last with the way you’re squeezing me, baby.”

You mewl as he starts to move faster. It’s evident he’s close to coming and you’re beyond grateful because you know you’re right there with him.

The sound of his hips hitting against you grows louder with each thrust, his balls are slapping against you and the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt are as salacious as they are arousing - only pushing you further to the edge.

Your toes are curling as your muscles tighten, and a strangled moan leaves you. His rhythm is completely lost now as he fucks into you relentlessly. You can’t stop yourself from coming, your walls constricting around his cock as the high of your orgasm crash over you. 

You feel the spurts of his come hitting your walls as he lets out a throaty moan, thrusting in and out of you, riding out the high as he fills you completely. Your name intermingled with curses leave his lips as he relishes in the orgasmic bliss. 

When he can’t take it any longer, the sensitivity too much for him, he gently pulls out of you before he collapses down beside you.

You’re breathless as you lay there, reaching a hand to touch his chest, just wanting to feel him.

You turn onto your side to be chest to chest, face to face.

“I’ve missed you,” you say, your voice small and tight. He strokes your face lovingly as he watches your eyes well with unshed tears.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby.”

You try to blink away the new wave of tears but you’re unsuccessful. His touch only coaxes more as you finally feel safe enough to let them all out now that you’re in his arms again. He moves to hold you against him as you shudder, nuzzling closer.

He shushes you as you cry, kissing your head and rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you. His warmth alone is a comfort. You don’t know how long you spend like that in his hold but finally your tears begin to subside.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He places a kiss on your forehead, “I know. It’s okay. And I know you, sweetheart. I know you’d never leave me, you wouldn’t have gone through with it. I know you wouldn’t have.”

You take a moment, worrying your lip before you look up to meet his gaze.

He waits for you to speak, seeing the thoughts and worry in your eyes and knowing you have something to say.

“I love you, Max. But I can’t do it anymore. I can’t live another lie. I can’t,” your voice breaks on your last words as Max cradles your face.

“Baby, why do you think I brought you out here? Why I bought all of this for you?”

Your brows furrow as you look into his soft gaze, needing him to say it outright before you can really start to believe what you think it is he means. He offers you a soft smirk,

“You can be done, sweetheart. You’re done.”

You breathe in a bit shakily, eyes wide and a pout on your lips.

“But I,” you take an unexpectedly sharp breath, “I don’t want you to leave me, either.”

He chuckles at the small tremble underlying your voice, gently kissing your pout.

“You’re so greedy,” he admonishes, holding your cheek before pulling you closer for another kiss. He sighs as he pulls away. “But if that’s what you need from me, then I’ll be done, too.”

You aren’t even thinking when you take his face in your hands and pull him to you again, pressing your lips to his firmly. You keep hold of him as you part.

“Yeah?” you ask, not sure he means it.

“For you,” he nods, “yeah.”

You share another deep kiss that takes your breath away before you have to pull away for air. You caress his hair, “So… we live here now?” The question sounds silly to you, but it’s genuine.

He nods with a smile and you nod in return.

“Well, as nice as this couch is, I’d love to see the rest of the place.”

“You ready for the tour?”

“Mhm,” you smile as he moves to get up over you. Before he can, though, you stop him. “Max, wait. I-...Thank you,” you say, carding a hand through his dark hair. “I never expected this, at all. But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” you return with watery eyes. Emotions getting the best of you yet again. But you can’t help it. You’ve missed him so much, missed being this close, hearing his voice, hearing those words.

He holds you again, lips against your ear, “I’m sorry, angel. Sorry I was so distant.” He kisses your temple. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I’ll never make you feel like that again.”

He turns your face to his and kisses you once again.

“I promise.”

There’s so much love in his gaze, and a sincerity in his eyes, one you couldn’t question even if you wanted to. So you readily return his kiss, you take him at his word. You believe him. Because it’s him.

It’ll always be him.

[rainydayathogwarts]

Open arms - Emily Prentiss

Smut - the way this fic has been sitting half written in my drafts forever. Go me for finally getting it done. Summary: Emily can't help but approach her ex in a dimly-lit bar wc: 2.1k

Emily thought that the night would be nice and relaxing for her and the team, celebrating another closed case at their favourite bar, their laughter drowning out the sounds of other people's conversations in the dim-lit restaurant. That was until her eyes locked in on a familiar figure standing near the bar, most definitely accompanied by someone. Emily froze, her hand tightly gripping her drink, and audibly gasped when you turned around, exposing your face to her.

"Y/n?" She whispered, catching Penelope and Derek's attention, who both turned to look at her. "You okay there Prentiss?" But she really wasn't. You were her only partner who ever stayed up waiting for her to come home from a case, genuinely concerned about her. You held her in your arms, letting her just sit there and open up if she wanted to. If she didn't, it didn't bother you, and you showered her with love nonetheless, always managing to pull a smile from her. And you were definitely the best in bed. Having you withering under her, relentlessly crying out her name was an image Emily would never forget.

She regretted leaving you every day, but it would keep you safe. After seeing what Hotch had to go through, she knew it was the smartest decision. Now that you were there though, in person after over a year of being apart, she wouldn't be able to stay away from you. If you would let her that was. She remembered your reaction, how you completely broke down, calling bullshit on her 'keeping you safe' excuse.

"I'm fine." She said, bringing herself out of her trance to take a long sip of her drink. "That an ex of yours?" Derek questioned, looking at you, now talking to a friend. You looked gorgeous, he thought. Your short black dress showed off your long legs and had a low cut to display your biggest weapon, the heels you wore flexing your calf muscles in the nicest way possible. Your stunning smile exposed your white teeth while a hand flipped your hair over your shoulder. He wondered how a dumbass like Emily was able to get you.

Emily's head shot back in your direction when she heard coughing, only to find out it was you, your face now going red as you choked on your drink, your friend, who Emily now realised she knew from when you dated, rubbing your back. Oh no... When the coughing stopped, you immediately looked back at her, confirming your suspicions. She returned your eye contact, awkwardly waving at you before you were suddenly facing away from her, refusing for the interaction to continue, earning a sympathetic look from your friend.

Emily heard a chorus of "Oof" and "Oh"s from the team, who were all cringing at the interaction. "Shut up." Emily groaned, stealing a shot from in front of Derek and downing it. She coughed twice, ignoring Derek's complaints, and turned to Spencer who was now telling them a statistic about exes. "It was actually found that 44% of Americans get back with their exes at some point after breaking up. And that only includes relationships post-break up instead of one night stands, so I'd say your chances are pretty high."

As much as Emily was unimpressed that Reid was giving her dating advice, she found herself walking up to you the minute your friend left, leaving you alone at the bar. Better me than anyone else shooting their shot, she thought. It was only when she stood right next to you that she realised she had no idea what to say and that the entire team was probably watching their interaction. She cleared her throat, muttering a small "Hey." You jumped slightly, rotating on the bar stool to face your ex-girlfriend. Emily expect you to frown, thrown your drink in her face even, but to her shock, you cracked a small smile at her. "Hey Em". "Can I sit?" She asked, shifting her weight from one leg to another.

You nodded, watching her as she sat. She looked different. She had cut her hair into bangs and wore her hair pin straight instead of the loose curls she'd put them in. She wore a low cut black top with black jeans as well as her go to combat boots. You assumed she came here straight from work. When you looked back up at her face, she was still staring at you, her gaze stuck on your thighs. "Um, can I get you a drink or something?" Her head shot up and she shook it "No, I've had enough to drink. Thanks." A long awkward silence followed and you looked over at the table she had come from, watching as all of her friends' heads shot in the opposite direction apart from one of them, still cluelessly observing you.

"I'm sorry - I shouldn't have-" "No!" You cut her off, cheeks going rosy. "Why don't we go for a walk or something?"

That walk led you both to the side of the road, waiting for a taxi as you made small talk, no discussion of going to either of your apartments until you were both sat in the back of the taxi on the way to your flat. Emily's hand rested on your thigh, both of your sides pressed against each other, faces mere inches apart as her free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to her. You felt your desire for Emily grow, squeezing your thighs together to get any amount of friction.

Emily's eyes caught the movement, smiling slightly as she felt her own core heat up for you. She leaned towards you to look out of the window, pressing her tits up against you as she tried to see how far away you were from the apartment, making small talk while you waited. The second the taxi driver pulled the car over, she was tossing her money at him and following you out of the car, both her hands resting on your hips as you led her into your fancy building and towards the elevator. The second you were in the elevator, pressing the button to the right floor, her hands were wrapping around your waist and she was pressing her lips against the soft skin of your neck.

You grabbed her hand when the elevator doors opened, leading the way to your apartment and frantically opening and shutting the door before you turned around, throwing yourself into Emily's arms. You slammed your lips onto hers, wrapping your arms around her neck as you pressed your body against hers. Her hands were immediately under the skirt of your dress, groping the fat of your ass in her hands. You pulled away from the kiss, muttering "couch" to Emily, who complied, bending down slightly so she could wrap her arms around the back of your legs and picking you up.

You squealed as she walked you over to your big couch, having forgotten about her FBI agent strength. She dropped you on the couch, crawling over you but you pushed her back so she fell flat on her back on the large couch, throwing a leg over her hips to straddle her. She tried sitting up but you pushed her back, kissing her again so she would give in, letting you take control of the kiss. Her hands trailed up your body until they reached your tits and she tugged at the front of your dress, letting them spill out the front of it. You gasped, and she took your shock to her advantage, throwing her hips up into yours and rolling over so she was on top of you.

Her hands were instantly on your tits, pulling and twisting at your nipple, the other one in her mouth. "Em, Emily!" You begged, trying to grind your hips into hers but she wouldn't listen, taking her time kissing all over your body. When she couldn't reach any more skin due to the fabric of your dress, she fully separated from you, ordering you to turn around so she could undo the zipper. So you got up onto your knees, allowing Emily to undo your dress and pull it above your head, before her hands were wandering again, down your stomach and into the skimpy panties you wore.

She moaned into your ear, feeling how wet you were before both her hands were at your hips again and she was tugging you towards her as she fell backwards, landing you in her laps. She welcomed your kisses, tightly gripping your hips as you ground your cunt on her jean-clad skin. Eventually, you got desperate, tugging her shirt up so you could feel underneath it, hungrily reaching for her tits. At your whine, she finishes the job for you, tossing her shirt somewhere in the room before your hands were back behind her, unclasping her bra.

Before you manage to throw yourself onto Emily even further, you feel her hand under your panties, immediately searching for your clit, which she finds in mere seconds. You hear yourself begging for her, struggling to hold yourself above her. Emily's hands manhandle you so your back in pressed against hers, your legs spread in front of you. Her hands begin wandering once more, and she inserts two fingers into your warm core. You cry out, arching your back as Emily continues to suck hickeys onto your neck.

Her unoccupied hand plays with your tits, alternating which one she massages. Your head rests in the crook of her next, trying not to buck your hips into her hand as she continues fingering you. Your chest heaves with each breath you take, and you're too far into pleasure land to think of how much of a mistake you were making. You feel the familiar knot building up in your stomach and whimper, your hands reaching below you to grasp Emily's thigh. Moaning loudly with an arch of your back, you cum on Emily's hand. Emily, who is whispering praises in your ear and brushing your hair out of your face with her free hand.

With the effects of your orgasm now gone and you catching your breath, you begin to internally cringe. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea? You will yourself to turn around in Emily's arms, whispering "Your turn", fully aware that she wouldn't say yes. "No baby, it's okay. This is just about you." You nod, allowing yourself to fall onto the couch beside her. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up." Dragging yourself up from the couch, your legs still shaking, you shut the bathroom door before Emily gets the time to follow you.

You wrap a free towel around your torso, mentally cussing yourself out, thinking of a way to get Emily out of your house. The clock on the wall reads 3:28. It's late. You should go home. Repeating the words to yourself, you open the bathroom door to be met with the tall brunette. She smiles widely, a hand coming to your hip to bring you close and kiss you softly. You return her kiss but can't bring yourself to do the same with a smile. She senses the change in your behaviour and you take that as your chance to tell her: "It's late. You should go." You look down and away from her face so you can't see the way her smile drops. "Right. Um, this was fun." Your hum is enough of an answer to her and you practically chase her to the door once she's fully clothed.

Once the door is shut behind her, you peek through the peep hole to see her bring a hand up to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She calls someone on the phone, someone you can only imagine was at the table with her at the bar. Listening closely through the door, you hear "No Derek, I did not win her heart back. She's really done with me."

But it's late. You should go sleep.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Could you do relationship headcanons for our big deal boys Jerry and Brad (and Jason and Lineman too if you want) 👉👈 Or maybe them eating dinner with reader for the first time in a while and realizing how much they miss reader?

Hi Anon! Thanks for requesting :) I can't believe I haven't done more boyfriend/relationship hc?! This has been sitting in my drafts forever and soooorta is what you asked for.

Lookism guys as YOUR boyfriend hc

Uhhh almost everyone here (Brad, Jason, Lineman, Jerry, Jake, Sinu, Daniel, Jay, Vasco, Jace, Zack, Vin, Goo, Johan, Eli, Warren, DG, Samuel, Xiaolong, Ryuhei, Eugene, Jihan, Jibeom, Hudson + crumb for Hangyul, Taejin)

Brad Lee

Happy go lucky most of the time. Brad will make you smile and laugh, your best friend as well as your boyfriend. Don't be fooled, just because he can be silly doesn't mean he doesn't take this relationship seriously. Sincere and committed, will do what he needs to make you and him work. A girlfriend privilege, or chore if you're being honest, is constantly shaving his head. If he pisses you off? Shave a stripe down the middle and hide the razor.

Jason Yoon

Self professed as not that great with words, and can be a little standoffish but worships the ground you walk on. Loyal to a fault, and waits on you hand and foot. He's not the most physically affectionate but anticipates your every need, doing things for you before you even realise you wanted them. Self-sacrificing with Big Deal and as your boyfriend. Make sure his needs are taken care of, he deserves it!

Lineman

Listen, this guy bullshits a lot. He's full of bravado and confidence but he is surprisingly earnest when it comes to you. Everything may be exaggerated and said flippantly, but Lineman does think you're the most beautiful, the smartest, the absolute best. No competition. Completely fearless with anything you throw at him. Whether that's something adventurous in the bedroom or a life plan 10 years in the future.

Jerry Kwon

If he is Jake's sword, then he is your shield. Most of the time he barely needs to do anything, just being with him makes sure thugs and troublemakers will stay away. Nevertheless, protects you from danger and cuddling with Jerry will melt all your stress away. Loves you as much as he respects Jake. Which is a whole frickin' lot. Probably more than you would ever know. A big teddy bear, and can be shy - needing you to make the first moves or read his moods.

Jake Kim

You've done it. You've reached the peak. Maximum good times, minimum mental breakdowns. He is stable, a great caregiver and maybe the funniest person you will ever meet, or at least he likes to think so. Does tend to prioritise Big Deal over your relationship and being his girlfriend. You need to be very understanding. Shame he spends a lot of time away from you dealing with the crew but he more than makes up for it with kisses and cuddles and attention (where he can spare it).

Sinu Han

Who do you think taught Jake how to respect women? Gapryong? Nah. It's this girlboss. Didn't used to have much time nor money as Big Deal boss. Now at least he has lots of time and will make sure you are top prority. Literally got yourself a whole househusband. He has nothing better to do than look after you. When you're apart, loves making and sending little videos of himself to you to cheer you up. And it's not hard once you see his beaming bright smile.

Daniel Park

Very sweet, Zack might have stole his first kiss but he wants you to be the first for everything else! His obliviousness to all the girls hitting on him would piss you off though. Once you've spoken to him and he realises, he'll apologise profusely and makes sure it's very clear that he's taken. "Yes, I've got a girlfriend. Yes, I'm very happy. Please I'm not interested!" Very easy for you to make him blush. He might have heard a lot of flattery, but just tell him how cute he looks today and he will flush bright red.

Jay Hong

Are you ready to be spoiled? Have all your whims fulfilled? This man will literally go to the moon and back for you, and he could pay for it to. Loves spoiling you, shopping with you is one of his favourite pastimes but enjoys spending time with you even if it's chilling with the pups. Writes you little messages and notes for you to find throughout the day. Very sentimental and keeps a memento of pretty much everything. Apart from having cash for days, other major girlfriend privileges include seeing his eyes and riding around on his motorbike. Which is pretty sexy, not gonna lie.

Vasco Tabasco

This cinnamon roll!! What else is there to say about him! He's innocent and naive and doesn't really know how to be the best boyfriend but he's so eager to learn and to make you happy. Make a big deal out of every milestone and anniversary. Looks forward to big occasions like meeting the parents until the actual day comes and he almost passes out from nervousness. Being with the head of Burn Knuckles means you've automatically adopted the rest of the gang too. Watch out for your sanity.

Jace Park

Goes a bit too hard on the romance front, but unfortunately picked most of it up from kdrama or romance novels. Imagine his surprise when after your first fight you actually did want space and wasn't pleased when he turned up on your doorstep. Kind hearted and good intentioned. He's dotes on you and a great listener. Insufferable to the rest of Burn Knuckles as he won't shut up about you. Once he's with you, he is WITH you. He may be 'married to Burn Knuckles', but in a relationship, you two are as good as married. And yes, he is the best househusband. Obviously.

Zack Lee

BIG softie. Clingy, a little obsessive but He. Loves. You. We've seen how he is with Mira. Being in a reciprocal relationship with someone would turn that up to ELEVEN. He will always always try his best, and gets a little insecure and sad if he lets you down but to you it doesn't matter. Seeing his effort is enough and you make sure to let him know. Will walk to the ends of the earth for you, you barely even have to ask. Also will deny he's a simp to everyone as they look on at him incredulously. Seriously? It's the most obvious frigging thing!

Vin Jin

Oh my god this guy. He will play his music for you at ANY opportunity. It's a good job you love him, otherwise you would need to jam some chopsticks in your ears. You can't help but be charmed though seeing him doing what he loves, so you take up the role as his number 1 fan. Plays it cool but he is very clingy. Probably text you with 'wyd' and if you don't respond in the next 10 mins, expect a barrage of messages. And if you're busy and haven't seen him for a day or 2? He's on your doorstep: "Here I got you a gift. Me."

Gun Park

He's a surprisingly good partner. He doesn't like wasting time and least of all his own so he knows already you're a good fit with him. The fact that he agreed to be your partner means that he already holds you in exceptionally high regard and cares about you a great deal. Still a walking red flag though. Especially cold and callous when he's had a bad day or you ask him about something he doesn't want to answer. You can go hours or even days not talking after your fights until he finally asks if you can hear him out. He's not stupid. He knows the way he reacts isn't how you should treat a partner and promises to keep working on it

Goo Kim

A rollercoaster ride of a boyfriend. In an established relationship, he can be exceptionally clingy. You better be patient and on the same wavelength as him or you're going to have a bad time. Your nights together can flit from watching anime to light arson in the blink of an eye. At least you can't say he's boring. Soft in his own way for you, and spoils you with your demands and requests, and his money! Really does let you get away with a little too much.

Johan Seong

He was shocked when he realised he cared more about you than Eden and Miro. You were too, you know what they mean to him... And now what you mean to him too. A little feral and not the best at expressing himself but if you have the patience to support him then he'll have the patience to try. Do not offer to share food with this man. Not a bite, no snacks, nothing. He would take advantage. The definition of give him an inch and he'll take a mile. Leave your plate unattended, and the food will be gone the moment you're back. Eden and Miro will get the blame.

Eli Jang

Hope you're ready for 2 cuties in your life because Eli and Yenna are a package deal. Eli never thought he would get the fairytale happy family but with you it's actually happening. He loves planning family dates and seeing you and Yenna together. He's already carved out a future for you and him otherwise he wouldn't encourage you and Yenna to bond.

Warren Chae

Absolutely adores telling you he loves you. With you the words flow, and so do the compliments. In his quieter moments, you catch him staring at you a lot until hegrabs your hand and gives you three squeezes instead. I. Love. You. Privately, renames himself from 'Gangdong's Mighty Warren Chae' to 'Y/N's Mighty Warren Chae'. Super silly, but it makes you giggle everytime. He means it though. Will look after you any way he can.

DG

Keeps you out of the spotlight. Please don't be insecure, it's not that he doesn't want to be seen with you - he's just protecting you from public scrutiny and his horde of fans. Generally cool and aloof but with you he can be surprisingly soft and romantic. Truly a k-pop idol capturing the heart of millions. You will become his biggest stan, and he would find that equal parts amusing and endearing. As long you are kept a secret, he will tell the media he has a special someone, someone that really knows him. Makes you and the general public melt everytime he is heard talking about you.

Samuel Seo

Aw Sammy. He just wants some praise and love and you readily offer it to him. Puts up a lot of walls at first before seeing that you don't care who he is or where he's from and love him for him. Definitely one to wait for you to say I love you and fall first before he could reciprocate. He needs to make sure this is real and you are real. Sometimes though, the moment just feels too right for him to keep his feelings to himself... Spends obscene amounts on you to try and impress you. It doesn't. Not really. Ok maybe a little bit.

Xiaolong

One to go to extremes to please the one he loves. Old example: Vivi. Please see updated example: You. There is nothing he will not do for you. To the point that it terrifies you a bit and you need to calm him down. "No, if you don't actually want to go on an ice cream run at 3am that's completely fine! I was only joking about punching my boss, please don't do it!!" Hope you're ready for an unconventional sex life because this man will do what he can to satisfy you, penislessly

Ryuhei Kuroda

Theres a long list of simps in Lookism and he's close to the top of the list. Hes an avid texter but since he likes to follow you everywhere, you wouldn't know. Despite how much of a shit he can be, genuinely respects you and thinks the world of you. Will happily and without hesitation sock anyone that says a bad word about you. Unlike Xiaolong, all in working order downstairs since you met. You have no issues getting him to stand to attention. Have fun!

Eugene

A bit of an absentee boyfriend. He has a lot on his plate. He never regret his position or what he's achieved until you started dating, and now he wishes you could spend more time together. When he's with you though, he's WITH you. You have his full attention. He even turns his phone off. His assistants know that they can't reach him when he's with you. Building burning down? Nope. Don't care.

Jihan Kwak

You thought he was a troublemaker at first. And you would be right. He can run rings around you, teasing and a little mean, the cause of many headaches. All the words are meant with love though. Just look at the way he looks at you as he calls you an idiot. This guy is impossibly soft for you. Make sure you don't let him get away with too much though. As the youngest and spoilt, he can be bratty and a little inconsiderate. He's no fool. Tell him and he will adjust his behaviour.

Jibeom Kwak

There's something so fun about stealing the clothes from your teddy-bear boyfriend. So what if his taste is terrible and ugly as hell. Seeing you in his t-shirt or shorts or even boxers will absolutely break his brain. A little dense, but very trusting - bit like our other cinnamonroll, Vasco. Always well-intentioned, but you may need to be explicit with him. Don't worry, he's a quick learner. Loves you an awful lot and has no problem telling the whole world, even if that means teasing from his brothers.

Hudson Ahn

There's two very people that are at the tippity top of Hudson's list. Taesoo, and you. Your boyfriend is your sun. Quiet and a little stoic, watching you with an intensity and a little smile on his face that takes your breath away. Especially when he's usually cold and reserved with most people, the fact that you can make him look like that just being in your presence? The BEST. Blessed with one of the better asses in Lookism that even Heat Daniel couldn't resist. Always rolls his eyes whenever you grope him, you not being able to resist a quick squeeze even as you walk by, but he could never tell you no.

Hangyul Baek (here's a crumb)

Looks at you a lot with a smile on his face. Which is sweet you suppose, if he wasn't a plastic surgeon and scrutinishing faces and bodies all day. And then he calls you beautiful. A true beauty. And you preen, happy with the compliment.. until. Hold on. What exactly does he mean?!

Taejin Cheon (here's a crumb)

Wew, this guy is flashy. Which is great if that's your thing. Will likely get you kitted out in all sorts of designer brands, even more so than Samuel Seo. Despite not shown as having any tattoos, has the vibe that he would get your name tattooed on his neck. If you break up? Will just get a line put through it lol.

[wtfsteveharrington]

late night talking | carmen berzatto x reader

a semi smutty blurb of him taking care of you (specifically your hair) after turning you into a mess 🫶🏻

figured i’d just put this out short then letting it live in my drafts forever :’) no real reader description outside of having a non-protective hairstyle that’s able to be braided

also mentions of hickies & piv intercourse!! otherwise it’s just him being nurturing and also mentioning kids.

carmen berzatto loves to have his fingers in your hair. he’ll rub your head while the two of you fall asleep at night. always brushes stray pieces out of your face. he holds your head in place while he fucks your throat. balls his fist around a handful while you ride him so he can pull your head back and leave a mess of hickies covering your neck. one time he got carried away while you were rolling your hips down onto him and bit down on your skin a little too hard. it left a mark for almost two weeks - a mark he'd lick and kiss to soothe every time he saw it.

on his rare days off he barely lets you get out of bed. if you two aren't tangled together then keeping you flush against his side while the two of you talk about life and the future and what shitty tv show you're both hooked on at that time.

all this to say - he leaves your hair a mess. it's everywhere by the time he's done with you. tangled and ratted and sweaty.

he sits down on the sofa and makes you sit in between his legs after one particularly intimate night. laughing as he realizes just what a mess he's made of you. he's got a bottle of detangler and a comb, making gentle work of combing out your hair while that same shitty tv show you talked about earlier plays in the background. he's so careful not to tug it too hard, smoothing it down as he goes.

it doesn't take long to get you back into shape and carmen finishes it off by doing a braid that sugar spent weeks teaching him how to do while they were growing up. he's got you taken care of now.

he pulls you up, sinking back into the couch as he keeps your frame close to his. warm and comforting. he'll always take care of you.

you keep the braid in throughout the day. he teasingly pulls on it randomly, tugging your head back to give you a kiss whenever he’s behind you. your hair being out of the way gives him better access to your neck which he fully takes advantage of while dinner’s in the oven that night.

he likes marking you up. careful to leave them just low enough where they will hide under your shirts but they’re there and you’re his.

late that night the two of you are spent and carmen practically has to drag you to the bathroom. offering a bribe of taking you to your favorite coffee shop in the morning and a walk through streeterville so you could get a good view of the lake.

he helps you undress and chucks both of your clothes into the overflowing laundry hamper. a chore that was long forgotten today.

then one of his favorite acts of service - washing your hair. fingers working the product into your scalp and carefully rinsing it out. there’s something about the way you just look so content and at peace that does it for him. you always return the favor and find satisfaction in knowing you got him to stop using that god awful ten-in-one product and into real shampoo and conditioner.

he’ll rebraid your hair before bed if you want him to and he’s been getting better at it. you wonder if you’ll have daughters one day. they won’t know how lucky they are to have a dad actually capable of taking care of their hair but you know carmen will do it with a smile. always taking care of his girls.

you share the idea with him and there’s a dreamy smile being thrown your way in the mirror as you look at the reflection of you two together. his hands slide around middle and now he’s dragging you back to bed to get started making that dream a reality.

[glutengoblin]

Guilty As Sin, Sebastian Sallow X Reader (Part 1)

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts for waaaaay too long. Originally, I planned to make it just one complete part before posting. Given its length, I decided to split it up.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the love on my other pieces of writing, it means the world to me!

(She/her pronouns, house neutral)

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Some 18+ Content

Disclaimer: I am not Taylor Swift and therefore do not own the rights to "Guilty As Sin"

Though the Hogwarts library was typically where MC liked to study most, today she couldn’t capture her focus. At some point when she was working through the stack of parchments she needed to complete by the following Monday, the words had begun to blur indistinguishably together.

Studying alone was a complete drag. Placing her head on the desk, she resigned to taking a short break, in the hope that it might allow her to regain her focus.

She felt as if she had begun to blur into the background noise of the library herself. The gentle chatter of students working together, the occasional shush from Scribner, and the tap of quill pens against the desks nearby only served as a reminder of how quiet her life had been since it had all happened.

The events of her 5th year had hit her like a freight train; she felt as if that was the only appropriate way to describe it at that point. Learning that she had magical abilities (let alone ancient magical abilities), the nearly insurmountable weight of having to protect the wizarding world on her shoulders, and the eventual loss of her mentor was more trauma than any 15-year-old should have to endure. She knew that now. Yet, somehow, one of the worst parts of that trauma was trying to work through what was left of her shattered friendships.

Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit had stuck around thankfully- she wasn’t entirely alone, and that much she was thankful for. Their crew managed to keep her mostly entertained, as there was a never-ending supply of mischief that they managed to get her into. Poppy always managed to find a way to add a new best to the vivarium. Figuring out their care was a constant challenge, and MC was thankful Deek was so willing to help in the endeavor. Natty, on the other hand, constantly dragged MC into the Forbidden Forest, hell-bent on ridding the Earth of the few Ashwinders that still meandered about the land. Garreth was… Garreth. That alone was enough to keep her on her toes.

Ominis and Sebastian… That was another story. Since the events occurred in the catacombs, Ominis and her had spoken occasionally in the undercroft, mainly trying to parse through what was left of Ominis’s shattered emotions, due to the betrayal he felt his best friend had committed. It was an effort to convince Ominis that they shouldn’t send Sebastian to Azkaban the moment he killed his uncle. He felt as if Sebastian had now sealed his fate towards turning into a dark wizard. However, once he calmed down a bit, Ominis seemed to conceptualize Sebastian’s decision as an act of self-defense; still, Ominis felt like their friendship was forever fractured beyond repair, and the boys hadn’t spoken since.

At first, MC had done her best to avoid being around, or even thinking about Sebastian. They had grown remarkably close during their 5th, honestly to the point where MC had found herself beginning to think of Sebastian as more than a friend. But after her fifth year, she needed time to try and process what he had done for herself. She kept her space, and he seemed to fall into their new rhythm. Gone were the days of playfully shoving each other as they walked the Hogsmeade streets, mouths full of pumpkin pasties. Instead, their relationship was reduced to glances across classrooms, followed by the occasional smile from Sebastian - but nothing more.

MC’s friends picked up on the obvious changes in behavior from her and Ominis towards Sebastian, and somewhere along the line, they had decided he was person non-grata. While none of them knew what he did, for Ominis and MC to turn their backs on him, they were forced to assume the worst. Thus, even if MC ever did want to try and close the gap, she felt like couldn’t. Part of the reason she adored her friends was because they had grown so protective of her since her fifth year- but she also resented it, feeling as if golden handcuffs now controlled her every move in regards to Sebastian.

The world blurred back into focus as Poppy plopped down beside her, looking over the papers strewn across the table. Poppy picked one up, examined it, and frowned.

“Seems like you’re a bit overwhelmed at the moment.” Poppy offered a small smile, receiving a laugh from MC in return.

“You could say that. I just need to get all of this done by Monday. And quite frankly, it's a lot.”

Poppy let out a soft melodic laugh. “I hate to break it to you, Y/N, but unfortunately that will be our future for the next year.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, and flipped a page, examining its contents as she tried to pull the information from her mind. At this point, it was simply beyond her. Thankfully, she generally started her work early, and since it was only Thursday she decided it might be best to take a break. She began shuffling the papers into neater stacks, looking over at Poppy.

“I'm honestly not sure I can focus for much longer. How do you feel about a break? Perhaps a walk to Hogsmeade might be in order?” Poppy flashed a smile and began helping her friend pack up her papers.

“That sounds wonderful.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Although it was only September, there was slight a crispness about the air that spoke of fall in Scotland. Y/N savored her breaths, and the feeling of sunlight dancing on her skin, knowing that soon the area would be reduced to days full of rain. Though she adored the chillier fall days, colored by falling leaves and perfect for drinking tea, she was thankful she got outside while she could.

Poppy trotted alongside her, excitement evidently growing as they reached the Hogsmeade gates. The town was pretty rowdy for a Thursday, but that was likely due to the fact that it was the first-week students were back in Hogwarts. Most of them were likely retrieving supplies that they had forgotten to purchase before returning to school.

Y/N sighed, her thoughts wistfully returning to two years ago, almost to the exact day when Sebastian had been guiding her on that exact quest. While the troll attack had certainly put a damper on things, Y/N had greatly appreciated the time she got to spend with Sebastian. She knew from that point onwards that they would be great friends, or even something more. **She bit her lip at that additional thought, unsure of exactly where it had come from.

Truth be told, that was a lie. She had been eyeing Sebastian at the Great Feast earlier that week, and in their first few classes together. The transition to the seventh year had done something to him. Although she had always considered him attractive, he had grown taller and filled out a bit. While not overly muscular, the new changes certainly made him look older, something she found her thoughts wandering too over the past couple of days.

Y/N snapped out of her state of quiet contemplation when the pair reached Honeyduke’s. They were on the hunt for some treats to add to their stashes. Poppy made a beeline to the jelly beans, while Y/N took some time to peruse the chocolate frogs. Garreth had told her a rumor that apparently there was a way to determine which card each container held. The print supposedly differed slightly on each container, so Y/N leaned in to study the stack, trying to look for any hint of this supposed difference.

Eventually, she stood straight again to passivated the tinge of pain that played at her spine for bending over too long. To her surprise, she looked over the stack to find herself staring into a pair of familiar brown eyes.

“S-Sebastian?” Y/N choked out, caught a bit off guard by their sudden proximity. Although the stack of treats still separated them, this was closer than they had been in over a year. It was then that Y/N realized how tall he had grown - the difference was a bit startling now.

Sebastian stayed quiet for a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully.

“Y/N- I was hoping we’d run into each other at some point this year. I-I… I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” A look of shock crossed her face, before settling into an uncontrolled smile. Maybe this was the way to bridge the gap after this year.

“Alright… About what exactly?” Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but an instant later, Y/N felt an arm being looped through her’s. She looked over to see Poppy, who looked to be a mix of both uncomfortable and pissed. Poppy’s eyes traveled up and down Sebastian, obviously sizing him up.

“How do you do Sallow?” She asked, her voice dripping with more disdain than Y/N had expected to ever hear out of Poppy. Sebastian’s smile flattered for a moment, a glimpse of a frown crossing his lips before he gained control of his emotions again.

“I’m good Sweeting. It’s good to see you after so long.” Poppy offered a disingenuous smile, before turning to Y/N.

“Y/N, we must be going. I heard a rumor that there’s a sale on pet feed at The Brood and Peck. We must go before they run out. Bye Sebastian!”

With that, Poppy practically dragged her friend out on the street, spinning around to face her.

“What was he thinking! Suddenly speaking to you like that- after a whole year! The audacity.” She shook her head, as Y/N studied the ground, trying to decide on the best method to proceed with this conversation.

“It’s alright Poppy. Honestly, it was nice to see him again after so long.” Poppy frowned at that, clearly a bit distraught at that comment coming from Y/N.

“Look, I don’t know why you and Ominis stopped speaking to him, but it must have been bad to cause that big of a rift in your friendship. If it truly hurt you that much… I would just be careful around him. You really don’t need any more emotional turmoil in your life.”

Y/N sighed softly, running a hand through her hair as she thought about Poppy’s point. She had to admit, in a sense she was right.

“I’ll take your comments under advisory Poppy. Now, was there truly a sale at Brood and Peck?” Poppy instantly brightened up at the question, the frown melting from her face.

“Oh yes! You think I could lie about something like that? So, we must head over- we definitely need more fed for the vivarium before they run out.”

With that, the girls departed the front of Honeyduke’s. Y/N glanced back once they had taken a few steps, and swore that she could see Sebastian in the window, looking at them. But, she turned around to follow Poppy, figuring that the mystery of what Sebastian wanted to discuss would best be left to later.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A day later, Y/N was sitting in her dorm, polishing off the last of the stack of homework she had been working on the previous day. Although it felt lame to be doing work on a Friday night, rather than being out with her friends, Y/N enjoyed it. Getting all of her homework done now meant that she could enjoy the rest of her weekend.

Just as she was dotting her last Is and crossing her Ts, an owl flew in through her open window and dropped a letter in front of her. Y/N was a bit surprised, as typically she received mail in the mornings at breakfast. Needless to say, receiving a letter at this time of night was a bit strange.

Y/N opened the envelope, as the owl sat perched on her coat rack. To her surprise, she instantly recognized the handwriting, even a year later. It was Sebastian's.

“Dear Y/N,

I'm writing to you because we were unable to finish our conversation yesterday at Honeydukes.

I've been wanting to speak with you about what has transpired since 5th year, and mainly, I wanted to apologize for my behavior.

Y/N, I am deeply sorry for the way I pulled you into my schemes that year. It was unfair to you, and I shouldn't have taken advantage of your friendship like that. You're a true friend, and I had very few of those. So, I want you to know that I greatly appreciate everything you did for me.

Secondly, I'm assuming that part of the reason why you haven't spoken to me is because of what occurred in the catacombs. All I wanted to say was thank you. Over the past year, without you, Anne, and Ominis in my life, I've realized the error of my ways. That the path was dragging me further down, away from my family and friends - the people who matter most to me. I'm sorry.

I also feel horrible for not being there for you after Professor Fig's death. I know he was a great mentor to you, like a parent, and that it must have hurt very much. I feel horrible for not being able to support you through that time.

I'm hoping you can find it in your heart to forgive me. If that's not possible, I completely understand. If so, I wish you all the best in life. You deserve it.

Sincerely,

Sebastian Sallow”

Y/N sat there, a bit shell-shocked at what she had just read. There was no bit of that Sebastian snark in the letter. He seemed to be genuinely sorry, and trying his best to bridge the gap that formed between them.

Her heart fluttered a bit in her chest as she retrieved a fresh envelope and piece of parchment from her slightly broken desk drawer, and began to hastily write.

“Dear Sebastian,

While I admit it was difficult to come to terms with what happened 5th year, I feel as if I finally can.

Your apology is much appreciated, but I should also apologize to for abandoning you in what must have been one of your darkest times. That is not the actions of a true friend, and I am deeply sorry.

While I certainly think that things are more complicated now, I believe I'm ready to try and be friends again.

Best,

Y/N”

She quickly sealed the envelope with a press of wax, then gave it to the owl along with a stray carrot she kept around for her own. She felt bad that she had kept the owl waiting for so long, but as it flew off into the darkening sky, she knew she had made the right choice. Keeping Sebastian waiting for a reply till the next day seemed unnecessarily cruel.

Given her work for the day was finished, she decided that she might as well get ready for bed. Ominis had asked for her assistance with something tomorrow, and though she was unsure of the task entailed, she wanted to be well rested.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning, Ominis approached her, as she sat on a bench reading a book. Although it was already after breakfast and she had gone to bed at a decent hour, Y/N hadn't gotten good rest. Truth be told, she was up most of the night, twisting and turning at the thought of Sebastian's letter.

Being friends again was a thought that excited her. She had missed his snarky comments and excitement about activities like crossed wands. But, rebuilding their friendship would also be difficult. Not only did they have to work through their own messes of emotion that were left with the trauma, but also Y/N had to mind her other friends. Based on Poppy's reaction the other day, she figured it might be best to keep the information that she and Sebastian had reconnected to herself.

Y/N was startled from her train of thought when Ominis approached her, and cleared his throat.

“Good morning, Y/N. I appreciate you meeting me here today.”

Smiling up at Ominis, she shut her book and stood.

“Of course. May I ask what it is you want help with?”

Ominis nodded, and then began working towards what Y/N knew to be the entrance to the undercroft. “I was hoping we could finally get the place neatened up a bit. I feel as if we’ve basically abandoned it since the events of 5th year- occurred. One day, some new Hogwarts students may happen upon it, and I want to ensure that we’re setting our best possible foot forward. Is anyone around?” He asked, as they approached the entrance. Y/N glanced around, determining that the coast was clear, and they descended into the opening.

The undercroft had developed a solid layer of dust since they had last visited. Crates were still stacked haphazardly across the floor. The place had once been such a comfort to Y/N, so welcoming. She, Ominis, and Sebastian used to spend hours of their time there, studying, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company. Now, it was reduced to simply a storage place.

Y/N glanced over at the triptych, only for a second, as the memories from their escapades 5th year came flooding back. Though she didn’t miss that period of her life, she realized then that she did truly miss how close she and Sebastian had been.

Shaking herself loose, she inquired what Ominis wanted to start cleaning first. Walking forward, she began to rid the space of the crates, replacing them instead with a new set of training dummies. The candles were soon replaced too, with newly conjured unused ones. The two continued working, determined to make the space they once held so dear comfortable again.

Soon enough, the undercroft was sufficiently cleaned to their liking. Y/N had even conjured a few new pieces of furniture, which were scattered around the place. A new couch, with a coffee table and matching chairs, were perhaps the best additions. Y/N and Ominis were certainly thankful for it as they took a break, admiring their work.

“I think it looks great.” Y/N smiled, patting her friend on his hand.

“So do I.” A smile crossed Ominis’s features as Y/N let out a chuckle at his joke.

“I’m sure it does.” She paused for a few seconds, considering her next words carefully. “It doesn’t quite feel right without Sebastian though… Does it?” That earned a curious look from Ominis, who thought for a moment before shaking his head.

“I still have yet to speak to him since everything happened… But I suppose you’re right. It does feel strange to be in here and not hear his quite annoying voice bouncing off the walls.”

Y/N sighed, slightly regretting bringing up the topic, as she knew how heartbroken Ominis had been at Sebastian’s indiscretions. Still, she felt as if they had to discuss it at some point. “Ominis…Have you spoken to Sebastian since it all happened?”

Ominis let out a sigh, his face now turned away from her as he seemed to search his brain for the correct words. “He actually sent me a letter.”

Shock spread over Y/N’s face, as she turned to grab his hand, urging him to continue. “He did…?”

“I- Yes. A couple of days ago. He sent me an owl. Said that he deeply regretted all the pain he had put me through- said he wished that he had been a better friend to me, and listened to my concerns. If I’m being honest… I still haven’t responded. I’m not really sure how to. Part of me wants to forgive him. He was my best friend- but I’m not sure I should… Not after everything.” Y/N could see tears play at the corners of his eyes, as Ominis seemed to contemplate his statements.

“I… that must be difficult. I’m sorry Ominis.” She bit her lip, silently cursing herself for what she was about to say. “Please let me know what you decide to do, I’ll support you either way.”

In some ways, Y/N already knew that was a lie. When it came to Sebastian, she could never find it in herself to be logical. And now, especially since he had apologized to her so sincerely, she could already feel herself slipping back into the grasp of her emotions for him. Truly, she didn’t know what would happen now that Sebastian had sent them both letters… But she hoped for the best.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Later, Y/N returned to her dorm room to find another letter bearing the same crest as yesterday, perched on her desk. She sat down, retrieving her letter opener, hands shaking slightly at the fear of the contents.

“Dear Y/N,

I appreciate your forgiveness more than you could ever imagine, and your apologies, although they are unwarranted.

I’m not quite sure how to approach this “becoming friends again” thing, since I’ve never done it before. So, I suppose I should just start with simple questions: How are classes going for you this semester? Do you still love pumpkin pasties? Are you still afraid of spiders, even fighting off so many of them?

I look forward to your response.

Best,

Sebastian :) “

Y/N smiled to herself at the awkwardness that radiated from his writing. It seemed as if the ever-confident Sebastian Sallow had finally met the match of his charm.

As she sat thinking of a response, her quill twisting in her hand, she considered just how she should approach it if Sebastian asked to meet in person. Ominis still had his own decisions to make regarding forgiving him. Her friends still seemed to feel questionable about him. All factors combined, she felt that it was definitely the right decision to keep the knowledge of their correspondence to herself for a bit until she could figure out how to better approach the situation. She was glad she didn’t admit anything to Ominis.

With that thought through logically, she began working on her letter, eager to send it out before nightfall- Hopefully, that would mean yet another reply from Sebastian that night.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

“Y/N. Thanks for meeting me here- you don’t know how much it means to me.” Sebastian took a step forward in the dim light of the undercroft, reaching out to gently brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t know how much I’ve been hoping that someday you could forgive me. I know I’m horrible, and I’m the last person that deserves your time… But I… I want you to know that I love you.”

The next thing she felt was the press of his lips against her’s. As if on instinct, her arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him down to her height and further into the kiss. Sebastian stalled for a second as she increased the intensity, before eventually catching up by wrapping his arms around her waist, clinging to her as if she was his last shot of life.

Eventually, the kiss broke, and Sebastian studied her eyes. “Y/N… as much as I love you, you need to wake up now.”

Y/N stared at him blankly, her mouth slightly agape. “Sebastian… What do you mean-?”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Next thing Y/N knew, she was sitting stick straight up in her bed, her breath coming in in panic gulps. She surveyed her surroundings, still reeling from the dream that felt more realistic than any dream she had experienced to date. After a few more breaths, she was able to compose herself- that is until she realized that there was more sunlight than usual streaming through her blinds and until she saw the time on her clock.

With ten minutes to make it to potions before she was late, Y/N was sure that she had never managed to get ready so quickly.

When she finally plopped down next to Poppy in her normal seat, the Hufflepuff looked extremely worried. While Y/N could look disheveled from time to time (often a symptom of her many adventures in the highlands), this was a worse state than Poppy had ever seen her in.

Glancing at Sharp first to ensure he was too busy lecturing to notice, Poppy nudged her friend gently, her brown eyes pooled with concern. With a hushed tone, she whispered, “Y/N- Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Y/N looked startled by Poppy speaking to her, but managed to get her bearings back quickly. “I’m fine Poppy- I just had an interesting dream is all. Now let's hush before Sharp yells at us… again.” Poppy nodded in response, but her face was still painted with worry.

But, she relented and tried her best to focus on the complex lesson of yet another potion that she would never have any application for.

Though the lesson lasted for another hour, ‘an hour too long’ Poppy thought, she didn’t forget about her strange interaction with her friend. Not wanting to push her for more information, since that never really seemed to work with Y/N, Poppy decided to discuss the matter with Natty instead.

As students were finally filtering out of the classroom, Poppy made sure to catch up with Natty, gently pulling on her robes to get her attention. “Natty… would you mind having a quick conversation with me? It’s about Y/N… I’m worried.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Despite the fact that Poppy’s behavior made Y/N feel like she was onto her, Y/N decided to spend the rest of her day as normally as possible. As normally as possible, that is, with thoughts of Sebastian crowding her mind.

She was in a daze throughout all of lunch, barely noticing when Garreth had managed to concoct something that turned a 1st year’s head blue. She could hardly focus through the rest of her classes that day. Even crossed wands couldn’t get her to feign her attention. She barely even reacted when Leander Prewett was shot across the room, which on any other day would have been the highlight of her day.

Instead, she waited for the hours to pass, since the thoughts didn’t seem to. His lips, his hands, his smile, his messy brown hair - each minute detail that made him up. She begged for time to speed up, hoping that the sweet relief of sleep might free her from her mental prison.

By the time she finally made it back to her dorm, she hardly even wanted to open the letter that Sebastian had sent that evening. But, given it was now a cherished part of her routine, she felt as if she should.

There was nothing substantial in it, especially compared to where her thoughts of him had been leading. Instead, it was simply a continuation of the conversation they had been having the previous evening- a drabble about the Holyhead Harpies, and various other quidditch teams. One’s they had both followed during their fifth year. Discussions of quidditch had been a sweet relief during the torment of those long months. Despite not having ever played the game herself, Y/N felt connected to it- truth be told Sebastian’s enthusiasm for the sport probably had something to do with her sudden interest during fifth year.

Y/N wrote a quick reply, figuring he was owed at least that, before resigning herself to going to bed. She readied herself for sleep hurriedly, craving the sweet release of a free mind.

Only it wouldn’t come. Instead, her mind was riddled with even more intense thoughts of him. Of his hands on her, touching her places that no one had before. His hands running down her form, savoring her curves. A thumb, gently caressing her cheek. And, perhaps worst of all, his fingers tracing letters on her thigh. With a shiver going down her spine, she realized he was spelling out “mine”.

Eventually, Y/N woke at 3 am, her mind likely deciding that it couldn’t bear any more of the torment her mind had to offer. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, it seemed pointless to try to sleep again. Trying to set herself to something productive, she realized that she did need a few potion ingredients - specifically ones that were harder to procure. Specifically, ones that required a trip to one of the places Hogwarts students were not allowed to go: the Forbidden Forest.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, “might as well go while I’m least likely to be caught.” Once she had made her decision, she set to prepare herself. A thick coat, scarf, and socks per usual, and a couple of extra wiggenwelds for good measure.

Thankfully the common room was deserted as she decided to take the floo flame, opting to land near the entrance to the forbidden forest.

Perhaps youthful ignorance was why she never felt scared of the area - after all, it was significantly more dangerous than staying in the castle. But Y/N was always confident in her ability to defend herself. Never once had she wanted to be considered a fragile flower. Thus, even though the area was eerily quiet, enough so to give her momentary pause, she decided to continue.

She had begun her way through the forest, quickly picking out a couple of the ingredients she needed for her stock. For some reason, she always found foraging calming. Perhaps it was because it was an activity that always seemed to take her thoughts off the tumultuous events during 5th year.

She leaned down, collected some mushrooms with a few swipes of her pocket knife and placed them into her pouch. Yes, of course, she could have used her wand, but sometimes she felt the use of muggle tools was more therapeutic. It made her feel more connected to the plants that she was oh-so-carefully collecting.

She made her way deeper and deeper into the forest until she began to have the off-putting feeling that something or someone was following her. At this point, the heavy tree cover had completely blotted out the lights from Hogwarts. She cast her gaze around and when she failed to detect anyone she continued her trek until she stumbled upon a poacher camp.

Quickly disillusioning herself, she fel into a crouch behind a tree, studying the scene before her. There only looked to be 2 or 3 poachers at the camp, with a puffskin gently whining in a cage off to the left side. Y/N winced when a poacher approached it and kicked it.

“Oi, quit your yapping.” He yelled at the poor beast, who trembled under the gaze of his captor. Y/N decided then that they would be an easy target.

She moved a bit closer, before revealing herself. The first two barely stood a chance against her, as she quickly transfigured one into a barrel and sent him flying towards the other. The third one wasn’t so easy it turned out.

Out of nowhere, five more figures appeared. A couple more poachers… And a couple of Ashwinders. Y/N ducked, letting out a yelp as she barely avoided being sliced in half by a diffindo thrown her way.

Though Y/N had faced much worse than this (she had taken down Ranrok, after all), she knew this battle was going to be difficult. Her lack of sleep and stress over the double life she was once again living were eating at her in strange ways. She felt herself growing weaker, trying her best to conjure up her ancient magic. To her dismay, the power didn’t want to respond. She tried her best, managing to take down the other poachers with a clever combo. But when an incarerous managed to hit her, she went tumbling to the ground, hitting her head hard.

The last thing she saw before everything went black was a flash of messy brown hair, green robes, and warm brown eyes that could only belong to one person.

Sebastian.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

[wwbtsdty]

What Makes You Sweat | 18+

Summary: You’re really getting tired of how much time your boyfriend spends in the gym when you have so little time together on his days off. So one day you decide to join him to see what really makes him sweat.

Rating: 18+

Genre: idol!au, smut, fluff

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Status: Oneshot

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Explicit language, dom!jungkook, sub!reader, smutty smut, sexual tension, big dick!jungkook, unprotected sex(wrap it before ya tap it!), oral sex, cocky!jungkook, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, praising, dirty talk, creampie, rough sex, spanking, bondage, squirting, begging, cursing, fingering, biting, did I miss anything haha.

Author’s Note: This has been sitting in my drafts forever, mainly because I was so upset I lost all my edits to it one day. Sooo I’m just gonna release it, with the premise that its extremely rough because I can’t find it in my heart to edit it again. So here it is, take it for what it is.. a quickie, dirty, unedited short story haha.

This is all fictional. 

You sigh deeply staring up at the ceiling in boredom, you had tired of playing games on your phone or scrolling social media an hour ago. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, 10:44 PM... he’d been gone for two hours. Just what the hell does he down there for so long?

Surely most people didn’t work out this long every single day, it seemed excessive and it was starting to get on your nerves. You know he promised to keep his washboard abs for ARMY, but surely he didn’t need to work out every damn day to maintain those bad boys.

Grabbing your phone again you sent off a quick text to him.

Did you fall off the treadmill? Are you seriously still working out?

You and Jungkook had been dating for over a year now what he did for so many hours every day in that gym was still a mystery. You had never been tempted to join him before, when he was finished with you for the night you could barely move, let alone go workout. Meanwhile he was the energizer bunny, ready to go again and again until you finally caved and told him to go work off some steam.

The past few days though you’d had to work late because of your bosses stupid mistake. So you weren’t able to get home in time to soothe the bunny, he was always off at the gym so you would pass out on the bed.

Tonight though you’d had to listen to one of your coworkers gossiping about their sex life with their new younger boyfriend. Which of course in turn, got you thinking about how much you happened to miss your boyfriends delicious body, anxiously waiting all day to get home to him.

So here you sat, waiting on his bed, Bam having had long since given up on waiting for his dad and crawling into his crate to go to sleep. Your phone chimed suddenly causing you to practically lunge for it.

I’m just getting started babe, don’t wait up. 😘

Just getting started? What the hell does that mean? What exactly has he been doing for that last two hours?

You groaned, rolling onto your stomach in frustration as you stared at the text on your phone.

Don’t wait up he says! I hardly get to see him anymore, not with working full time and him getting ready for his next comeback, it seemed like their time together was becoming less and less these days—yet all he wants to do is spend time in the gym!

Jumping off the bed you squared your shoulders as you raided the closet for a pair of leggings and a sports bra.

Fine, if he wanted to work out then you were going to join him, sure it was the last thing you felt like doing, but if it meant you could spend time together then so be it!

Jungkook had just finished up running for his cardio workout the last hour, pulling up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat that had accumulated on his face.

Now that cardio was done he could start on weights, he needed to work his lower body today since he did upper body yesterday. Then of course abs as always to finish off the workout.

Taking a swig from his water bottle, his attention diverted as the door swung open, you walked in wearing what he guessed could pass as workout clothes.

But really there wasn’t much there, he sure hoped you didn’t wear that shit in public to workout or else there was going to be a conversation later.

“Hey, what's up? I told you not to wait up, i’ll probably be a while still.” He eyed you suspiciously, you had never come to workout with him. Not that it ever bothered him, it was more of his thing and that was totally fine by him.

“Well... you spend so much time here, I thought I would see what you get up to for once. Maybe you could give me some pointers as well, I should probably workout more anyway. I’ve been stuck at a desk all week.”

You shrugged trying to act nonchalant, but your eyes gave you away as you took in his appearance. It wasn’t fair how beautiful this man was, even coated in sweat--no, not even, of course coated in sweat this man was absolutely sinful. All you could think about was stripping that shirt off his delicious body and raking your nails down his chest.

You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together for some sort of relief. You weren’t sure just how long you stood there ogling your boyfriend, but it was obviously enough for him to take notice.

“Hmm... you want to work out?” He sauntered up to you, eyes darkening as he crowded you against the wall, hands coming up to rest on either side of your head behind you.

Your held your breathe as you took in the sudden change in his demeanor. This was the man you had come to know all too well every night, the one that bent your body to his will.

“I missed you, feels like I haven’t seen you in weeks,” You whispered, tucking a strand of his hair back behind his ear. He smiled brightly, bunny teeth on display as he cupped your cheek leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly.

Stepping back, he booped your nose cutely with his finger. “I always miss you.” Sighing sadly, “When this comeback is done I promise we will take a vacation, just the two of us. We can spend every waking moment with each other. We don’t even have to leave the bed.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

God, You loved this man so much. How you had gotten so lucky to land Bangtan’s golden boy, he was anything and everything you could ask for in a boyfriend.

“I was about to start some weights, you wanna start with some cardio?” Just like that your tender moment was gone and Muscle bunny was back. How did he just flip a switch just like that, was it part of being an idol or something?

Huffing loudly, you made your way over to the treadmill he had just vacated, turning it on the lowest setting. You walked as slowly as possible, staring aimlessly at the little television blasting some random entertainment show before you. Behind you sounds of grunting and heavy weights clinking filled your ears as he began his workout again.

It was about 16 minutes later, according to the treadmill, when you had finally reached your breaking point. His grunts and groans were driving you crazy, you could hardly walk for fear the slick coating your core would drip down your legs.

Stopping the treadmill you spun around to find him doing sit-ups on the floor, each time he sat up he gave a soft grunt. You bit your lip as an evil plan hatched in your head.

Two could play this game.

You sashayed over to the rowing machine, plopping down loudly on the seat as you fastened your legs in. Wrapping your fingers around the handle to pull back fiercely, you let out a whisper of a moan. You saw his head swivel around towards you at the noise.

Ha, take some of your own medicine Kookie!

You smirked, continuing to pull on the rowing machine. Arching your back with each tug so your breasts thrust into the air alluringly.

His gaze zeroed in on the way your breasts proudly displayed as you rowed, suddenly his grey sweats felt all too tight. He knew you were purposely trying to rile him up, and it was working. But his competitive nature would never let him give him.

Plus, he was actually enjoying having you here with him for once, and he had to admit seeing you working out made him proud.

Not like you needed to work out, eyeing that perfect ass he loved so much. Having you ride him reverse cowgirl was one of his favorite positions, he loved watching that ass bounce up and down on his dick.

Reaching down to adjust his hardening length, he pulled his gaze from your body to refocus himself. At this rate he was going to lose this game you had decided to play and turn this into a whole other kind of workout.

You had quietly crept over his way once he went back to finishing his sit-up, the slight sway of your hips driving him to distraction once more. He stopped, arms behind his head as he laid back looking up at you suspiciously, “You done already?” He questioned, regarding you as a smirk lifted his lips.

You weren’t going to give in that easily, sure you’d been annoyed he hadn’t come over at your show earlier while rowing. You couldn’t miss him adjusting himself and the tent in his pants though. You were getting to him too. It was time to change tactics.

Throwing your leg over his waist you straddled his stomach, hands splayed out across his chest as you nestled your core above his hardening length. Your fingers sliding slowly down his chest to push yourself back to lay against his knees causing your breasts to jut out towards his face tauntingly. “Nope. Just taking a break…”

His brow raised quizzically, thrusting his hips off the floor bouncing you in the process to signal you should move. “Alright princess, well I just finished sit-ups… so how about you give me some motivation to finish my pushups?”

His hands encircled your waist when you didn't move, hoisting you up into the air like you weighed nothing. He let your body slide painfully slow down his until your feet touched the floor, “Lay down.” His voice held a hint of command forcing you to lay down where he indicated unbidden. You watched as he knelt down at your feet, hands moving to either side of your head, his body hovering above yours.

“Now be a good girl and stay still.”

You bit your lip at his deep voice, his face coming closer before moving past yours, his breathe tickling your ear.

“One.”

His whispered breathe across your ear sent a shot of arousal straight to your core, nipples suddenly standing for attention as he pulled back up.

Just as quickly he was pressing back down, this time you were more composed, your head swiveled around to nip at his earlobe.

“Two…” He groaned, pulling back with narrowed eyes.

The third time he decided to press his body flush against yours, hips rolling into your core for you to feel his now fully hard length.

You moaned loudly, frantically thrusting your hips up as he pushed up just as quickly. You glared up at that cocky bunny smile plastered on his face.

“Three.”

You'd had enough of this game.

You grabbed that taunt ass with both hands as he came down for the fourth push-up, rolling your hips seductively against his.

He growled, letting his body collapse atop yours in response. “Naughty girl. I told you to stay still, you can’t even obey one command? Am I going to have to tie you up so you don’t move?” His voice was pure sin in your ear, hands sliding slowly up your arms causing goosebumps in their wake, bringing them up above your head where he captured your wrists in one hand.

“So, we're done playing already? Just when the game was getting interesting...”

His right hand moved quickly down your stomach to cup your heat without warning. Your eyes flew open in surprise, arching your back sharply as you let out a groan of satisfaction at finally being touched, tugging desperately at his grip on your wrists to break free.

A soft moan escaped his lips, “So wet for me already? Does this pussy want to be filled so badly by my cock?” He trailed wet kisses down your neck, he bite the spot where your neck meets your shoulders quickly laving the tender spot with his tongue.

He sat back on his heels, admiring the way your breasts looked barely confined by your sports bra as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Taking your breasts in each hand to squeeze them together, dipping down to taking one of your nipples and then the other into his mouth through your sports bra, tongue circling it teasingly before biting playfully.

“Jungkook!” you gasped, hips thrusting against his hand in reflex, chasing some kind of friction. You could feel just how embarrassingly slick your panties and leggings had become at this point, providing barely any barrier.

Jungkook smirked, pressing the palm of his hand down hard against your clit through your leggings. "Is this what you wanted baby?"

Nodding frantically, "Yes! Yes! Please!!" You should be embarrassed at the way your hips followed his hand as he pulled back, but you were already past caring.

He released your wrists, sitting back on his heels as you whined at the lack of contact. Palming at his hardened bulge as he motioned to the bench behind you. "Go sit that pretty ass down on that bench."

Jumping up to obey, your body trembled in anticipation as you spread your legs displaying the large wet patch that has formed in the crotch of your leggings.

He quickly shed his shirt as he approached you, dropping to his knees between your thighs.

Your mouth watered as you admired that amazing body, eyes catching a drop of sweat dripping down his chest that you suddenly wanted to catch with your tongue. And those damn grey sweatpants, always showing just enough to drive you crazy. His hard dick filled them out so well now, you could practically feel it inside you already.

He made quick work of your leggings, peeling them down your legs. God you were practically soaking that bench already and he’d barely touched you.Grabbing your thighs to tug you down to the edge of the bench roughly. He admired your beautiful pussy for a minute, the material of your panties sticking to your lips making them practically transparent.

He slid his fingertip down your slit, pressing just the tip inside your pussy the material of your panties creating resistance from going in any further.

"All of this just for me? How long has my poor baby been suffering? If you’d just said you wanted to be fucked we could have ended this game quickly. But now I feel like making you wait… I won after all.” A smirk quirked his lips, leaning down to suck your clit into his mouth over the fabric.

“Fuck Jungkook!!” You squealed at the feeling of his mouth, the material of your underwear aiding the sensation. You slid your hand into Jungkook's hair, the other gripped onto the bench beneath you as you rolled your hips against his mouth.

Without removing his mouth from your clit, he grabbed your flimsy underwear tearing it off your body and flinging the offending material away. His mouth moving over your now bare pussy, tongue delving into your folds greedily.

You sobbed in relief, squeezing your thighs together at the sudden onslaught of pleasure that was almost unbearable.

Jungkooks digs his fingers into your thighs, keeping them open for his onslaught. "Ah Ah, don't hide from me." He quips smartly, sending a sharp smack to your pussy that causes you to jump, a whine escaping you at the stinging sensation as more arousal seeps from your lips.

He begins lapping at your clit teasingly, his fingers massaging your thighs as he enjoyed the whines escaping your lips.

“Kook, stop teasing!”

He takes your clit into his mouth once more, sucking strongly. At the same time slowly inserting one finger, curling it as he begins thrusting in and out of your sloppy cunt, rubbing that sweet spot each time.

You could already feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach and he’s barely touched you. Turned on beyond belief from their game earlier and not seeing him the past few days, or more specifically not seeing his cock.

"Tell me this isn't what you came down here for?" He remarks, pulling his digit from your pussy and bringing it up to his lips to taste you.

You screamed in frustration at the sudden emptiness, leaning up on your elbows as you regarded him between your legs not moving.

"Jungkook!" He just laughed at your situation, removing his finger with a pop from his lips, his tongue prodding his cheek. He reached down palming at his dick which had become so painfully hard. Your gaze followed his hand, jerking his length over his pants a few times in relief. He couldn’t wait to finally feel you wrapped so tightly around his cock, it had been so long, he was tired of using his own hand for relief. It was a poor excuse for that tight pussy he had come to love.

"Fine, okay! I came down to get fucked okay? I couldn't wait for you any longer… Jungkook! Please just fuck me already you idiot! I need to feel you!" you sobbed, throwing your arm over your eyes in embarrassment at your confession. Even after so many years you could feel embarrassment at how badly you wanted him at times.

He smiles all teeth at your confession, "Good girl, that wasn't so hard now was it? Did you really think I thought you wanted to work out? Unless you were referring to this workout." He motioned to himself with a cocky smirk, tongue running along his lower lip.

Before you could make a smart ass remark he plunged two fingers inside your pussy, thrusting them quickly in and out of you.

Shoving your sports bra up to reveal those beautiful pert nipples. Taking one into his mouth, his tongue lavishing attention on it as he scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him.

"So fucking tight. How are you still so fucking tight!" He grunted, slipping a third finger inside of you.

You winced at the slight burn, your body already having forgotten the shape of his dick. As the burn ebbed, a delicious pleasure spreading in its place as your thighs quaked from the sudden orgasm approaching. Your hips thrusting in tandem with his fingers, chasing your high.

"Yes, Yes! Jungkook harder!!" You tugged at his dark locks, forcing his mouth harder against your breast.

He rubbed at your clit with his thumb, curling his fingers to continually hit your spot as he increased his speed. His fingers moving so fast you could barely keep up.

Suddenly you felt that cord snap inside of you, your back arching off the bench as you screamed out from your orgasm. A rush of liquid flooded Jungkook's fingers, spraying his chest as he dove down to taste your release. Tongue fucking your gaping hole as it quivered around his mouth, you tasted so fucking sweet he couldn't get enough of it.He pulled his fingers out to rub your clit as his tongue delved deeply inside of you prolonging your release.

"Ah, Jungkook no more.. please..."

He forced your thighs to wide as you tried closing them from the overstimulation, squirming away from his mouth. Your fingers tangled in his dark locks as you tugged at his head trying to stop him.

"I know you can, don't even think about stopping me."

He continued lapping at your sopping pussy, filling you with two fingers again as he sought that spot inside you.

You could feel the overstimulation already turning to pleasure again, moaning loudly as you thrashed on the bench with your fast approaching second release.

Jungkook sucked your clit into his mouth, fucking his fingers harder inside of you until you felt that damn break once more. "JUNGKOOK!!" you screamed his name loudly, black flashing behind your eyes as you squirted all over his face this time, your thighs shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

You lay back panting as he removed his fingers, watching your gaping hole quiver at the emptiness. He licked his lips glancing down at your throughly fucked out face with satisfaction.

"Good girl, I knew you would do it." He sat back on his knees, chest glistening with your release. Standing up, he quickly kicked his sweats and briefs off, his cock springing to attention against his stomach. He wrapped his hand around his painfully hard length, sliding his fingers up and down a few times before his eyes caught on something in the corner.

You were so out of it, currently basking in your post release, you hadn't even noticed him move to the corner of the room. It wasn't until you felt something cold wrapping around your wrists that you startled to attention.

"What..?" you questioned, giving a measuring tug of your wrists to find them tied together with something.

"You were very bad tonight, trying to stop me from enjoying my prize earlier." He gave a sharp tug making sure your wrists were secured with the jump rope.

"So now your going to lay there and let me fuck you however I want." He whispered in your ear before standing up, he lifted your body up from the bench forcing you to now lay on your stomach.He eyed that beautiful ass now on display, delivering a harsh smack to your left cheek enjoying the red marring your skin.

You jumped at the sudden stinging of his hand, a new flush of arousal spreading throughout your body.

He knelt down at the end of the bench, adjusting some knobs. You suddenly found your feet leaving the floor at the same time the rest of your body leaned down closer to the floor. You felt incredibly vulnerable suddenly, ass up in the air, pussy quite literally on display for his viewing pleasure. You couldn't see where he was or what he was doing.

"Fuck, you're so perfect."

He eyed your position, having risen one side of the bench to lift your ass up to the perfect height, while the other was lowered for your comfort so you wouldn't be at a weird angle. He could see just how wet you were from this angle, your pussy dripping on the bench as your hole twitched with anticipation.

He ran his index finger through your slick, "Just for me."

You suddenly felt the head of his dick teasing your core causing you to thrust yourself back against him, you wanted to feel him filling you up so badly. But instead he kept teasing you, tapping his dick against your clit as he pressed a hand down against your lower back to hold you in place delivering a shark smack to your ass.

"Stay still." He growled under his breathe, pushing forward until the thick head of his cock sinks inside you, just as quickly pulling it out.

"Jungkook!" You screeched, wriggling against your confines in frustration, you feel a new wave of wetness seeping from your pussy. "Please, Jungkook, please fuck me! I need your cock.."

His fingers spread out across your ass, massaging at the reddened cheeks. "You look so amazing like this, bared just for me, pussy just waiting to be filled." He pulled your cheeks apart, groping as he watched the way your pussy twitched, admiring the mess you made of the bench already. He strokes his cock once before lining it up with your heat, coating it in your cum before suddenly thrusting forward sinking balls deep inside of you.

"Fuck!" you screamed out, suddenly feeling so full as he sunk so deeply inside you. You swear you could feel him all the way to your stomach. You clenched around him inside you, wanting to keep him inside.

He slowly pulled out until just the tip was left inside you, letting you feel every ridge and vein before harshly thrusting back in as your ass jiggled with the motion.

Suddenly his thrusts sped up, hips plunging into you as the bench jerked beneath you at the strength of his motion. Loud moans left your mouth as your body fought to keep up with his pace. Pleasure wracks your body, fighting against the orgasm already approaching.

He watched your ass bounce against his hips as he took your hips in his hand, forcing your body down to meet his thrusts. Your orgasm hits you as soon as he presses his thumb down on your clit, thighs shaking as your body releases for the third time tonight.

Jungkook continued thrusting through your orgasm, chasing his release as you felt him swell even bigger flooding your insides with his cum. He gave a few more lay thrusts as his cum started leaking out between your bodies soaking the bench below. He slowly pulled out from the warmth of your body, cupping your heat to keep his cum inside.

“Don’t let even a drop escape.” He commanded moving your hand to replace his as he went to slid his boxers and work out shorts back on.

You squeezed your legs together trying in vain to keep his cum from running down your legs as you to went to find your underwear and leggings he had thrown haphazardly. 

He gave your ass a firm smack once you had finished getting dressed, pushing you towards the door.

“Now be a good girl and let me finish my workout.” He flashed you a cocky grin before heading back over to the weights.

Your jaw dropped at his request, “Seriously?!?” 

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