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aemonds-sapphire · 4 years ago

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Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

Masterlist

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x you #dabi imagine #dabi headcanons #todoroki touya #touya #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #dabi scenarios

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checkitoutmikey · 3 years ago

Text

Through the Window

The boys stumble upon an interesting scene

Pairing: Michael x reader, Dwayne x Paul

Warning: SMUT, voyeurism, dumbification? (look Michael is fucked dumb, ok?), no beta we die like hoes

Author’s note: You wanna hear something embarrassing? I’m so deep in the tlb mindset that the whole ‘yeah they are brothers, but they are also a pack/coven and vampires and they are also in poly realitionship’... I didn’t even realise I’m writting actual incest until halfway through the fic. The reader was written as Michael’s actual sister and I didn’t realise it. Kill me. Now. Not that I’m strict anti-incest in fanfiction. You do you boo. It’s just the fact it didn’t register for so long that fucks me up XD

- The boys are hovering in the air right next to Emerson resident. Crowns of the tall trees hiding their figures. They are huddled close together so they can see every little detail through the window of Michael‘s room. They’ve drroped by to just check on Michael, see how he‘s dealing with the transition to the other side but found something much more interesting. There is no way they can leave now.

- They are stunned. Completely speechless. Paul’s jaw pretty much dislodged at some point.

- Michael is laying on his back, hand on your hips. Both of you are breathing heavily. Shivering. You lean down to give him a sweet kiss that makes him whimper.

- Soft „please, please, please“ escape him. He looks desperate.

- You hadn’t taken him inside yet. Just letting hic cock slip through your wet folds. Back and forth, again and again. Nice and gentle.

- To be honest the boys are more stunned by the fact you seem to fucking Michael and not the other way around. You are such a sweet innocent looking thing. Aren’t you supposed to be the good girl? It looks like you have Michael pretty tight by the balls. He doesn’t even attempt to rush you or push you into hurrying. All he can manage is that pathetic pleading and sad puppy eyes.

- „Fuck,“ Paul almost plummets to the ground when he sees Michael’s cock glistening with your slick and precome. Dwayne has to pull him close, back to chest so he won’t actually drop from the air.

- Dwayne puts his large hands around the blondes waist and hurries to open his pants. Why not right? By the smell of lust coming from the others they are in for a night of passion so why not start now. He slowly strokes Paul‘s already rock hard cock.

- „Please, please,“ whimpers Michael, repeating your name like a prayer.

- You brace yourself above him, hands next to either side of his head. „We don’t have a condom,“ you say.

- Paul grabs a pack of condoms from his pocket and is about to go inside and offer it to you so the show can go on. He doesn’t even care there’s a hand around his own cock. Dwayne has to grab him by the collar to keep him back.

- David is aware of his brother’s struggles but couldn’t care less. The alluring smell of lust and sex is surrounding them like a warm blanket, suffocating their senses. He doesn’t care if his coat is hiding the prominent bulge underneath. He shall not be ashamed of his arousal when his brothers are already acting like a bunch of hormonal rabbits.

- Marko’s pulls his jeans just low enough to put his hand inside. His eyes pinned to the two sweat covered bodies.

- Even Dwayne who is clutching Paul in his arms is lost in his need. His hips are rubbing against Paul’s backside while he’s jerking off his friend.

- High pitched whine slices through the heavy air as you roll your hips again with much more force this time. Michael has to grip the sheets beneath him because he doesn’t want to leave bruises on you. Every little slide of skin on skin forces broken noises from him. He’s getting really desperate.

- „He’s lame,“ spits Marko. „She’s not even in operating temperature, hot and bothered and he’s about to blow.“ That doesn’t stop the smallest vampire from enjoying the show none. He’s roughly rubbing himself with a slightly demented smirk on his face. That pup’s inexperienced, unlikely to get any girl off in timely manner but it’s certainly entertaining to watch him be basically dommed by a tiny thing like you.

- „Play with her nips or something,“ growls Marko under his breath.

- ,,Eat her out, man. Please,“ whines Paul. He’s almost there. If Dwayne would just speed up a little bit. Be a little rougher. „I wanna eat her out.“

- „We know,“ Marko rolls his eyes because everybody knows Paul has oral fixation of ungodly proportions.

- „I can do it better than you.“

- „Keep dreaming.“

- „Fuck, Dwayne, harder.“

- „Shut up, dude.“

- „I could finish her in 10 seconds flat.“

- „Paul, you fly a step closer and I will put you in a cage.“

-… „kinky.“

- Loud moan cuts off their banter. You finally give the boy what he wants and gently guide him inside. He claws at the sheets, trying to restraint himself from bucking into your slick tight heat. You support yourself with hands on his stomach. As you slowly rise up and slide down again you can feel the hard muscles under your fingers moving. Sweat covers your skin as you work on riding him. There’s no rush but that means nothing to Michael because he’s about to come undone in matter of seconds. The poor boy was so pent-up thanks to your thorough foreplay he couldn’t possibly hold on any longer.

- With choked cry he slips out of you, ropes of white cum land on his own chest. He’s trembling in his post orgasm bliss. Barely conscious as it is.

- You get off the bed to clean yourself and bring a wet washcloth to take care of your lover too.

-„Um, hey… sorry…“ he stutters shamefully.

- Dwayne’s pressing his cum covered hand to Marko’s mouth to silence the string of profanities directed at Michael. He has no brain when he comes.

- „I can… you know…“ It’s easy to see Michael really isn’t used to not delivering in bed. His cheeks are stained crimson with embarrassment. He grabs your wrist as you are about to clean the last of the mess on his skin. You smile at him kindly.

- „No need. Actually I should be on my wa. It looks like I’m in a world of trouble already,“ you say as you look out of the window.

- David smirks. „That you are kitten.“

#The Lost Boys Michael #The Lost Boys David #The Lost Boys Marko #The Lost Boys Paul #The Lost Boys Dwayne #The Lost Boys #TLB #The Lost Boys x reader #Michael Emerson x reader #Enaris brain goes brrrrrr

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just-a-creep-babe · 4 years ago

Text

Teasing & Denial~

Ticci Toby x Reader Smut

Commissioned by anonymous, thank you so much luv 🥰😘

Requests are closed

Masterlist: x

His hands are pinned up above his head, shirt lifted to expose his chest while his pants have been shoved down to reveal his cock

He’s hard and throbbing as he twitches beneath your touch

“P-please… please…” he whines

His shallow breaths are hot and heavy as he pants the words out

“F-fuck—pretty please—!”

You chuckle, but refuse to give him what he wants

Instead, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, lapping at the precum beading up his slit

He flexes his wrists against the restraints, jutting his hips up and throwing his head back with a deliciously pathetic whine

“You’re so cute, baby boy~ Such a good, obedient little slut for me, aren’t you?~” you coo

He nods frantically, whimpering

“Y-yes—please. I’m—I’m your good slut, (y/n)! G-god, fuck, please!~”

He jerk up again, looking for some kind of contact, some kind of release—only to get absolutely nothing

You have to bite back a smirk as you run the pads of your fingers up and down the underside of his shaft

His body thrashes—a twitch or voluntary movement, you’re not sure—and more sweet moans escape him

“Tell me what you want, baby. Tell me, and I just might reward you~”

“I—a-ah~ I wanna—wanna cum. P-please, Mistress, I wanna cum so badly. Pretty please—”

You hum

He looks so desperate

You know he’s at a point where he’d do anything for you—and the thought of having someone so dangerous at the mercy of your touch is exhilarating

Without breaking eye contact, you wrap your lips around him and watch as he shudders and gasps

But you don’t take him any further down your throat

Instead, you trace your tongue over his slit, lathering the tip with attention while ignoring the rest of his pulsing length

He looks so cute, so absolutely adorable as he writhes, trying to flex into your mouth, his head falling back and chest heaving with every choked moan

You let him hump himself into your mouth for a while, never letting him get more than a few inches deep before pulling back all over again

He’s so eager, so wonderfully responsive as you pleasure him between your lips

Your tongue flicks at his most sensitive parts in short, quickly repeating motions while you hollow out your cheeks at the same time

You can feel him trying to fuck himself into your mouth as best as he can, moaning and squirming for more

And right as he’s starting to get a bit too eager for your liking, you pull away, and the wet warmth of your tongue disappears from his pulsing cock completely

“N-no! Fuck, fuck—please!”

His fervent protests fall on deaf ears

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby,” you pout mockingly, “Were you getting close again? Hm? Did you wanna cum in my mouth?”

Toby’s always been the softest, sweetest boy you’ve ever been with

You almost feel bad for being so cruel, denying his release for this long despite him being as obedient and submissive as ever

But he’s just so much fun to tease, how could you possibly resist?

He nods at your question, still dazed and reeling from the shock of being denied yet again

You tilt you head, coy smirk playing at your lips, and watch as he takes in deep, shuddering breaths, trying to control the way his hips keep stuttering up for your touch

It’s all too endearing, really~

“So cute, baby. You’re so cute when you get all desperate for me~”

You trace down his torso, and he squirms beneath feather-light touches

“(Y-y/n)—Mistress~”

Panting and shaking, he whimpers your name, looking up at you like you’re a goddess

You toy with your bottom lip between your teeth, body tingling pleasantly at the sight he offers

But still, you manage to resist getting too excited in the moment

Instead, you continue tracing down his form, gently stroking his scarred skin as you give him time to catch his breath

You want him nice and ready for what you have in mind, after all~

When his breathing’s calmed down and you think he’s had enough time to recover, you wrap your hand around the toy strapped to your hips, giving the silicon cock a few strokes just to tease him

His gaze immediately fixates on your movements, his own member twitching in need as his hips rolling up into nothing at the same pace that you jerk the toy

He bites his lip, brows furrowing

And then you release your grip on the fake shaft, chuckling at the urgency in his eyes

“You want this, baby?”

He swallows thickly

“Yes,” he breaths out

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows back another moan before adding, “p-pretty please—“

His begging is all you need to hear

You reach out, grabbing a fistful of his dark brown locks between your fingers

And then you tug his head to the side for access to his neck, being delicate enough to not injure him, but harsh enough to be firm and commanding

He whines, but lets you take control of his body nonetheless

He’s all yours to use, all yours to play with~

Your lips find purchase on his neck in a teasing kiss, teeth nipping at flesh before moving down to his collarbone

You take your sweet, sweet time littering love marks all over him until reddish-purple flowers are blossoming on his skin

He shudders as you do, still wriggling and writhing beneath you, his member rubbing against your thigh and smearing streaks of white every time he tries to grind up for more friction

“That’s my good boy~”

Your free hand lines the toy up to his entrance while you’re distracting him with your mouth

You murmur encouraging nothings as you ever so slowly ease into him—all the way until the toy’s completely disappearing inside him

His lips part in a hushed moan as you bottom out, his eyes glazing over and back arches for more

“Look at you, baby. You’re so cute, so fucking perfect for me~”

Your eager praises are accompanied by slow, gentle thrusts

His hands ball into fists above his head, muscles tensing as wave upon wave of pleasure crashes through him

There’s a perfectly blissed-out look on his face as you rock into him with calculated movements

Try as he might to hold back his desperate sounds, the room is filled with his eager cries

It’s like music to your ears~

He rolls his hips back, meeting you halfway for every thrust, trying to get you to go faster and harder, but you maintain your even pace

“(Y-y/n), please. More. P-please, I need more~”

You hum, biting your lip, enjoying the way his cock twitches against your stomach

He wants you

He wants you to get him off—wants you to pound into him until he’s nothing but a shambling, babbling mess of a person

But you’re not done having your fun just yet~

“You want more, baby? Yeah? I bet you want me to fuck your dumb little brain out, don’t you?”

He nods frantically, and he’s about to say something, but he quickly cuts himself off with a loud moan as you hit that spot inside him

He jerks, a string of curses escaping him, his body tensing so that you can see his muscles tightening beneath his sweat-slicked skin

His sounds are nearly driving you desperate as well

It takes more willpower than you’d like to admit to pause, keeping still so that the toy is just barely grazing the same spot

“N-no!” he whines in protest, cursing, knowing all too well what you plan on doing to him.

You have to resist touching yourself at the sight of him so worked up

“P-please—don’t stop! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Please—“

“Tsk tsk tsk,” you shush him, tapping your fingers against his thighs, “ah ah, good boys don’t complain now, do they?”

He shuts his eyes, brows furrowing and body trembling as his teeth find purchase on his bottom lip until it bleeds

You smack his thigh, forcing him to release his lip and return his attention back to you

He shakes his head in response to your previous question, swallowing thickly, looking up at you with lust-filled eyes

So submissive

“Good boy~” you praise, purring in satisfaction

You wrap a hand around the base of his cock to reward him, and watch as he bucks up, seeking more of your touch

“Are you gonna take it, baby? Gonna take my cock like the little slut you are?”

He nods eagerly, hands fumbling to grip the bindings for leverage on something

“Yes, please, I’ll be good,” he promises, groaning, “F-fuck, please fuck me, Mistress~”

You hum, running barely-there strokes up and down his stiff member, ever so faintly jerking him off to get him nice and riled up—even more so than he already is

It has his head falling back again, and you savor how vocal he becomes at the slightest hint of contact

You coo more praises, chuckling at how needy he looks when he squirms beneath you

You really do feel bad for teasing him this much when he’s been so obedient, hanging onto your every word—but you just can’t help it

He looks so damn cute when he’s this desperate

The slick pooling between your legs has gotten damn near unbearable by now, but you don’t want to stop just yet

No, you want to drag this out as long as you can

Which is why you take your time toying with him, moving your hips again to readjust him to the tempo of skin smacking against skin

You move faster than the last pace you’d set before, but still not as fast as you know he likes

Every time you pump the toy into him, it reaches right where it needs to—and with every push of your hips, you feel his body tense eagerly with a surge of pleasure and adrenaline

He looks so needy, trembling and mewling beneath you, that you can’t help but succumb to what he wants—what he needs

You give in to the desire to fuck him faster and harder, impaling him on the toy cock like he’s your own personal fucktoy

And your efforts are immediately rewarded

He’s loud and absolutely shameless as he cries out for you, cursing and mewling, yanking at his restraints, his back arching and his cock twitching impatiently

You know he won’t last very long at the rate you’re going

But you don’t want to stop just yet

You use him shamelessly and recklessly, taking out all of your frustrations by pounding into him until he’s gasping for breath

And then, right as he’s about to cum—his member tensing and his voice getting louder as he nears ever so close to ecstasy yet again—you stop

“N-no, fuck!” he cries out, rolling his hips, trying to find the slightest bit more friction to get off, but you pull away again before he can reach it

A few tears spill down his cheeks, his body unable to process the sheer lack of release he’s had to endure for god knows how long by now

“Aww, it’s alright, baby,” you shush him, wiping away his tears. “There’s no need to cry~”

Your cooing doesn’t do much to quell his desperation

“I-I wanna cum. Please, please let me cum, Mistress. Please~”

His begging goes straight to your core

You smoothen out his hair, contemplating the sadistic plan running through your head

You know fully well that you shouldn’t go through with it

It’s much too cruel

But at the same time, you don’t want him to stop being so desperate, so on edge for every faint bit of attention you give him

With a knowing smirk, you shake your head

“No baby, I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet tonight~”

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #Ticci Toby #ticci toby x reader smut #ticci toby x reader #creepypasta smut

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inlustrissss · 4 years ago

Note

What about a fluff one shot of L falling in love with his friend and work partner... but he has no idea how to declare his love for reader so L decides to ask for misa's help.

Also, can i get a Goth and Gender Neutral reader? 👉👈

you asked, you got it! Although I am just a little bit late, I hope you won't be mad at me for this 🥺💕 I tried my utmost best with keeping it respectfully gender neutral so I hope you like it!!! Love, Inlustris

Monitor

L Lawliet x GN! Reader

warnings: none!

summary: After solving one case after the other, in the most dangerous moment the famous detective known as L finally starts to realize what is most dear to him. Though never being involved with feelings or touchy subjects, L asks an outsider for help.

My requests are open! Submit here!

Throughout the big room no light shone through the thick curtains which had separated the working place from the window that lead to the outside world.

As the busy streets in the afternoon spring sun, came to an end, only the tired clicking and ticking could be heard. The static of the TV wired to one of the main bodies of the computers flickered and played over the loud chirping of the long-billed plovers. As the rainy days came to an end, the smell of fresh gras was almost visible, though the headquarters seemed to only know serious work.

The (H/C) haired only sighed, noticing their long friend and colleague working on a file absentmindedly. Normally, a person who didn’t know the infamous detective L, they’d always find his behavior questioning, but would never interfere- thinking the male would work that way. Though (Y/N) knew, this wasn’t his 100%, something must be on his mind.

Glancing, almost stalking him for a while, they thought the genius would notice their stares, which he usually does, but for some reason his nail biting only intensified. Having talked to Watari, L’s personal butler, both of them ad agreed on trying to remind the man to stop his habit. Even this genius is human and gets trapped by simple anxious habits.

“Ryuzaki-”, calling him with his alias during working time and while on the open, he tensed up, “Stop your nail biting.”.

Even with their soft tone escaping their rosy but now colored in a beautiful darker shade he seemed to grow more nervous. “Besides, isn’t it time for a break? I’ve noticed the past couple of hours you’re not acting like yourself.”, looking around, the noticed they were alone. “Are you okay?”, they asked in a hushed tone.

Looking around, L noticed the big, round and innocent looking (E/C) orbs, staring back into his dark irises, worry etched on their face. Their make-up and unique style fitting and contradicting to their profession as always, L rushed his thought that they’d probably make a better model than Misa-Misa. But it would be a waste to their current investigation and future cases, due to their outstanding performance as his right hand.

Inching closer to L their (E/C) eyes narrowed, squinting ever so slightly. L didn’t make any movement, not a flinch. Their eyes would notice everything, even the slightest squirm. Quickly turning around though, L shrugged “Whatever you are talking about-”, taking a hold of his sugary cup of tea, the male stood up to leave, ”You’re right, it is indeed time for a break.”, opening the door, he left the dazzled one behind: “Monitor each fottage I left please, thanks (Y/N)”

Taking a long sip out of his plain white cup filled with a half of tea and the other half of sugar, L placed down the now empty cup on to a silver tray, that mostly Watari used to transport little sandwiches for each hard working inspector and treats for the detective. Taking some time to think about the events, L let his hands slide into his pockets, though stopped mid way as he had noticed that certain ping sound coming from the elevator.

Looking up, it was the said model: Misa-Misa, with her blond hair swaysing each step she too and the extraordinary Lolita-Goth look he oh so liked on his partner. Meeting her sea blue eyes, her facial expression lit up and her friendly and happy go lucky demeanor showed: “Ryuuakiii!”, waving her hand at him while dragging the letter “i” into an annoying laughing fit, she revealed a fashion magazine in her left.

“Good afternoon, Misa.”, waving back to the blonde, though with less enthusiasm, he asked, “Were you on your way to see (Y/N)?”, mentioning the magazine in Misas hand. “Oh yes!”, holding the magalogue into view, showing proudly the front page which contained the last few shootings the model mentioned the week before her last visit, “I wanted to show them the new copy we’ve been waiting for and--”, L cut her off by raising his hand, “Sorry, you can’t see them right now, it’s still working time, Misa.”

“Aww, seriously? You probably just want them all for yourself!”, pouting, Misa just crosse3d her arms before her chest, but L remained silent, softly repeating her words to himself “All for myself?”. The blonde looked up, a curious gaze meeting the raven haired, “So you do want her all to yourself!”, giggling, the model covered up her red lips with her free hand. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, they are a person on their own, I can’t simply restrict and own them.”

“Of course you know what I mean, you’re a genius, you should know!”, sighing, the blonde twirled a lose strand of hair between her middle and pointy finger: “Maybe all of that sugar did get to you..”,mocking the male, L just shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

But this did got him thinking: Does he truly want them all to himself? It indeed has been now quite the long time he was restless while working, not entirely there. His mind wandering off into an imaginative world or worrisome state whenever (Y/N) wouldn’t be around- no, scratch that, it didn’t matter, he quickly noticed.

Wether they’d be there or not, his mind was partly fixated on their well being. Though wasn’t it always like that? They’ve been partners for a really long time, longer than his knowledge of Naomi Misora for sure, and friends too.

He read a lot of things during his early days, a lot about solving different puzzles and games, but he could never wrap his hand around when they came.

His experimental time with how feelings would work while (Y/N) were partners were over, he saw himself to them as an equal by now, but what if- “Helloo, earth to Ryuzaki!”, waving the magazine in front of the famous detective, Misa huffed, “Man, bet you’re thinking about (Y/N) if it takes you that long to get out of your dreamy thoughts”, gifting him a look of her tongue, she mocked him again, “You should try that brain-work on finding Kira! I wanna go on a date with Light already again, he promised!”, a date?

Maybe a little trip, spending the day with his friend would make the situation a bi8t lighter- finding out about his true thoughts and feelings that hid in his clouded mind. “Can’t believe I’m saying this-”, he murmured, “But: Misa, I might or might not need your help with something.”, he bluntly responded, ignoring her witty comments., “Help? With what?”, again, her airy head. Sighing, L explained another time, “You see, you’re such an emotional person, where I’m more technical.”, shoving his hands into his pockets, in a hunched position he began to walk, motioning her to follow him into a room across the hall, “The past few days I might’ve felt a little bit under the weather and I do have my suspicion, but to be honest, even as a detective, I can’t help but not be able to solve this mystery on my own, Misa.”

Opening the door, he held it open for the young woman to step inside. “What do you mean under the weather? Are you sick?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sick, when it’s just a feeling, I believe, and not just a condition.”, he stated, scratching his had as he continued to stay while Misa took the opportunity to relax her legs and sit down on to a couch. “Wait, was I maybe right when I said you might have a thing for (Y/N)?”, noticing how L had perked up by hearing their name, Misas sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle a few shades lighter, already rosy cheeks deepening. “Awww~ Ryuzaki, really?”, she cooed at the usually emotionless acting detective.

Like previously mentioned, he’s also just a human.

“For a long time now, I want to find out about these thoughts that were kept in the back of my head.”, especially now the most dangerous case since Beyond Birthday, everyday might as well be the last day that he would glance at their beautiful eyes, and their wonderful perfume reaching his nose. “I’m just not sure how”

Eyes softening along with her features, Misas excitement toned down and switched with a warm smile, noticing how lost the male was when it came to the most basic human needs, “It’s fairly easy on finding out how you feel about them, Ryuzaki.”

“If it would be that easy, I wonder why I can’t put my finger on it”, lifting his thumb to his mouth he began biting down on his nail, eyes following the trail of the skyline, visible due to the opened window.

Standing up and entrusting her weight back to her feet, Misas smile never wavered, “Why don’t you just ask them out?”

Dark eyes wandering back to the model, he raised a brow: “I work with them every day, I see (Y/N) every day.”

“I don’t mean as a colleague or as a friend, Ryuzaki. I’m sure they’ll say yes regardless and besides, spending a day with (Y/N) will give you surely an idea if not a start of your thesis on how to feel about them!”, looking up at the taller male with a determined look, Misa Amane was more than sure: “And if the firt time won’t be enough, the ask them out again and again and again, until you got your answer.”, making her way to the door, she stepped out. “It’s not too late and not too cold to go yet.”, winking to the male she laughed one last time

“Take them out-”, she waved, “There is this pretty nice café down the block! I’ll come around another time!”, with that, she had left.

Thinking over the blondes words, she must be right. Besides, some time off shouldn’t hurt, it never does. Slow steps were heard as L Lawliet made his way towards the ain investiation room, where he had left (Y/N) to continue his work, so none of the progress was lost.

Not forgetting any manners, he knocked, signaling that someone would come in and not startle them. “Oh, you’re back.”, their angelic like voice greeted the male. “Yeah, though it’s now you’re turn for a break, it’s time to wrap things up.”

Swallowing his build up lumb which seemed to sit tight above his adams apple, he stood straight, expression not changing: “Would you want to go out with me?”

Turning around swiftly, (H/C) hair danced around their pretty head in the process as their eyes widened and cheeks reddened.

“There is this pretty nice café down the block.”, he said.

Seeing them smile set her at ease, nodding (Y/N) only laughed, “Sure, L. Let’s go.”

Turning off the computers, (Y/N) stood up to join L’s side and walk down the hall towards the elevator. Smiling the whole way towards the Café and while being with him, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier.

Happy that Misa had come with her obnoxiously loud voice, gaining (Y/N)’s attention on the other side of the door and happy that the whole building is bugged.

No, they didn’t neglect their work- (Y/N) did monitor the fottage, though L did not necessarily mention which one.

Just like spring had brought the most wonderful flowers, a relationship blossoming would soon follow up.

#l lawliet x reader #l x reader #L Lawliet #misa amane #death note x reader #gender neutral s/o #death note L #death note #death note l x reader #L lawliet oneshot #oneshot

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userholland · 4 years ago

Text

all for her [3]

pairing: dad!bartender!tom x female!reader

warnings: cursing, lots of angst

summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?

word count: 8.7k!

a/n: another month has passed but! finally here’s part 3!!! sorry for the delay but i was caught in between this rut & midterms so it took a while for any big ideas to spark. but i’m so happy that so many of y’all have enjoyed this story. i want to say again that this is my favorite fic series i’ve ever written so thank you so so much for appreciating it! i may end with 5 parts, but i won’t leave y’all hanging!

— masterlist ☆彡

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

A week had passed since the gruesome bar fight and Tom was still left with a dark bruise surrounding his right eye along with another on the side of his chin and the start of his jaw. Luckily, there were no broken bones or dislocated limbs, but it was made known that he had a concussion after you forced him to go to the emergency room and get properly looked at by a doctor. As stubborn as he was, Tom tried listening to the careful instructions given for the follow-up appointments that would come, but everything went in one ear and out the other.

“We want to make sure each part of the brain that was impacted is still intact, so we want you to see this specialist and they’ll run a few cognitive tests to make sure everything is okay.” The doctor explained in simple terms as he scribbled the information on his prescription pad and ripped it off.

You nodded, taking the paper from him, “How much is all this?”

“It’s not too costly, but insurance should cover most of it.” He reassured, glancing at you before looking back at Tom’s chart, “I recommend a lot of rest and time away from work for at least two to three days.”

Tom quickly looked over, “I can’t take off work right now. I really can’t afford to do that right now.”

“Mr. Holland, we want to make sure that there’s no way you could injure yourself even more than now. You need to take a few rest days in order to relax and stay away from anything strenuous.”

“I’m a bartender, I think I can-”

“Tom... relax, please.” You retorted at him, your jaw slightly clenched.

Tom stared out the window with his side against the wall, feeling like he was miles away even though he was just across the room. You peered over at him a few times throughout the appointment, but you knew he didn’t want to be here. One of the strings of his black hoodie curled around his pointer finger, pulling on the coil before letting it spring back, repeating it a few times as the doctor continued informing to you.

He’d been fixated on the results of the DNA test. It was rooted in his mind from how many times he read over it, convincing himself it wasn’t true and it was a huge mistake. Doubt consumed his thoughts, wondering how he could have been so stupid to fall for the entire ruse even though Tom never regretted one moment of raising Summer. He loved her so much and would do anything to have her back, but finding out the truth made it harder for him to figure out if he should still be fighting for her.

Throughout the nights, he tossed and turned enough to wake you up, feeling his pull on the sheets. Sometimes you’d hold him from behind, curling your arms and locking them to make him feel safe. You pressed your cheek against his back, the eerily sound of his heartbeat against your ear as it quickly thudded. His thumb brushed over the top of your hand, remembering that you were still there, but when he closed his eyes, every thought crawled its way back in and cluttered his mind enough to make him want to burst into an angry fit.

After a few minutes, the doctor left you two to gather your things. Tom ran his hand over his hair as he started to walk to the door, but you blocked him from taking another step. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and your eyebrows furrowed, Tom knew that look was never good.

“Talk to me… C’mon, what’s going on? What’s on your mind?” You softly asked, still looking into his eyes.

Tom ran his hands down his face, a light groan leaving his lips from the frustration slowly building inside his entire body.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Y/N. Please. I’m fucking embarrassed enough.” He huffed.

“Then when are you gonna talk about it?” You retorted, your eyebrows furrowed from concern, “You can’t keep the weight of the world on your shoulders forever.”

He shrugged, “I’m not Summer’s dad. That’s it! It was all fucking nothing. It doesn’t matter-”

“It’s always mattered, Tom!” You whisper-shouted, not wanting to make a scene with everyone passing by even though the door was closed, “What Maggie did to you was fucked up, but you raised that girl to be who she is now and that’s what matters.”

Tom gulped, his tired eyes beginning to water as he kept eye contact with you. His bottom lip quivered, but he quickly wiped his tears with his hoodie sleeve. The dryness in his throat hurt and even closing his bruised eye was painful to do, making him curse under his breath every time. He clenched his jaw tight as he rubbed the back of his neck, but you placed your hands on each side of his delicate face.

It was hard to see him in this state where nothing mattered to him and there was a greyness that clouded over the great and wonderful person he truly was. It wasn’t the Tom you grew up with, not even close, so to see this side of him for the first time astonished you, and you weren’t sure what else it would take to see his old self other than getting Summer back.

He ran his hand over his soft curls, “Can we just go home?”

“Yeah, but remember we have a call with a lawyer tomorrow morning. He thinks you could get a good settlement deal since the guy who beat you up had prior arrests.” You reminded him, pecking his cheek then rubbing your thumb over the bruised skin under his eye.

Tom nodded, “You know we can’t afford this guy.”

“We’ll make it work.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist with his around your neck.

He licked his lips, “Y/N, I’m not gonna make you pay for it.”

“Who said you were making me? I know you want her back as much as I do.” You sniffled, gently holding his face so he could look into your sincere eyes and saw the way they gleamed.

Neither of you wanted to surrender and it never crossed your minds to give up on Summer, but it was getting harder when you felt like Tom was a ticking time bomb and it could only take Maggie’s choice of words to pick at the one nerve no one else could reach to make him completely snap.

Your noses brushed together with your foreheads lightly pressed, both of you reminding yourselves that you had one another. Tom placed his hand on your cheek before leaning in, feeling how soft and light your lips were against his and tasting your minty chapstick. As your eyes tightly closed, you shared a slow kiss with your arms still loosely wrapped around his neck. It was a blissful kiss, one you hadn’t shared in a while, but it was comforting in moments like this where you were terrified of what was to come.

When Tom pulled away, he planted a faint kiss on the center of your forehead, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more.” You mumbled as you looked into his beautiful, russet eyes, “C’mon. Let’s go home and put some ice on that eye again, maybe take a nap after.” You hinted.

He half-smiled, “That sounds nice.”

You quickly furrowed your eyebrows, pouted your bottom lip, “Hmm, and maybe take a shower, you look like hell.” You joked, raking your fingers through the front of his messy curls to the crown of his head.

Tom rolled his eyes and smirked, “You know you used to be nicer to me, like when we were kids.”

“Well that’s before I fell for you, I can’t get too soft… plus, I think it balances your ego.” You smiled, pressing your lips against his while the two of you giggled within another kiss.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Later that afternoon, you and Tom were napping on the couch with the TV on low volume. The birds chirped by the window and traffic was below the terrace, the sudden honks echoing between the buildings. You were laying between Tom’s legs, the fluffy blanket over your whole body. With your arms loose around Tom’s torso, you slumbered with your head comfortably against his chest. Tom wanted to go some sleep, blinking his dry eyes every few seconds to keep himself awake, trying to distract himself with his phone.

Light snores left your lips, your face hiding in his neck as you unconsciously curled up more. Tom stretched his neck a bit, making sure you were okay before running his hand over your hair. If he could lose Summer, Tom worried that you could slip away just as easily. He never realized how protective he was, hoping it wouldn’t push you away from his own faults and insecurities; he didn’t want to be left alone.

Tom kissed the top of your hair, nuzzling his face against the top of your head. Throughout this, you were his rock, an anchor to hold him down when things got to be too much and he couldn’t believe how supportive you were with how confused he was. You held him when he cried and you listened to him when he needed to vent. It was things you’d done before, but you both felt emotionally closer like another wall had fallen and there was nothing you couldn’t tell each other.

He slowly raked his fingers through the crown of your head to the end of your back, over and over as you peacefully napped before his phone vibrated against the coffee table. You stirred in your sleep, turning your head away and loosely wrapping your arm under Tom’s neck. As his vision cleared from his sleepy daze, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at the contact name.

“Hey, baby, I have to take this,” Tom said in a low tone, not wanting to completely wake you up.

You nodded, your eyes still closed, but Tom slowly got on his feet. After he placed the blanket over you, Tom went out to his bedroom so you could have some quiet.

“Hey, dad.” He answered.

“Hey, Tommy.”

His father always had the same monotone voice, like a poker face that he had to figure out since he was born.

“What’s going on? Is Sheryl okay?” Tom replied, sitting down on the bed.

Ever since his dad got remarried a few years ago, Tom and his father’s relationship slowly parted over time. With work, school, and a kid, Tom didn’t have time to take the backhanded compliments and concerned parenting skills that his new stepmom persistently gave to him on any family occasion. They used to have dinners together every Saturday night when Tom could get away from the city and school, but each one got worse. The last straw was around this time last year, it was Thanksgiving dinner and the blowout was something Tom tried to forget every other week. He couldn’t even bring it all up to you which was hard to keep since it’s been biting at his nerves for the last year.

As Summer got older, Tom didn’t want her to think she was “some kind of mistake” as Sheryl would put it. So for the sake of her, he told himself that his family wasn’t going to cost his daughter’s happiness and he never returned a call back until now. She asked about her grandparents around birthdays or holidays throughout the year, but it was getting harder for Tom to avoid the question when she wouldn’t give up sometimes.

Even though Tom’s mom was usually out of the country, she made sure to send presents, pictures and call every other weekend to make sure he and Summer were okay, but Tom would never admit to her if something was wrong. His mom was never there, not for him growing up and rarely now, but he knew she was trying to make up for it holiday after holiday.

“Uh, she’s well. We’re fine. I just wanted to call you and ask what’s going on… How’s Summer?” His dad genuinely asked.

Tom chuckled, “Why do you ask?”

His father hesitated for a second with his answer, “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Your mom called me and said that she hadn’t heard from you either. So, we’re just worried about you…”

“Yeah… yeah.” Tom raised his eyebrows as he rolled his eyes.

He heard his father sigh, “I know things weren’t the best the last time I saw you-”

“Some woman I barely know tells me that I can’t raise my daughter? That she was a mistake? No, dad. I should be visiting even more after that.” Tom retorted, grinning to mask how the anger was building up inside him slowly but surely.

“She’s your stepmom.”

“Not to me.”

Tom’s dad didn’t fight back his bitter attitude, “Tom, I just want to talk to you. It’s just you and me.”

“Dad, I’m really… not in the mood.”

“Let’s get lunch… or dinner, maybe? Just the two of us.” His dad suggested, almost pleading.

There was silence between the conversation as Tom thought for a few seconds. As damaged as his bond was with his dad, he didn’t want to push him away. It would be what Maggie was doing to him, and to feel the separation from a child hurt like hell.

Tom sniffled, “Fine, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Well, what about dinner tonight? Where do you want to meet?”

“Um, we can meet at the bar I work at… before my shift starts. Six o’clock.” Tom trailed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Tom quickly hung up before he could burst into tears. In the back of his mind, he thought there was an ultimatum behind the real reason he wanted to talk, not thinking it was just some catching up. But, the stress of the past month had made Tom into a walking mess. Maybe this would bring back some old times, like when he was a kid in a baseball cap and his dad brought him to baseball games and carnivals when his mom was on business trips.

“Fucking Christ,” Tom said under his breath, running his hands through his hair. He blinked away the tears at the waterlines of his tired eyes, wiping them with his t-shirt before getting up.

It was still hard to pass Summer’s room and see it still untouched and empty. Tom kept it neat and clean, hoping it motivated his hope to have her back home. Sometimes he’d sit on her bed and think about the little life the three of you had together. She probably missed her stuffed animals she had tea parties with or the t-shirts she couldn’t fit in her bag. Maggie refused to let him over anymore, not after the last time they saw each other and how frustrated he got. It was hard to think that Tom was holding out for nothing, and Summer could never be in his life again.

He leaned against the doorframe, staring at the bunny sitting on her bed. It was the bunny you and Tom spent hours looking for sometimes, one day realizing that Summer started to do it on purpose. She would hide it in the last place you could think of and it became a race of who could find Mr. Fluffycakes first. She finally admitted one day that she thought it was a game that you and Tom liked to play, so she would try to find the perfect place to almost camouflage the soft, grey bunny.

Tom held it in his hands, bring it up to his face, and smelling the familiar, lavender-vanilla detergent. He sighed, glaring at the small paintings taped with scotch tape to her wall by the dollhouse in the corner of her room. It was Summer’s favorite Christmas present she had ever gotten, Tom’s mom hoping she’d like it after getting it from London. She traveled a lot, always sending things in the mail to Summer, but rarely making appearances with how much she did work. Tom hoped that would change from when he was a kid, but now he understood how his parents ended up separating.

“You okay, babe?” You grinned, leaning on the doorframe and glaring at Tom sat on Summer’s book nook.

“Yeah, just miss her.” He half-smiled, biting his bottom lip after and tossing her bunny on the bed.

You walked over, sitting next to Tom and wrapping your arm around his shoulder before kissing his temple trailing to the apple of his cheek then lightly pressing your nose against his cheek.

“I bet she misses you a lot too.” You replied. “Have you heard from Maggie? Any chance of… seeing her? Maybe a short visit.” You asked, pulling your head away to turn to him.

He nodded, “We haven’t talked. I don’t want Summer to see me like this anyways.” Tom said low, lightly touching his bruised eye.

“C’mon, you look noble and tough. She’ll think you’re more of a hero than you already are.” You joked, trying to get a smile out of him.

“Hmm, I wish I felt like that.” Tom sighed.

Trying to figure out the gears working in Tom’s head was always a mystery. You watched his brown eyes shift back and forth as he was leaned over, his elbows against the top of his knees. Another long sigh passed his lips and you could tell something else was really bothering him, not needing him to say it.

“What’s wrong, baby? C’mon, you have that furrow in your brow.” You tilted your head.

He bit the inside of his cheek, his pride fighting his urge to just open his mouth, but he had a soft spot for you like no one else could. The instant Tom looked into your eyes, he felt the comfort he knew he needed.

“My dad called me, just now.”

“Oh… Is that good or bad?” You asked.

He cracked his knuckles, shrugging, “Both, kind of...”

You didn’t know much about Tom and his dad’s relationship other than Tom hating his stepmom, in light terms than he used. But, he wanted Summer to keep in contact with them for as long as he could. So many years had passed since you last saw his dad, so it didn’t feel right to butt in when you knew the bare minimum, but last Thanksgiving was unforgivable in Tom’s book so you stood by his side on what he felt.

“We’re gonna meet for dinner tonight… at the bar. I want to take a shift tonight.” Tom added.

You sighed, “Tom, you can’t work. We have to go to the doctor soon.”

“Just tonight. I promise. I… I need to do something with myself.” He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing the top of his head before looking back into your eyes.

“Okay… I understand. But, just tonight.” You agreed and rubbed his arm, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.

Tom sat up, straightening his back and you pulled your face away from his shoulder to look him in the eye. Your faces were close together, a few inches away before he asked, “Can you come with me? ‘Cause, I don’t think I can do it alone.” He admitted then bit the inside of his cheek.

You tried to hide your smile, happy that he was opening up a bit at a time.

“Of course, babe. I’ll go with you for however long you need me.” You said as you trailed your hand to his, intertwining your fingers together and giving him a quick squeeze. Tom’s smile slowly painted on his tired face, bringing the top of your hand to his lips.

“Thank you. Really, thank you. You don’t know how grateful I am for you.”

“Well, I have all day.” You jeered and it made him smile again, wrapping his arms around you to scatter kisses on your cheek and neck.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The bar wasn’t busy during the late afternoon, before the fleet of college students and single women came through for the nightlife. But it was a relaxed spot when the sun was still out. A few husky men sat at the bar, eating chips and drinking pints to watch the various games on the flat screens or truckers stopping by for a nice meal and taking a smoke outside. It wasn’t the most formal place to meet up, but Tom had work in two hours so it was more convenient than worrisome to impress his dad.

You and Tom sat at a table for four, sitting next to one another and your arm linked around his. He was dressed in his work attire which was a dark-blue button-down paired with a white t-shirt with his name tag on the right side of his chest, solid black jeans that were a bit baggy on him, and his raggedy converse with the laces looped around the ankle once. He kept checking his watch every few minutes while he tapped his right foot against the floor and it began to make you a bit antsy.

“Baby, you need to relax.” You reminded him, lightly pressing your hand down on his thigh.

“I am. I’m just mentally preparing for what he’s gonna say to me.” He sighed as he sat up in his chair.

“Like what?”

“Oh, you really want me to go through the entire list?” Tom sarcastically joked, a half-smile on his lips.

You humored him with a giggle, but nodded your head, “You’re overthinking it. It’ll be okay and I’m right here next to you.”

Tom leaned in, giving you a light kiss that made your stomach fill with butterflies. You never knew how tender he could be when he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoyed PDA. But, he became putty when he was around you by this point that it was hard not to want to kiss you when you comforted him.

He quickly looked down at his watch again, “He’s almost an hour late. He probably bailed.”

“Don’t say that. He’s gonna come, maybe, he’s just in weekend traffic.” You tried to keep his head up.

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn’t help but slowly feeling the creeping feeling of abandonment on his shoulders. He wanted to give his dad a chance, he really did, but this was reminding him of how he was never the most reliable. It twisted Tom’s trust issues in every person he met and having to be forced to sit there, wondering and waiting, was eating Tom alive.

Another half-hour passed and Tom decided to clock in early. He didn’t feel like having to sit there for another hour, only to be asked and told exactly what he expected to hear. You told him that you’d sit at the end of the bar, staying with him until he specifically asked you to go home, but really you wanted to hang around to make sure Tom didn’t get into another bar fight that ended up with him having more than a concussion.

Some college students fled in and asked for a round of beers while others waited for their favorite cocktails. There was enough staff tonight that Tom didn’t feel overwhelmed like last few times, sometimes having to clock in on days he didn’t work because someone called in sick. The new guys were nice, most of them young and needing something to do during graduate school or trying to make rent.

As Tom wiped down the bar when a group of girls left, his manager, Teddy, called his name from behind. He quickly looked over his shoulder and tossed the rag in the bucket underneath the bar, walking over to Teddy who never failed to not have a clipboard in his hands. He never took off his wedding ring at work like some of the other servers and bartenders and even so, he gushed about his wife, Anna, when he could. Even though he sounded like a broken record some days, Tom admired how Teddy flaunted his stable, almost 20-year relationship.

“Glad to see you back, Tommy!” Teddy grinned at him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. I feel better, I just have to go to a few doctor’s appointments, if that’s okay with you.” Tom asked in the moment, crossing his arms.

“Of course! Of course. For how long you’ve been working here, I don’t think you’ve ever taken a sick day or called in last minute.”

“It’s just been two years, Teddy. You make me sound old.” Tom joked, cracking a smile.

“Yeah, but I still appreciate you. You’re a valuable asset.”

Tom didn’t want to take the compliment, but he still nodded and grinned.

“Hey, have you heard anything from that guy’s lawyers? Are they giving you any compensation?” Teddy curiously asked as he wrote with his signature, blue pen on the paper of the clipboard.

“My girlfriend and I found a lawyer, but I don’t know if he’s good enough to make sure I get the money I’m supposed to get. We’re working it out.” Tom reassured him as he glared at his feet.

Teddy smiled at Tom, big and sincere, “Well, as long as you have that support, you’ll be prepared for anything that comes your way. I’m sure your daughter will too.”

Tom nodded, “Yeah… She’s a great kid.”

He still hadn’t told anyone at work what had happened with Summer, seeing it was no one’s business other than everyone knowing he got hired because he was a single dad trying to provide for his daughter, at least who he thought was his daughter.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.” Teddy acknowledged before walking to the kitchen through the doors.

Tom bit his bottom lip before sealing his lips, looking out at the crowd coming in. Out of habit, he checked his watch again, but quickly turned away to not keep holding out with his dad to come. When Tom’s gaze landed on you, his eyes softened a bit at the natural glow you had. You were talking to a girl who you knew in college, both of you still sat at the end of the bar and you smiled and laughed with her.

As he walked over to where you were, your eyes went to him and your friend looked over her shoulder.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” She grinned, flashing Tom a friendly smile before she walked back over to her table of friends.

Tom’s eyes followed her then turned his focus to you, leaning on the bar, “Who was that?”

“She was in a few of my classes in college. Good friend. She thought that I had a pretty cute boyfriend too. Apparently, his black eye makes him look very brawny.” You teased, bringing your class of water to your lips as you watched him chuckle.

“Is he here tonight? I’d love to meet him finally.” Tom joked back.

The brightness was back in his brown eyes, a glimmer of hazel under the warm light. You hadn’t seen that gleam in a long time and it was a good sign and as much as you couldn’t know what was going through his mind, you just wanted more moments like this. Both of you away from the apartment where you weren’t secluded to walls that had too many memories built within them.

You leaned on the bar, your nose brushing against Tom’s before you shared a sweet, short kiss. You giggled against your lips as he did too, but you pulled back when you heard someone say his name from behind.

Tom’s dad stood there, his hair was a salt-and-pepper shade and a few lines along his face. The shoulders of his cargo jacket were wet from the downpour outside, a few raindrops dripping down his forehead and nose.

“Hey, Dad…” Tom sighed.

You turned to Tom, “Go, it’ll be okay, baby.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his.

“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” Tom said before giving you another kiss then walked around the bar to meet with his dad in the middle of the floor.

“Do you wanna sit?” His dad asked him, gesturing his hand to the table next to them.

“Yeah, I just have a few minutes,” Tom said, pulling out the chair.

His dad furrowed his eyebrows, “What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?”

“Uh, yeah. Sort of. It’s not important.” Tom deflected as he lightly touched his eye, not thinking his bruise was that noticeable in the dim lighting of the table.

“I think it’s important.” His dad chuckled, leaning on the table to get a closer look, “C’mon, who was it?”

Tom nodded his head, “That’s not why you’re here to talk, Dad.” He said lowly, crossing his arms.

“Well, I wanted to catch up. How are you? How’s Summer?” His dad tried to carry the conversation in a more positive manner, hoping he could connect with Tom without it becoming an argument.

“Um, Summer’s fine. She’s in kindergarten this year.” Tom replied.

“Wow! Kindergarten already? It’s like yesterday you were that age. You would always wear that damn baseball hat everyday… your mom would throw a fit and she tried to hide it from you all the time, but you managed to always find it. Ah, she just loved when your hair grew out.” His dad chuckled, leaning back in his chair and he glanced over at you.

“Yeah… She’s getting older.”

“You have a picture?” His dad quickly asked.

Tom pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery until he found a picture from a few weeks ago at her birthday party. It was when Summer was blowing out her candles, her knees pressed into the chair cushion and her one hand pushing her up on the table while the casted one was by her side as she tried to reach the top of the cake.

“She broke her arm? Geez, what’s going on in your lives?” His dad smiled at the picture before Tom took his phone back.

“Her and Y/N went ice skating and she fell and… it was a whole thing, but she’s okay now.”

His dad grinned, “Is that Y/N over there?” He nodded his head in your direction.

Tom looked over his shoulder at you, still sat at the bar and you were talking with one of the bartenders. You crossed your leg over the other as you carried the conversation with a glowing smile painted on your lips, gesturing with your one hand while the other cupped your drink. The red and yellow lights strobed against your face, highlighting it past all the people passing by to get drinks or dance on the other side of the room. You felt Tom’s eyes glued to you, making you stare back at him and give him a playful wink.

“Yeah. We’re... dating now.” Tom admitted, glancing down at the table and drawing slow circles with his index finger on the polished wood.

Tom’s dad smiled, “Yeah well, you always had a crush on her. Glad to know you guys are still close. She was always a nice kid and… from what you told me, she was good with Summer.”

Every time Summer’s name was brought up, it struck Tom’s nerve and it made his face heat up. The more he talked about her, the more upset he got about what was going on complied with the other things going on in his life. Tom clenched his jaw, not able to reply and his dad could see he was upset. Even though Tom was growing older and he was his own man, his father could always tell when something was wrong. As much as Tom didn’t think anyone could figure him out, his dad could read him like the back of his hand.

“Is something else going on? Other than me just showing up?” His dad tilted his head to try to look at Tom.

As Tom’s pride fought his ego, he didn’t want to feel like he was suddenly giving into his father now that he was sitting in front of him. The idea of talking to his dad made him upset and brought back cruel memories, but now that he was venting and talking about things he thought he would be angry about, this seemed like a better time than any other to explain what was really going on.

Tom picked at his nail, trying to find the first words to say to how he felt without it feeling like a corny, emotional sitcom moment.

His face heated up, “I… I sort of found out that I’m… not Summer’s biological father.” Tom pinned his lips, tears developing by the corners of his eyes saying it out loud.

Tom’s father was shocked, not showing it on his face, but he gulped, “Are you sure?”

“A hundred percent. I took a DNA test at the doctor’s and… it sort of just… Well, I trust it enough to take it one time. The girl who’s her mom took her away, probably just for the child support, but I can’t figure out what to do… It’s been a month without her and I can’t sleep anymore, Dad. I raised her and I never doubted she was my daughter until now.” Tom choked up, a dryness in his throat making it hard to take a deep breath. He ran his hand over the top of his hair, weaving his fingers through the fluffy brown curls and pushing it away from his forehead.

His dad took a few seconds to contain his thoughts, wanting to truly think before he spoke and knew how much Summer meant to Tom.

“And on top of that, this asshole threw a punch at me at the bar last week and that’s how I got this.” Tom gestured to his eye, “And now I’m trying to get a settlement, but I don’t think I can afford the lawyer, and… everything is falling apart.” Tom trailed, finally looking right into his dad’s eyes who’s were similar to his.

Tom lowered his head, trying to hold his tears back at the sudden release of everything on his mind.

“I know you raised that little girl so well and I’ve always admired you for that.” His dad started.

Tom ran his hands down his face, sniffling as the whites of his eyes turned a light red. He couldn’t look at him as his father started to talk, worrying it was going to be a backhanded compliment and it was the wrong decision to do this.

“But, it’s gonna be hard to get her back if she’s not yours… but, if you find out more about how the mother feels about Summer and the whole situation, I can get in contact with a good lawyer or steer you in the direction of one.” His dad offered, but Tom nodded his head in response.

“Dad, I can’t do that.”

“I’m your father and I’m not gonna leave you hanging like this… I know you love Summer and you raised her. I’m not gonna let you drown yourself in a settlement on top of that, okay?”

“I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of this-”

“You’re not, I know that! You’re a grown adult who’s just needing some help and that’s fine.” His dad emphasized, understanding how hard-headed his own son could be.

Tom nodded, “I want it to be a loan. I can pay you back for however long it takes.”

“No, no. Let me help you out… as your dad. I’m not a bank, I’m not… anyone else. I’m your father and I know that if you were taken away from like Summer was to you, I’d want everything to be as smooth as possible.” His dad explained, trying to show how much he truly cared about his son despite the cold, bitter tension between them for the past year and a half.

The two of them sat there with the noise of the people’s conversations around to fill the silence, but Tom came to his decision and he nodded, “Okay. It’s a deal.”

They didn’t even shake hands, let alone hug, but the thankfulness was implied. Tom’s dad grinned at his son, the one who was just a little kid he wishes he truly gave the world to instead of sitting here thinking he had a lot to make up for.

“Other than all of that, have things been good otherwise?” His dad asked, glancing up at him.

Tom chuckled, “Just this and not much else. It’s been pretty boring without Summer around. But, Y/N has made it better.”

“Is she a keeper?” His dad grinned.

“She’s more than that. She’s really great and I could… see her in my life forever.”

His dad smiled, “I remember when she broke her arm and you just went on and on about dropping her homework at her house. I had to… call the school and get the parent contact information and then you were all jittery and nervous in the car. Even gelled your hair that day.” He recalled, smiling at the memory.

Tom blushed, “I wasn’t that nervous.”

“She really is a sweet girl. I’m happy for you.” His dad appreciated him, nice to see a smile finally on his face.

“Thanks, Dad.” Tom’s smile curled up, patches on red painting his cheeks at the thought of you even if you were sitting a few feet away.

“Well, it looks busy here so, maybe we can reschedule for an actual dinner. One that I don’t have to tip you for.” His dad jokes as they both stand up from their seats.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Definitely.” Tom nodded, running his sweaty palms down the front of his pants.

“It was really nice to see you. Don’t be a stranger.” His dad stood in front of him, staring at the mature and put-together man his son had become in the blink of an eye. It was a bittersweet feeling that maybe their time apart was leading up to this moment.

“I won’t.” Tom grinned, leaning in and wrapping his one arm around his dad.

His dad linked his arm around him as well, his hand meeting Tom’s back and giving it a few rubs before they pulled apart.

“I’ll keep in touch with you about the lawyer.”

“Thanks again.” Tom nodded.

You glanced over your shoulder, watching them go their own ways and his dad gave a quick wave to you. When your eyes shifted to Tom, he had a glow on his face, wanting to hide his smile by sealing his lips. You couldn’t help but grin, swiveling the barstool around to face him and you reached out for his hand.

“How did it go?” You simply asked, placing your hand on top of your knee.

Tom nodded, “It was fine, we can talk about it more when I get home.”

“No, tell me now.” You giggled, not wanting to put a damper on his news.

He half-smiled, “Just know that everything is going in the right direction. My dad said he’d help me a little bit with the settlement stuff and that way I can focus on Summer and what we’re gonna do.”

You ran your thumb over the top of his hand, “I’m really proud of you, you know that?”

“It was nothing-”

“It was something.” You retorted with a sweet smile, giving a light squeeze to his hand, “C’mhere.”

You placed your hand on his cheek, pulling him in to press a soft kiss on his lips. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t easy, but he didn’t want to take pride in something that seemed silly after it had happened. Luckily, he had you to remind him that he was taking the steps he needed to get Summer back. It was the first time you could see the light inside him even if he didn’t want to show it. Just from the difference in his smile, there was that gleam of hope.

As you pulled away, you sealed your lips and grinned at him. Your nose scrunched up as you both giggled, suddenly overwhelmed by the happiness filling yours and Tom’s hearts. You brushed your nose against his, your foreheads pressing together before he gave you another light kiss.

“Okay, I gotta work. You should go home, get some rest.”

“Well, I kind of wanna stay. It’s nice here and you’re just someone cute to look at.” You tilted your head.

“Why don’t you order something, on me, relax for a while and I’ll try to get off work early. Maybe, we can pick up ice cream on the way home to celebrate.”

“Celebrate? Must have been really great news that I can’t wait to hear in detail.” You jeered and he planted a light kiss on your forehead before rounding behind the bar. He grabbed his rag, shoving it in his back pocket and you turned around toward him.

“What would you like to drink tonight, ma’am?” Tom said jokingly, placing a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of you.

Your lips to the side, “A rum and coke and make it dirty, Mr. Barkeep.”

He chuckled as he pulled a glass off the bottom shelf, beginning to make your drink in swift moves. He looked so natural behind the bar as he poured the bottles in intricate ways, finishing off the beverage with two cherries.

“Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled followed by a wink.

“Nothing I can say in public.” You teased before taking a sip of your drink.

Tom smirked at you before moving down the bar, tending to other customers with a natural smile on his lips. You tilted your head with your drink in your hand, almost in awe of him and how handsome he was.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The night was getting louder while the crowd was growing, some people passing by bumping your shoulder even though you were still sat at the bar. You saw a few friends and struck up conversations with them to catch up, not completely bored while Tom was working, but you were worried about him. You hoped that he wouldn’t oddly hurt himself, having to take him to the ER and give him a good “I told you so” talk on the way there.

As you worked on your second drink, your phone vibrated in your purse and the screen lit up. You furrowed your eyebrow at the unknown number but still decided to take it in case it was important. You asked your friend to save your seat as you took your purse, moving through the crowd to get outside. The rain was pouring still, but you stood underneath the awning of the bar as people ran under it, drying themselves off before entering.

“Hello? This is Y/N.”

“Y/N? It’s Summer.” She whimpered, her voice at a whisper.

She stole Maggie’s phone that she left on the charger in her room, sneaking it away and using the emergency numbers written on the tag of her backpack. Tom didn’t answer first, making her worried so she decided to call you and hoped to hear your voice she missed so much.

Your heart dropped, “Summer? Are you okay?”

“No, the lady is mean. She makes me go to bed early with no bedtime stories like Daddy said she would. She-she’s not fun and she leaves me with a strange lady next door.” She sniffled, curled up behind her bedroom door.

“Wh-What strange lady?”

“She’s old and mean too. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I wanna be with you and daddy.” Summer continued to cry at a low volume, muffling her whimpers to not let Maggie hear in the next door.

You felt your heart breaking, not sure what to say since she wasn’t your kid but, in a way, she was. You pinched your nose bridge and the heavy rain making it hard to have a clear mind.

“Um, um, have you talked to your dad? Are you safe?” You asked, frantic as her.

“N-no, Daddy didn’t answer. Please come pick me up. I hate it here.” She wept, her voice shakey as she begged.

You nodded, not able to take it anymore, “You wait there, we’re gonna come to get you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

The time was almost midnight, but a loud knock echoed against Maggie’s door. She groaned, getting herself out of bed and thinking it was a drunk at the wrong apartment or someone playing a prank. As she approached the door, Maggie put her hair into a bun to clear her vision when she approached the door in the dark. After flicking on the light switch for the warm light above her, she opened the door and saw Tom dripping wet.

“Tom?... It’s almost midnight. I told you not to come here again.”

Tom sighed, “Y/N got a call from Summer and she was upset.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe she took my phone. Jesus, what did you teach her? Because she’s been acting out in school, whenever I’m at work, I can’t take her anywhere!” She complained, her arm slapping against her side as the other held the door open.

“I didn’t teach her that. You’re the one who doesn’t know her and I know you’re not treating her right.”

“Oh, how do you know?”

“You leave her with some strange woman when you’re not here?”

“It’s my mother, Tom. I work, I have an actual job, okay? Not some side gig at a crappy bar where I can live on my tips.” She retorted, but it made Tom’s anger quickly grow.

Tom ran his hand through his wet hair, almost defeated by how defensive she was.

“Why are you doing this? She’s upset and she wants to see me.”

“Well, Summer is just a kid, she’ll get over it. Not getting her way is a part of life, Tom. God! You babied her so much that she just comes crying to you.” Maggie hissed at him, ready to slam the door in his face.

“She is a baby! She’s a kid, Maggie. She called Y/N because she can’t stand you. Do you think that’s good for her? Being here?” Tom yelled back, his jaw clenched and his face heating up.

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you saying what Y/N thinks is good for Summer like she’s her stepmother or something.”

“And where were you being mom of the year? Huh? Why do you have such a problem with her, Maggie? She’s the one who helped me throughout raising Summer, not you because you were never here!”

Maggie crossed her arms, her only defense since she didn’t have any words.

“Where were you when she took her first steps? Her first words? When she got her first A in kindergarten? Did you take her to the hospital when you thought she had a peanut allergy or when she fell ice skating? Who was there for her, Maggie?!” Tom persisted, his eyes filling with tears at how angry he felt.

Maggie couldn’t look Tom in the eyes because it was all true, she knew it this whole time, but hearing it out loud made her even feel a bit guilty.

“So, why do you suddenly want her now? Is it money? Or do you really want her to be in your life? I can arrange it any way you want if you really do what her back in your life, but I don’t think it’s fair that you just swoop up and take her away when she’s my kid too. A kid that I raised since you left her on my doorstep six years ago.”

Maggie chuckled out of spite, “You’d never get it.”

“Then tell me! Tell me so I understand. It’s just us right now. Y/N isn’t here and all I want is Summer back home so, what is the reason, Maggie?” Tom asked, his voice a bit more calm, but still frustrated that he hadn’t gotten a straight answer the entire time they had been standing there, “I know there’s a reason why you didn’t tell me all these years that she wasn’t mine. You know it and I know it… I just want you to be honest with me. Okay?” Tom retorted.

She sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. As she rubbed her hands down her face, her breath was shaky as the truth was trying to inch out of your mouth.

“I… Summer’s dad and I were dating and I told him about her and he was… upset. Like, he thought I was just a bad mom and he said he’d leave me if I didn’t just take care of her.” She huffed, shrugging at how stupid it sounded coming out.

Tom was baffled, but he let her explain herself without interrupting.

“H-He left to Vegas or San Diego or wherever. He left me again and now I just… I wanted to prove myself!” She whined, gritting her teeth as a tear trailed down her cheek, “But, she hates me and I don’t blame her, but I know I’m not a mom. I never… wanted a kid, okay? I just… I wanted him back.”

All Tom thought was that she was selfish. He could yell and scream all he wanted, taking Summer away from her in the next few seconds, but nevertheless, he controlled his breathing and tried to hear her out.

“Anything else?” He asked looking down at his feet, his arms crossed and feeling a chill from the AC.

Her eyes were teary, but she nodded, “Don’t hate me, please. Please.” She begged at a whisper.

“I don’t… Just, do the right thing now and let her come back home.” Tom sighed, his voice broken as well.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Your body felt on fire from how anxious you felt, your foot tapping against the floor of Tom’s car. You waited, thinking your heart was going to burst in your chest if you had to wait any longer. A few minutes went by, concentrating on the time on the radio, but the heavy rain made the car windows look like stained glass. You hated biting at your nails, but you couldn’t help it after hearing Summer’s scared voice.

You curled up in the passenger seat, pulling on the seatbelt. You couldn’t just sit there anymore and do nothing, but stare at the dashboard and listen to the rain hitting the windshield. Your eyes began to tear up, wiping them quickly with the sleeves of your shirt, but you turned your head when you heard the back door open.

Tom was soaked from head to toe by this point, but Summer was curled around him before he set her on the seats. She had her backpack on, her hair damp and she was in her matching pajamas. Rain dripped off her noise and she wiped her wet forehead with the back of her hand.

“You get buckled in, just buckle in, okay?” Tom told her, still standing in the rain as he gave her the buckle of the seatbelt.

She nodded, guiding it across her body and pushing it in the lock until she heard the click.

“There you go.” He nodded, shutting the door and walking around the front of the car.

You sealed your lips as tears ran down your cheeks, tasting how salty your tears were. When Tom sat down, practically throwing himself into the car, your eyes met and you smiled at him. There was a sense of relief back in your lives at this moment, possibly a perfect one. As you glanced over your shoulder, Summer’s head was against the door and her eyes were heavy, but you reached your hand back to meet hers, holding it so tight that you never could think to let go again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @sinisterspidey@itstaskeen @tomhollandsgirlfriend @bi-writes @infinite-imagination @honeyspidey @hollandcrush @sunsetholland @pparkersbitch @namoreno @calltothewild @spideyspeaches @veryholland @osterfieldshollandgirl @slutforsebstan @bi-lmg @sunshinepeterparkr @annathesillyfriend @madmadmilk @antigoneidk @hollandcreep @wierdflowerpower

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x female!reader #dad!tom #bartender!tom

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nanasparadise · 4 years ago

Note

Hiya! Can i have either (aged up) Narancia or Abbacchio [you choose!] and with prompt [28, 25, 24, 19, and/or16*] Thx so much luv <3 {*if you wanna really impress us all... us them all ;3}

Hiya love! Sorry for the wait, I’m still quite busy with school, but that should be over soon (hopefully). Please enjoy! <3

“Shadow” Yan! Abbacchio x gender-neutral reader

16. I will protect you from everything.

25. You shouldn’t have tested my limits.

28. You have no idea how much I have been holding myself back for you.

Summary: Abbacchio has been following around for a while. After a rather unfortunate incident, he finally gets closer to you.

TW: toxic relationship, homicide, slight gore, stalking, mentions of retching, angst, intoxication, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Word count: 4467

Beta-read by the lovely @dear-yandere

Abbacchio loved watching you from afar. The smile painted across your face gave him purpose, a meaning, in his quite miserable life. Even if it was directed towards your date.

The Italian mobster tried to tell himself he didn’t mind. The intimate chatter as the two of you leaned over the table, the staring into each other’s eyes, his hand brushing over your forearm, his lips dangerously close to yours- Abbacchio suddenly averted his gaze from the window he had been watching you. No, he did care. As much as he wanted to see you happy, he couldn’t help but feel jealousy rising up inside of him, infesting his mind like a parasite. “You have no right to be jealous, Leone,” he reprimanded himself, “they don’t even know your name.” This thought alone put the white-haired man into a state of sulking, making him wish he had a bottle of wine with him to dwell on and drink away the pain.

In the end, Abbacchio could only blame himself. After all, he chose to not approach you, seeing himself unworthy of your presence and affection. Besides, who could truly love him after what he’d done? What he still had been doing? Accepting briberies, being unable to protect his police partner, becoming the very thing he’d sworn he would save the city from, it all took a toll on the young man and his self-esteem. He couldn’t drag you down in his world of crime and bitterness, not wanting to tarnish the very happiness you radiated and he cherished so much.

But seeing you all flustered and bashful because of someone who wasn’t him made Abbacchio reconsider his initial avoidance. The mafioso couldn’t handle the scene unfolding in front of him anymore, resentment boiling inside him. Would it really satisfy him remaining your unknown shadow? On the other hand, could he be so selfish and worm his way into your life, risking your safety and maybe even your happiness? Yes, he loved to observe you from afar, but he would so much more prefer for you to see him, recognise him, touch him. Just like you did with your date. With all these bitter feelings still clinging onto him, Abbacchio turned around to leave this area of the city. But not before stopping by a store to buy a bottle or two of red wine…

Meanwhile, you were blissfully unaware of your shadow’s internal struggle. Instead, you enjoyed the mild evening breeze of Naples hitting gently your face as the sun was slowly setting, giggling like a love-struck teenager with your date while you exited the restaurant. The rendezvous you had spent with the man by your side had passed so fast, his funny stories and dashing charm having made you lose track of the time. The two of you chuckled some more at one of his jokes as you eventually bid farewell. Though before you truly could depart, you took heart and pressed a sweet goodbye kiss onto your date’s mouth. Pleasantly surprised by your action, he leaned into your touch. When you both eventually let go of each other, he offered you a sincere and dazzling smile. “Let’s do this again, alright?”

Despite his better judgment, Abbacchio couldn’t bring himself to walk immediately home after having bought the booze. Instead, he had finished three quarters of the first wine bottle while strolling through Naples. He could feel the slight fuzziness of his intoxication manifesting in his body and mind. Sluggishly, the Italian continued his walk, his steps weighing just as heavy as the thoughts occupying his head. After a while, without noticing, he had stopped in front of your flat. “Are you home by now, Y/N?”, he wondered quietly. He couldn’t see any lights turned on in your apartment (of course he knew where to locate your exact housing after having… observed you for a while), meaning you already slept or you hadn’t returned yet. You couldn’t have possibly gone back to this guy’s place, could you? Bile rose up his oesophagus and his face turned into a dark scowl as Abbacchio dwelled on that thought. His grip around the wine bottle tightened, threatening to break it into pieces. Though before that could happen, the mobster guided the bottle to his lips and let the tart crimson liquid travel down his throat in an attempt to drown his dark musing. How could he let this happen? How could you have already gone this far with that man? Why hadn’t he just reached out to you? If you were to end up with that guy, he wouldn’t be able to look at you again, not without thinking of himself as a failure. Abbacchio harshly squinted his eyes while downing the remaining wine, trying to chase his thoughts away. Maybe, if he was lucky enough, his hangover would be so big the next morning, he would have forgotten about this whole situation.

From a few metres distance, you carefully watched the tall man in front of your apartment complex clinging to his bottle. “Great,” you mumbled exasperatedly, “I definitely needed a drunkard now.” Not only did he seem to be intoxicated, but also potentially dangerous, as you could make out all the muscles under his tight and partially revealing outfit. “Deep breaths, Y/N,” you reminded yourself, attempting to stay calm, “you’re just going to pass him and then rush straight to your flat.” As you tried to make your plan reality, you felt the stare of the stranger glued onto your form. Nervously, you swallowed the gulp of saliva building in your mouth. You nearly reached the front door of the complex as you heard a voice utter your name. No one was around you, except for that man, so it must had been him. But how would he know your name? Deciding that your anxious mind just made that up, you fumbled for your keys. But again, you heard the same voice repeating your name. With a flabbergasted expression, you turned around to meet the stranger’s face. His sharp features were highlighted beautifully under the neon lights of the street you must admit, and his long white hair with a lavender hue almost appeared to glow. Only the bloodshot golden eyes indicated his current pitiful condition.

“Excuse me Sir, do we know each other?”, you eventually asked tentatively. Multiple emotions crossed over his face in a matter of seconds, as if he wasn’t sure he could reply to such a simple question. Little did you know about how hard it actually was for him.

“No,” the stranger managed to spit out an answer, “but we will soon enough.” Incredulous, you tightly knitted your eyebrows together.

“What do you mean?,” you countered, “And how do you- HEY!” Before you managed to say more, the man turned around to leave you on your own. Deciding it was best not following him, you just let him vanish into the darkness of a near alley. “What a creep,” you whispered to yourself, “I just hope he won’t come back.” At last, you entered the complex and made your way to your home, leaving this weird encounter a concern you had to face tomorrow.

Abbacchio couldn’t believe seeing you walk past him as he finally pulled the bottle away from his mouth, previously closed eyes now wide open and fixated on you. Having been so convinced that you were by now in your date’s bed, he didn’t trust his slightly drunk mind to not play tricks on him. But undoubtedly, it was you who tensely rushed to the front door of the building. It pained the gangster to see you stressed out because of his presence, but what else should you think about him? He was just a complete stranger to you and drunk on top of that, a potential threat. A sudden realisation dawned then on Abbacchio. If you weren’t with that guy now, it meant he still had a chance with you, right? He could still become a part of your life and make you forget about that pest’s existence, no? Then, you surely wouldn’t perceive him as a stranger. Maybe as an acquaintance, maybe as a friend, maybe – hopefully – even as a lover. The excitement of a possible future with you made the Italian instinctively whisper out your name, enjoying how it rolled off his tongue. Though he wasn’t the only one who had heard the sound of his voice as you stopped in your tracks for a moment and then proceeded to nervously look for your keys. Offended by your ignorance the man repeated your name, this time louder and with more force. Would you still ignore him? Was he doomed to be your quiet observer, a mere shadow? Not if he could change it. “There’s still a chance.” Finally, you were looking at him, a surprised expression scampering over your face as you truly saw him for the first time. With your lips slightly parted, you stared at his form, interest and wary dancing in your eyes. Did you think he looked attractive? Abbacchio internally smiled at that thought, his heartbeat increasing ever so slightly, hoping it to be true. When you eventually talked to him and asked, if you two knew each other, the Italian felt as if his brain completely stopped working. Of course you knew each other! Well, maybe not you, but he for sure knew you better than anyone else. Though he couldn’t exactly tell you this… “No,” the mobster opted to say instead, “but we will soon enough.” Abbacchio failed to realise that this too sounded creepy... Despite your questions, he promptly made his way into the narrow dark streets of Naples until he disappeared from your view.

And while wandering through these gloomy alleys, Abbacchio noticed the tears gently rolling down his cheeks. Why was he crying? After all, the two of you had finally met. “But under which conditions?”, he lamented. He was so eager to contact you again, to really connect with you. Would you give him that chance? Or would you only remember him as a drunk brute? His tears grew bigger as he continued pondering. “You have no idea how much I have been holding myself back for you, Y/N,” he whispered, voice cracking due to his intense emotions, “I’ve always contended myself with seeing you happy, but I can’t do it anymore. I just want to feel your warmth, want to know that I do deserve you, that I’m not scum…”

Eventually, Abbacchio managed to arrive home, feeling drained out of any energy to continue crying. Instead, he made his way to his bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes, and closed his eyes until sweet darkness surrounded him, welcoming the young man into a numbing sleep.

•

The next couple days, Abbacchio distanced himself from you. He knew better to pester you after your first encounter, so despite his obsessive need to see you, he left you alone for about two weeks. In the meantime, he made a plan as to how he could approach you again.

You went on with your life. Keeping up with work, entertaining yourself with your hobbies and above all, seeing your date more regularly with whom things worked out more than great. All things considered, you were truly happy, enjoying most moments in your life. The long-haired stranger with the wine bottles had been long forgotten, only an obscure memory in the back of your mind. Call it ignorance or naiveté, but you really wanted to believe he was just some confused drunkard who would leave you alone after having slept off his intoxication.

That was why it hit you double hard when you saw him this Saturday morning in front of your favourite bakery.

Undoubtedly, it was him. He wore the same attire and kept his hair in the same style. Only did he appear to be sober now, his golden eyes radiating in the soft Neapolitan sunlight. No trace of drunkenness was clouding his features this time. “Thank God”, you thought.

Upon noticing your form, Abbacchio slowly approached you. He’d been waiting for half an hour now, hoping you’d get your favourite pastries like you did most weekends, so that he could catch you. An uncharacteristic nervousness spread inside his stomach. He had seen you countless times, but never had he experienced such an intense uneasiness. There you were again, just a couple of steps away from him and yet completely out of his reach, as the wary expression on your face revealed. But the Italian would change your attitude, he was sure of it.

“It seems you remember me from last time”, Abbacchio eventually said, hoping to not come across as shady. He carefully scanned you: the way your eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief, your lips pressed into a thin line, your body slightly leaned away from him. Under different circumstances, he would have deemed your cautious behaviour as adorable, even praised it. But not when it involved him.

“Yes, I remember,” you replied, still wary about the stranger, “and I don’t know if that’s a good thing.” The man was now close to you, too close for your liking. You could see all the details in his face, such as the dark long eyelashes contrasting his light hair and the tint of purple in his irises. Hastily, you moved back a few steps from him.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” the man uttered upon perceiving your reaction, “and an apology as well.”

“I agree”, you answered, trying to not sound too brazen.

Abbacchio sighed deeply, gathering his thoughts. “Quite obviously, I was drunk and landed by your apartment complex by accident.” Well, that wasn’t too much of a lie. “I’ve seen you several times here in this bakery grabbing your pastries, that’s why I know you. During some conversations you had with the baker, I heard your name as well. I’ve never had the courage to approach you. I hope you can forgive my inappropriate behaviour.” The nervousness inside his guts only intensified. Would you believe his explanation? Or would you see right through the lie?

For a couple of moments, you just stood there, eyebrows still knitted together, and pondered on his words. “I don’t remember ever seeing you in the bakery”, you muttered, trying to think of an occasion where you saw the stranger before that incident. Abbacchio slightly gulped at hearing your answer.

“I tend to stick in the shadows,” he replied, wanting to save his cover-up, “I’m not that social, you see.” Oh God, would you really buy that? Did he now ruin his only chance with you?

“Hm,” you hummed absent-mindedly, still mulling over his dubious explanation. Would a guy like him not stick out like a sore thumb in the small bakery? Or had you never properly checked out your surroundings? As strange as his reasoning sounded, it was the only one you had. “To be honest with you, I don’t know if I should completely believe you”, you said. Before he could interject, you continued. “But I’m inclined to give you another chance. Under the conditions that you don’t behave creepily anymore and don’t show up randomly and drunk at my place.”

Abbacchio’s eyes widened at your words. You truly gave him another chance! This was finally his opportunity to be with you, proving his worthiness. “Of course”, he quickly answered, nodding slightly along his words.

“But, I just want to make clear that I’m currently seeing someone, just in case you expected more from me.” Those words coming from you did sour his mood a little and dropped him from his high. Of course you were still dating that guy, why wouldn’t you? But maybe, he could turn the tables, now that you gave him permission, even encouraged him, to enter in your life. So the mafioso swallowed his feelings of bitterness and tried to keep up with the politeness.

“I think I should introduce myself properly to you. My name is Leone Abbacchio and it’s nice to formally meet you.”

“Well, since we’re already here at the bakery, why don’t we have breakfast together?”

•

To your surprise, you became quite close with Abbacchio. The two of you had met numerous times and by now, you felt at ease around him. Under his harsh appearance and demeanour was actually a very caring and understanding man, who was always there for you. Though he kept some secrets from you, he never failed to let you confide in him, a steady presence during rough times. Your friends and date – who was now your partner – didn’t trust the Italian as much as you did. Every time you mentioned him in a conversation, they never ceased to point out his cryptic attitude and your weird encounter. Some of them even suggested he might be part of the mafia, but you always brushed these accusations off with a laugh. Just because he had one bad night the time you met and was a bit gloomy didn’t imply he was a mafioso! Plus, he had told you he used to be a police officer, surely he wouldn’t have turned into a criminal then, right? You couldn’t imagine him hurting, much less killing, someone when he acted so tender around you. Constantly checking up on you through calls when you couldn’t meet, buying your favourite food when you felt down, making sure you felt comfortable.

So the pain you felt when you had found out your loved ones were right about Abbacchio was intolerable.

It was a normal day, like most times. After work, you met with Abbacchio to catch up with him before going on a dinner date with your significant other. The pair consisting of you currently sat on a terrace of a bistro, sipping on a drink. You stared with interest at the people passing the narrow streets of Naples, a mosaic of faces and feelings. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Abbacchio gaze at you, an unusual soft expression marking his stoic face. Despite having repeated multiple times that you were happy with your current relationship, it seemed that the Italian’s promise to not pursue you didn’t always align with his true feelings. Uncomfortable, you cleared your throat before looking back at the man seated in front of you. Immediately, Abbacchio schooled his expression into one of impassivity again.

“So, you have anything planned this evening?”, Abbacchio inquired seemingly nonchalant.

“Actually yes,” you replied, your lips turning into a smile at the thought of seeing your partner, “we’re gonna go out for dinner. I can’t wait to meet him again, you know how his work kept him busy all week.”

“Oh yeah, must be great to hear him talking shit about me again”, your friend barked back, sarcasm dripping from his voice. You rolled your eyes at his snarky comment.

“I’d really appreciate if you two could behave like adults for once and leave this childish distrust behind. And no, he actually intends on telling me ‘big news’ and not bad-mouthing you.”

Abbacchio perked up his ears at your words? ‘Big news’? What was that bastard planning? “He can shove those news up his ass”, he thought gloomily. The young man had finally gained your full trust, he couldn’t let that guy ruin it. Even though you might not admit to yourself, Abbacchio knew you felt the same affection he harboured for you. He saw it in the way you radiated this warmth he had longed for so long when you two were together. Finally, he knew he had worth and a purpose aside his work at Passione, and it was to be with you. So, why would he let that little boyfriend of yours destroy that with his stupid news? He wasn’t going to propose to you, was he? Not that early in the relationship, right?

“What do you think he plans on telling you?”, the Italian asked you, genuine worry now coating his voice, though you remained oblivious to his concerns. You brooded for a moment over his question.

“Well,” you replied eventually, “I think he’s got a promotion at work and might suggest to me to move in with him soon. But I’m not sure though, that’s only a speculation.”

“And would you do that? Move in with him, I mean,” Abbacchio pressed on, nervousness spreading through his body.

“I think so? I guess it would be nice to live with him”, you answered truthfully. You looked away from your friend’s intense gaze, instead opting to stare at the people surrounding you again.

When you glanced back at Abbacchio, you didn’t expect his face to be adorned with such darkness. He was practically scowling at you, his usually shining golden eyes now oddly sombre. You gasped slightly at his reaction, his trusting atmosphere now completely gone.

But how couldn’t he react like that? Your confession felt like a hard slap in his face, more painful than any attack he had witnessed. You couldn’t move in with that man. He knew it would mean the end of all his plans. Once you’d live with him, you two would see each other less and less (especially since your lovely partner seemed to despise Abbacchio as much as he despised him) and eventually you’d break contact. The mafioso had been your quiet observer before and he couldn’t go back to that role, that was sure. So he needed to craft another plan, one where your significant other wasn’t an obstacle anymore…

“Leone?”, you hesitantly tried to break Abbacchio’s eerie silence. As if awoken from a state of trance, he snapped back into reality. The sight offered in front of him truly broke his heart: your eyes were wide, your lips slightly parted, short breaths escaping them. You were scared and he was the cause of it. Just like during your first encounter. Abruptly, Abbacchio stood up from his chair.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he murmured softly, “I just need to go now.” Throwing some money on the table and already distancing himself from you, he turned around one more time at your surprised form and managed to say while smiling through gritted teeth: “I hope you’re going to be happy living with him.” Of course he didn’t mean any single word.

•

You were patiently waiting for your boyfriend to pick you up. Meanwhile, Abbacchio’s behaviour from the afternoon still haunted you. Did you do something to anger him? No, you just told him your honest opinion. But still, he had been so enraged, as if you had done him wrong. Maybe he did feel even more towards you than had initially assumed and unintentionally hurt his feelings. But still, that wouldn’t justify him abandoning you like that since you had never lead him on. Sighing, you took a look at your watch again. Your partner still hadn’t arrived, even though he should have been there thirty minutes ago. Deciding that your patience had been sufficiently tested, you gave him a call. After the sixth ringing, he still hadn’t picked up. Slowly, anxiety made itself visible in your body as your phone began trembling in your hand. Your boyfriend was a punctual person, he wouldn’t show up this late without a good reason. And not notifying you? That also seemed very atypical for him. Suddenly, pictures of him being involved in a horrible motorbike accident flashed in front of your eyes, spurring your fear of an ominous evil taking hold of him. That was it. You were going to his place right now.

After twenty minutes, which had been dragged into painful length for you, you had finally arrived at your partner’s flat. Wanting to be polite, you first rang the bell. “Are you there?”, you called anxiously, “It’s me, Y/N!” When no one opened the door or answered you, you hastily fumbled for the spare key he gave you in case of an emergency. Practically yanking the door open, you rapidly entered the apartment. Though the unexpected sight in front of you made you quickly want to run away.

There he was, your boyfriend, laying on the floor, all covered in blood that had dripped from the big cut on the throat. The slightly brown discolouration of the liquid indicated that he had been dead for a while. Your hand found its way to your mouth, trying to repress your retching caused by smell of the decomposition process. Tears pricked in your eyes as you realised your partner was truly dead, murdered even. “Who could do such a horrible thing?”, you mumbled in shock.

As if the killer had heard you, he walked from your significant other’s door to the living room. Familiar long white hair and golden eyes appeared close to your form. Your eyes widened impossibly further as you immediately recognised the murderer. The suppressed sobs finally escaped your mouth, not being able to handle this nightmarish scene.

“I wondered how long it would take you to arrive”, Abbacchio said with his usual nonchalance.

“Why?”, you managed to croak in between your hiccups, “Why would you do that to him? To me?”

“You shouldn’t have tested my limits, Y/N”, he replied as he moved closer to you. You retreated more and more, scared of what he would do to you, until your back hit a wall. Trepidation overtook your senses as he now towered in front of you, your breath coming out shallow and your whole body trembling like a leaf. “I’ve tried to hold back, tried to let you see on your own that you should be with me instead. But the minute you told me you would move in with him if given the chance, I didn’t wanna take a risk anymore.” Suddenly, tears rolled from his eyes as well. With a mixture of disgust and despair, you kept staring at him, too scared to actually react. “You’re all I have left. You’re the only reason worth living for. I couldn’t let him take you away from me, I’m sorry.” A pair of arms encircled your middle, pulling you in an inescapable embrace, as Abbacchio continued crying into your shoulder, a train of endless ‘I’m sorry’s' following along. The hug, which you once had considered as reassuring and comforting, petrified you now, your skin seemingly burning from his touch. “I’m really sorry,” the man repeated for the millionth time, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll build a nice life for us, I’ll protect you from everything, just please don’t leave me.”

You continued standing there while looking at the rotting corpse of your partner. “You’ll protect me from everything, huh?”, you whispered so quietly, you doubted Abbacchio actually heard you under his sobs. “But who will protect me from you?”

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #yandere jjba #yandere x reader #yandere abbacchio #yandere abbacchio x reader #golden wind #yandere jojo #tw: yandere #tw: homicide #tw: slight gore #tw: blood #tw: corpse #tw: stalking #tw: retching #minors dni

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george-fabian-weasley · 4 years ago

Text

if we had 5 more minutes — f. w.

Summary: You thought you could save Fred from the rumbles of falling stones; you did your best, only to be in the rumbles with him instead.

Words: 2,160 words

Warnings ⚠ : ANGST, TW: Death, TW: Battle of Hogwarts, TW: war, TW: injuries, Fred died, you died, big Pain™, I strongly suggest tissues and a dozen of comfort chocolates, I cried so you will too, Basically An Emotional Rollercoaster, Read At Your Own Risk

Disclaimer: inspired by Billie Eilish's cover of The End of The World, so... ya'll know this is going to be a painful ride. Buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy. Reblogs and Comments are Highly Appreciated! <3 p/s: reading this with the song at the background really helps with the tear pouring effect ;)

Disclaimer 2.0: i know what yall are thinking... what tf is syaf doing, posting a fic when she’s in a hiatus she just posted yesterday? Also where is mad hatter chap 5 and epilogue? well, my brain likes to conjure up ideas at very inappropriate times (like rn) so bare with me and uh i’ve been really physically and mentally exhausted from work (retail is bathshit crazy) to write the mad hatter series so idk when will i update the two chapters but i’m working on it! thank you for being patient, and im sorry for causing you guys to wait for so long, ilysm don’t kill me <3

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The end of the world.

The Battle of Hogwarts looked like the end of the world. Curses and spells thrown left to right, different kinds of bodies found at each corner and crook, walls here and there crumbling as down as hope for freedom. And blood.

At that point of time, the pools of blood on the floor look the same; pureblood or not. Because they bleed the same anguish red.

You didn't need to see the apocalypse of the world anymore. Screw the end of Mother Earth; this battle in front of your eyes was more than enough — sadly — to be your end of the world.

“Hey,” You called, causing Fred to turn his head around to your direction, his lips etched up a smile before replying with another hey. You sat next to him, the place where George had sat before he got up and left to speak with Professor Lupin.

Evil is winning, and good is losing. But then again, what difference would it make; if good kills as many as evil? At the end of the world, there is no good and evil alone. There are desperation, madness, and hunger for power, lust for victory brought along with them.

So, at the end of the world, you chose to be side by side with your lover, Fred Weasley. The red-headed dork you’ve taught yourself to pour your love into had become the very source of your life. He is your elixir, he is your soul, heart, and happiness.

It was silent for a while, none of you had anything to say. Yet the silence was comforting, with only the presence of each other as calming as it is. “Y/N,” Fred suddenly turned his head to you, biting his lower lip in contemplation. “Hm?” “Can you just stay at the Burrow?”

You blinked, “What?” Fred sighed, “Can you just stay at the Burrow right now and not join the war? I- I don’t want you to join in-” “Fred-” “I-It’s dangerous and it’s literally a war a-and I don’t want you to get hurt I would- I would rather die than have you hurt-”

“Fred!” You raised your voice, your hand clasping onto his securely, an effort to calm his frenzied thoughts. He stopped rambling and stared at you with those doe eyes you adored so much, “You know I can’t do that.”

“We need everyone on board for this war. I am no exception- bloody hell, even your parents are joining in, Freddie!” You tried to explain slowly, and Fred closed his eyes in denial of defeat.

“I love you,” he suddenly blurted out. He noticed the slight fluster you had, your eyebrows were raised for a millisecond before they furrowed upon a realization, “Wait, why are you saying this now? I-“ “I love you, Y/N,” he repeated himself and you shook your head, realizing what he was doing, “Wait, hold on a minute, no-“

He was saying it in case anything happens.

“Y/N, I love you-” “Don’t you dare say it one more time like you’re not gonna make it, Fred Weasley, I swear to Merlin,” You cut him off, your jaw clenching at his absurdness. “… Aren’t you gonna say it back?” Fred asked, his voice was small.

“I-” You sighed, “No, I won’t because I don’t want to say it right now, given the circumstances,” You paused, your voice quieting down, “It felt like a goodbye when you say it like that.” “Then when will you say it? We’ve been dating for almost a year and you'd never say it before,” He said.

“Really? This is the time to argue about this?” You gave him a pointed look, but your expression softened as you understood the meaning behind his actions. “Look, Freddie, I- You know how I feel about us,” You sighed, looking down at your hands on your lap, “You know I’m not that expressive with my words but- but I’m trying and- okay, let’s make a deal,” Fred’s ears perked up the mention of a deal. "I'm listening," he drawled.

“I’ll say the words when the war is over,” Fred gave you a sour look that clearly said ‘really?’ and it caused you to huff a smile, “Once everything is over, and everything is okay again, I’ll say them as many times as you want me to, okay?” Fred leaned into your touch as you cupped his cheek with your hand, kissing his forehead.

“Even if I made you say it a thousand times?” He asked and you chuckled, your heart warming at his childlike question, “I’ll say it for an hour if you asked me to.”

It happened so fast.

One second you were fighting off the Death Eaters with Percy and Fred, and then the other, you find your body aching at the major pressure from the rocks and debris that used to be Hogwarts’ protective wall from the outside world.

It was dark, and it was dusty, but you were too unconscious to notice. That was until you felt your cheek being patted a few times. As you gained consciousness with a cough or two, you also gained the pending pain spreading all across your whole body. You couldn’t feel your legs, or safe to say your whole lower body part.

Memories of you a few moments ago trying to push Fred away from the rumbles but ended up facing the falling stones head-on with him instead began to flow back into your mind. How foolish could you be to act like a hero, as if you could sacrifice yourself for him to live.

“… Y-Y/N…”

You turned your head with a silent grunt, and your eyes fixate at the body beside you, a few feet away, Fred.

He had blood leaking from his nose and ears, probably from the impact, and his face was dusty with debris from the stones. As he looked at you, he threw you a smile; a weak, hiding the fact that he’s in immense pain kind of smile.

“F-fancy seeing you here,” he grunted with a wince, a smile nevertheless rested on his lips. “Fred…” you could only mutter his name, closing your eyes for a brief second at the growing pain on your thighs. The pressure from the rumbles had slowly increased, and you felt yourself losing consciousness again. Only to be brought back to open your eyes as Fred poked your cheeks a few more times, “Hey, hey, s-stay with me, love.”

“We’ll… We’ll be okay.”

You winced at the trickling sensation on your skin as you tried to move your fingers towards him, “It’s… It’s impossible, Fred…” You voiced out, your voice cracking up. You saw Fred’s lips quivered before he threw you another comforting smile, “Don’t… Don’t say that. We’ll make it… I-I know we will.”

“We… We will?”

Groaning from the injuries on his body as he tried to move closer to you, he nodded, “We will.”

You felt his fingers trying to reach for yours, and you handed him assistance as you hooked your fingers with his. His hand was cold, trembling. But it was Fred’s. And Fred’s hand is always warm.

“It’s… It’s so heavy,” You whimpered in pain, looking at Fred for comfort. All Fred wished to do at the moment was to be strong enough. Strong enough to push off these rumbles pressing onto his body. Strong enough to pull you out from the pain. All he wished for was for you to not be in pain anymore. But he knew he couldn’t do anything. The rumbles were too big, too heavy, and it would take a while for anyone to find them at the bottom of everything.

Fred breathed out heavily through his mouth, slowly finding it difficult to breathe through his nose anymore, trying his best to look strong for you, “Stay with me, love. S-stay with me. Five more minutes. F-five more minutes and they’ll- they’ll save us…”

“Fred…”

“Five more minutes, I promise…”

You saw the desperation in his eyes, trying his best to somehow keep you afloat until you two are saved. You heard muffles from the other side, Percy screaming for Fred and you. His screams were sad and painful to hear; you would’ve cried for him if it wasn’t for the constant high-pitched ringing in your ears.

“Fred, h-hold my hand. P-please,” You whispered, finding no more strength to say anything louder than a whisper. He instantly intertwined your fingers with his, stretching as far as he could to reach you; no matter how screeching the pain in his lower body was.

“Fred,” You called him again. He chuckled a bit, “You’re… you’re saying my name a lot of times right now, darling.” You huffed a smile, the corner of your lips twitched, “… I want to ask you something.”

“… Anything.”

Your eyes met his, even in the darkness, his eyes still managed to look so beautiful. So earthly beautiful. “… Are you happy, Freddie?”

There was something about the way you say it, Fred couldn’t get a touch of what it was but… it felt like a goodbye. As much as Fred hated to admit, he wasn’t holding on much longer either. He was bleeding heavily from everywhere, his wand was out of his reach, and his body was starting to numb. His vision began to blur by itself, hence he blinked his eyes repeatedly. Trying his best to see your features clearly, one last time, if the worst happens.

This is it, he thought. This is the end of my line.

Finding an urge to cry, but didn’t have enough strength to sob, Fred let out a tear or two onto the dusty surface he laid his head on, his eyes closing after the content stare of your beautiful— though bloody and dusty— face. How ironic, he’s slipping away first even though he was the one who said five more minutes.

If only you had five more minutes.

“W-with… With you? Heh, always… “ The whisper coming out from his mouth caused you to narrow your eyes at him. It felt strange, it felt wrong. Was he saying goodbye? Watching Fred close his eyes was alarming, so you gained all your strength to pat his hand a few times, “H-hey, Freddie… Five more minutes. Hang… Hang on for five more minutes, please.”

You squeezed his hand, and he naturally squeezed back, only this time it was weaker than usual. His grip on your hand started to soften, but you tightened yours desperately. The pain all over your body was partially forgotten, your only focus was on keeping Fred breathing and alive, as well as yourself.

“I’m… I’m trying, my love… but I’m sleepy… and tired…” he mumbled, his words became slurred by time. He was on the edge, you realized that. Upon the sad realization, you bit your tongue, trying your best to prepare for the worst. “L-look at me, darling,” Your voice quivered, feeling the sandy surface on your temple as you tried to force your eyes open, to properly look at him, “Look at me.”

You knew it. He was slipping away from your fingers, and you were slipping too. It didn’t matter anymore even if Percy bulldozed his way to you now, it was too late. Simply too late. And that’s none of his faults. It’s none of his and none of yours.

Some things are just meant to be.

You took your other hand and placed it onto his cold, dirty cheek. Caressing his cheekbone gently, you gave him a comforting smile, “Fred.”

He looked at you, a faint smile on his lips. He’s at the end, you acknowledged. You widen your smile to assure him, although the tears escaping your eyes say otherwise, “… You make me happy. You make me so so happy. And I… I love you.”

“I love you, Freddie.”

With a big smile, Fred widened his eyes weakly, letting out a sigh of content as he looked at you with gentle eyes,“… Now that wasn’t so hard, now was it?“

Gentle eyes that soon hollowed empty.

“Yeah,” the dam of your tears broke down, “Took me a long time...” You squeezed his now lifeless hand, trying to find comfort and warmth from him for the last time. You smiled at Fred, whilst tears rolling down your temple slowly as if mourning the passing of your lover for you. You inched closer to him, careful not to graze your injuries, and met your nose with his.

You caressed his cheek, finally feeling yourself lose consciousness. This is it, you thought, I won’t wake up ever again. “You said we’ll be okay,” You whispered weakly, huffing a content smile on your lips. Staring into his eyes that had held so much love and pure unadulterated affection for you all these years, now empty with no trace of life, had sent you into pain more powerful than the injuries present on and in your body.

“I guess we will be, after this.”

“… You spent your last five minutes with me, huh?” You felt yourself going in and out of consciousness, and your vision blurring continuously, “Aren’t you a sappy git,” the mere whisper escaped your mouth with a sigh. The warm smile never left your lips, and the only thing in your mind was how peaceful he looked as of that moment, and you wondered if you’ll ever be in that state of peace, with him.

“No- no- no!” someone was shouting. “No! Fred! no!” And Percy was shaking his brother, and Ron was kneeling beside them with his hand on Y/N’s head, and the pair of lovers stared at each other without seeing, the ghost of their last smile still etched upon their faces.

On our last few drags of air, we agree

I was, and you were

Happy

TAGLIST:

@multifandom-but @sirenswhispers @lilac-skies-xd @obsessedunicorn24 @foggyturtleknightangel @evewithluv @softlyqoos @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lilypad-55449 @fiantomartell @hopemalfoyweasley @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @bucketandpotato @klausdatprettyboi @adoregin @littlechillies @phuvioqhile @sweetnspicysimp @wand3ringr0s3 @harrypotter289 @emptyporsche @tallyovie @potters-heart @amourtentiaa @lunalovecroft @loveboyhalo @lupinsclassroom @breadqueen95 @iwritesiriusly @rcwenaclaw @sevsbitxh @freds-slut @acosmis-t @colorfulprofessornickelangel @vote4weasleys @anchoeritic @alluringshawn @cute-sidney @anna-banana-13 @lostaurorax @emrysts @rosietoesy @lilgeorgie78 @prismarts @an2402lths

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fredweasley #frederick gideon weasley

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Hemorrhage

Cult girl visits the doctor and deals with the reality of being pregnant.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: pregnancy, scary medical terminology, mention of alcoholism

The plan was simple, but could go wrong at any turn.

Step one: confirm with the gynecologist that you were, in fact, pregnant. While you were there, you made sure to get a new prescription for birth control.

"It's absolutely certain." The nurse midwife said, pulling off her plastic gloves. "You are, without a doubt, expecting."

"Thank you." You responded, lowering your head to obscure your face.

She sat down in her swivel chair and leaned forward with her elbows against her knees. Open, comforting body language. "Now we should discuss what's next. Have you taken some time to consider your options?"

You nodded. "I think I'm going to see the pregnancy through and put the baby up for adoption."

"I see." The nurse midwife stood up, looking concerned. "At the risk of being intrusive, may I ask for the reason why?"

You had forty-five million reasons, but none you could articulate. "I'd rather you not."

"Let me rephrase the question." She clutched her clipboard. "Is somebody coercing you into carrying out this pregnancy against your will?"

Does bribery count as coercion? You thought.

"No." You lied.

"It's just that pregnancy is a very invasive, life-altering process." She rationalized. "A woman at your stage of life shouldn't feel obligated to go through it unless she really wanted to."

Thinking on it for a minute, what she said made sense. By all accounts, you'd be the perfect candidate for an abortion. You were a damned doctoral candidate in the middle of your graduate program. But sometimes, money spoke louder than reason.

"I'm sure." You said, before you could change your mind.

"In that case," She scribbled something down on her paper. "We will be seeing a lot of each other over the next forty weeks."

"Forty weeks?" You repeated.

"You're only a few weeks along, so we'll schedule an appointment to check up on you early next month." She continued. "At that point, we can bring the father in to discuss any potential problems. But you're young and healthy, so this should be a fairly low-risk pregnancy."

"The father?" You said, almost making it sound like an objection.

She gave you a disarming smile. "I'm sorry, I should have asked. Is the father in your life?"

"Oh, yeah." You nodded, realizing what you accidentally implied. "It's my fiancée. We've been living together for, like, three years now. It's just that-"

She raised an eyebrow, urging you to finish your thought.

"He's also a doctor." You said. "A male one. Y'know how it can be annoying when another doctor is in the room, trying to mansplain everything to you?"

You stopped talking before you could dig yourself into a deeper hole.

Great work, [F/N]. You thought. Now your doctor thinks you're dating an anti-choice chauvinist asshole.

Her mouth turned into a smile, but her eyes asked if you needed help. You probably did, all things considered.

"That won't be a problem." She assured you. "Do you think I made it through medical school without learning how to handle sexist male doctors?"

"I guess not." You shrugged.

She cleared her throat. "Let's talk a bit about what to expect."

"Oh, yeah." You said, remembering where you were.

She pointed to your lower abdomen. "Your uterus is about the size of your fist. But as the baby grows, it will grow with it."

You made noises of agreement as you followed along.

"Right now, what you have inside you is an embryo." She explained. "At the end of twelve weeks, it will be a fetus. At that point, most of the major organs and muscle tissue will have developed-"

She dumped so much information that you couldn't even begin to process it all. You tried to keep bullet points in your head, but your brain kept fixating on the scary verbs like "stretch" and "rip".

"Is the third of February good for you?"

You snapped back to reality. "Huh? Oh, yeah."

"Great." She scribbled on her clipboard again. "I will see you then."

She shoved several handfuls of colorful printouts and infographics into your arms before seeing you out.

Before climbing into the car, you sent Hannibal a text.

[F/N]: Definitely, 100% pregnant.

You expected him to take his time, but your notification sound chimed before you could even start the engine.

Hannibal: That is to be expected. I'm rarely wrong about this sort of thing.

You rolled your eyes and fired off another message.

[F/N]: You did this to me and I'll never let you forget it.

Hannibal: I could live with that.

At home, you sat at your computer, trying to familiarize yourself with every unknown word the nurse midwife threw at you.

“Hey babe?” You called out.

“Yes, dear?” Hannibal cooed back.

“How do you spell ‘hemorrhage’?” You asked. “Is there an ‘ae’ or not?”

Hannibal stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a towel around his waist. “I think it’s spelled with an ‘ae’ outside of the United States. Why?”

He peered over your shoulder at the search results for ‘antepartum hemorrhage’. He wasn’t fazed in the slightest by the results, but could sense your discomfort. You clutched a stray pamphlet titled ‘First Trimester Dos and Don’ts’ in a tight grip.

“Are we having second thoughts, my love?” He asked, with no indication of whether this was a good or bad thing.

“I don’t know.” You sighed, closing the laptop in frustration. “I don’t know if I’m just emotionally numb or in complete denial, but all these scary medical disasters don’t scare me as much as having to give up wine for the next nine months.”

“And sushi, most organ meat, and charcuterie.” Hannibal added. “Also, anything too high in caffeine.”

You threw your head back and groaned. “Kill me.”

Hannibal smirked to himself. You turned on your swivel chair and glared up at him.

“Enjoying my misery?” You asked, folding your arms.

“Just admiring the fact that in the face of life-threatening medical emergencies,” He placed his hands on your shoulders. “Your biggest concern is not being able to partake in the culinary adventures to which you’ve grown accustomed.”

You turned back to your computer. “I’m sure, one way or another, we’re going to come across some fresh meat. I’ll just have to pair it with Sprite or something for the time being.”

“The infographic doesn’t say anything about properly-prepared human meat, does it?” He tilted his head.

You leaned back in your chair. “Nope.”

#hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal #hannibal x reader #hannibal x you #hannibal lecter x you #hannibal lecter x reader #cult girl #cult girl 2 #more cult girl

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jean-does-not-have-a-horseface · 4 years ago

Note

oooh may i request eren with a female s/o who doesn't put up with his bullshit? Like when he gets jealous n stuff

So I turned this into a break up fic because why not!? I live to hurt my own self while writing. I was listening to Noir By Sunmi while writing this hence the title.

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Tags: angst, breaking up, seriously angst, modern au

Warnings: mentions of jealousy, angst, seriously. Just angst.

Noir

There is a despicable attire masking the way you're looking at Eren. The feeling that's boiling in the depths of your chest as you're sitting across from him on your kitchen table is indescribable. It's mixture of anger and determination, merged with heavy specs of remorse, whether it is for yourself or him, you haven't decided yet.

Your reflection in the glass of the kitchen table is mocking you. In it you can see a few of the cupboards behind you, you can see your inox fridge that's decorated in numerous small polaroids and you can see your hair, being messy and tousled, just like it always is when you're staying indoors. But you- no, your face. Your face looks deformed and blank, lost in the aggravating aspects of an angered expression.

Setting your eyes to any where but Eren isnt a simple task. Rather, you find no interest in looking at the borders between the marble tiles of the floor. They were plain and annoying to look at, but if you could you'd pretend they could calm you down. Keeping your huff in though, you alternate your gaze onto the top of the counter, onto the tap of the sink. You squint, pretending to take a good notice of the forms that light reflects into the object.

"I just don't want other guys being too touchy with you." Eren groans.

"Aren't we over this?" You roll your eyes.

"Yes, just pointing out that you wouldn't like that either."

There he goes again and you can't help but immediately snap your orbs to his direction. You have lost count of how many times he has mentioned it in only the span of five hours. He mentioned in while taking a shower, he mentioned it while working out, be mentioned it while cooking yet you've chosen to ignore him. Yet you know that ignorance doesn't benefit anyone, ever.

And you shouldn't act as if you're surprised, especially since you haven't addressed this. This is Eren. This has always been Eren. Expressing your concerns to Eren about how you feel he should trust you more has never worked, why should it work now?

"Eren, I can trust you that you won't let anyone do that!? Don't you trust me?"

"Yes, but."

"But?"

"I don't trust what others want to do to you. And what if you give in? Did you just wake up one day and decided to just devote ourself to me specifially?"

Eren is bitterly jealous. There's this spite that's hiding the aqua lines of his eyes, this sour mood that he always carries around when he gets in it. This stops him from being able to eat even slightly to normal; his hands are nervous and sweaty, his fork is abandoned to the side of his plate, his thumbs tapping onto the flat sides of his plate as if he's waiting for a response. There's not even the hint of a crump going down his throat, more so there's not a single bite taken off of his sandwich.

"Eren no one was touchy with me. Jean, Reiner, Armin, Marco... these are literally our friends since school!" You speak, munching onto your own food.

"I know."

"Then? Want to talk about it?"

You hate the way you make it sound like it's okay to casually be tender to him when he's judging you but you've been munching onto that bite of your cold noodles for a long time now. Your throat is refusing to take down bites anymore in result of you having stuffed your mouth to the full. It's an effort to shush yourself, to silence that voice that begs to come out and speak words you might regret.

"It's just." Eren pauses.

And you wait for his words to come out. By tapping your own hand onto the the glass of the table, you fixate your gaze onto Eren's uncomfortable form. You watch as his face gets buried to the palms of his hands, you watch as he refuses to face you while he clicks his tongue. His foot is rapidly tapping onto the floor, his hair is being pulled back by his fingers. The loud exhales he takes are indicators to the heavy weight that's sitting on his chest.

"It's so hard for me because I imagine you being with others, I don't want anyone to get their hands on something that's mine. And it's driving me crazy (y/n)."

Out of spite you push your eyes to the side. Facing Eren isn't something you feel like you're free to do at the moment. It's horrendous that you have to answer to that. Your heart is alternating between hammering inside your chest and dropping to your stomach. Your mind is confused as to what you should begin to think, or say. This is Eren, you keep repeating to your self, your spongy brain though is refusing to believe it.

It makes you wonder; Is this a time to be kind or is the last straw?

"Eren this is destroying you isn't it?"

Eren nods and then hides inside the neck of his hoodie, he pulls his sleeves over his palms and brings his elbows to the top of the table, setting them down as he leaned his face into his now clenched fists. You take it upon you to swallow that amount of food that's in your mouth up until now and when you do it goes down your throat dryly, painfully even. Your eyes are somewhat stinging, tiny little droplets are already starting to form in their corners.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"It's destroying me too. Your jealousy."

Your chest rises and falls, your eye brows furrowing paid fully over your eyes as you look down. You can feel the gaze that's fixated on you; Eren is burning holes through your form with his piercing gaze, even if you can't see it it's a fact that you can't help but ignore. You heart the clenching of your teeth as your jaw locks onto place, trying to salvage every aspect of what can be saved between you and Eren.

"Then what did you suggest we do?" Eren quarries with a soft voice, his arm reaching out to wiggle underneath the grip you have of your face and hair.

"I-"

Maybe you can try. Couples try and fight for each other. And then things are supposed to get better. When you're down he's supposed to help you reach the top and you're supposed to do that too. It just doesn't feel like that with Eren anymore. You feel like Eren is holding you back, you feel like he's digging and delving into the past in such way that present doesn't matter to him anymore. You hate to think that it's not healthy to stay with each other anymore. If you weren't so exhausted by this being your new reality, you would be willing to try.

Your hands move reluctantly from their grip on your head, your thumbs shivering as you moved then down and along Eren's cubits. You trace imaginary lines over his slightly olive skin. Your fingers, shaking as much as your thumb work into taking his hands on yours, as you're pressing your palms onto his knuckles slightly.

"Maybe we should take a break from each other."

Your lips feel lighter than air as you mouth the words, still you're more concerned about how Eren is taking the sentence up. It's not easy to digest; you moved your eyes onto his form and suddenly they're stuck there, that pained expression is suppressing your lips in a puckered state, harsh lines spreading all over the volume of your lips.

"I didn't say this for you to tell me that."

Eren throws his hands in a orbit that's years of light away from yours. He's not touching you anymore, and you lose every ounce of affection in your body. The stinging tears that had threatened to fall are starting to vanish, hiding inside the sponge tissue of the corners of your eyes. A shiver runs through you as you watch Eren's nervous foot stop it's rhythm.

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I've talked about this with you so many times. And I'm just not feeling like I can do this anymore. I wish I could fight about us even more, but I can't be the only one fighting. I feel horrible for saying this but Eren, saying this sentence felt liberating for me. I feel free."

"There's no need to explain yourself. It's fine. Fine. I made you feel this way and yeah." Eren bit his lip as he spoke.

"I didn't think we'd end like this."

"Me neither." He snarls.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be." His nose scrunches as he sniffles.

His eyes trace the uneaten sandwich in his plate, then they followed a forbidden path to you. But before he meets your eyes, he snaps his gaze back to what he was originally eyeing to distract himself. He wants to lash out, he wants to shout, but for what he doesn't know. It is rather odd to just sprout nonsense to someone who doesn't want to be standing across from him just because his devotions belonged to them up until second day ago.

Thus he bites on the inside of his cheek, pointy teeth digging into the soft flesh with fury, opening holes that he knows will be a pain in the ass before they heal again.

Without him, you'll be free. The phrase is a loop that's repeating into his head like a snap to reality.

Eren watchea as you bite your top lip and push your chair backwards, prompting your self up and away from the table, with your lips pushed into a thin line. He can see that it feels like a walk of shame, from your point in the kitchen to the sink, the way that your feet sound when clashing with the tiles of the floor indicate your need to not disturb him further. As if you're pitying him.

Eren grows to hate the way your pity presents it self. As if he is sick. But you are right.

"I'll go to sleep to Sasha's tonight and I'll come get my stuff tomorrow." You announced, without ever turning to look at him.

If he can work on himself he can try to get you back, he thinks and sighs. Nontheless he refuses to reply; he hasn't been given a right to reply to such statement. He can only let you go, and try not to be swallowed by the suffocating thought of you moving on without him.

At least now you can be free of that.

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 @puredivinity @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @lzrers

#eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager #snk eren #eren jaeger #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #aot x reader #snk season 4 #aot season 4

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wowsoboring · 4 years ago

Text

Deconstructing baseless Harry Potter arguments #1: Harmony Edition

There’s a very helpful account on instagram (this instagram page merely gathers toxic harmony shippers, they don’t ship Harmione or hate all Harmione shippers, please don’t send them hate, show them love and support) where you can essentially find stupid fucking bashers who make baseless arguments. I’m all for Harmione shippers, as long as they don’t denounce Romione, bash Ron and just peacefully co-exist. To my pleasure, such people are out there: they just dont seem to be seen as often as the ones that are not nice. Maybe all I see is the mean people and the majority is nice, but in this post, I am attacking those who make baseless claims and bash Ron/Romione/Hinny/Ginny. I don’t myself hate all Harmione shippers. On top of that, as a Romione/Ron fan, i do acknowledge Ron’s character flaws along with Hermione’s and I hold them on the same pedestal.

This is copied directly from my own instagram page, granger.weasley_ on ig.

Anyways let's get deconstructing

rebuttal:

Yeah okay mf; maybe don’t compare real-life relationships with fucking fictional ones. Your relationship going wrong has nothing to do with Ron/Hermione. It has everything to do with you and your ex: the *real life* people involved in it.

rebuttal:

The weird subreddits and discord servers also seem to have a lot of die-hard Harmione “non-canon” shippers. They bash Ron and Romione (along with Ginny and Hinny) with a burning passion without any objective sense of remorse. They ignore all the merits of Ron’s character and bash him to push their agenda. They can’t even do so much as fucking acknowledge any of Hermione’s character flaws but still somehow manage to fixate on that one time when 11 year old Ron just shit-talked one line while Hermione had just publicly humiliated him in front of the Charms class and practically shouted at him for doing the spell wrong just before. I personally don’t because Hermione was 11 too and wasn’t that good at social cues that early on, which is more than okay. Neither am I.

Only a few people in the Romione fandom bash Hermione. And it’s not like Harmione shippers (most, not all!) don’t bash Ron and Ginny remorselessly, right? The fucking hypocrisy.

If someone considers Ron as the best member of the trio, it is their own opinion and not a fact. I do that. If you consider Harry and Hermione as the best member of the trio or in the whole wizarding world, most people don’t give a flying fuck and probably won’t argue with you because it is simply an opinion. That will only happen when you pass that off as a fact.

Statistically speaking, most (not FUCKING all) Harmione moments are in the movies. The weird dance scene especially. The passionate kiss that happens in Ron’s vision, shit like that. Ron is pushed to the sidelines in the last set of movies while Harry and Hermione show each other endless love and support. “I’ll go with you”. The books on the other hand, describe Harry and Hermione as siblings multiple times, with very little Harmione references.

rebuttal:

So you don't want us to fixate on the large majority of Harmione shippers who do the exact same thing, just kissing Hermione's and Harry's ass and hating on Ron. However you will fixate on people who are most likely not EVEN bashing or hating but pointing out a few character flaws in Hermione in a fair and unbiased way. I would know, I'm a huge fan of Hermione as an individual character (in the books). The only criticism I've seen of Hermione to this day has not been bashing. In the comment section of my own fics (shameless plug) I've seen some Hermione bashing. On an ao3 comment section. And I've seen so damn fucking many people bashing Ron, Ginny, the Weasleys etc. and garner tens and thousands of upvotes on quora.

What does Ron even need excusing for? The running away incident and Krum. What does Hermione need excusing for? Canaries, contributing to Ron's insecurities by making him jealous through Cormac and Krum even though she didn't even like them (especially not Cormac, she fucking hated him). Ron wore a locket that literally highlighted his fatal flaw (insecurity) in an echo chamber. Harry kept getting annoyed when Ron wanted to check in on his family. Harry asked Ron to leave; Ron didn't say that shit in the books about Harry's parents being dead: that was plain shock value.

And sorry for repeating myself but I have seen quite a few Harmione shippers bash Ron and Ginny and excuse every single thing Harry and Hermione have done.

37 upvotes on this weird comment that makes no sense? Echo chamber alert! You know what us Romione/Ron fans all have in common? We have never experienced such an echo chamber. I made a pro Ron/Romione post on reddit and got a considerable amount of people who bashed Ron and Romione in the comments.

The amount of Hermione haters is very few compared to Ron bashers. Nobody hates Hermione for being independent, determined, etc. We dislike perfect movie Hermione who’s an unrealistic image of females and seems like some sort of agenda than a real woman. Most Romione shippers/Ron fans and book fans in general (except for you apparently) dislike movie Hermione and still are fans of realistic book Hermione. Most, not all. In general, we do not claim anyone who does the exact same thing to Harry and Hermione that these sorts of Harmione shippers do to Ron, Romione, Hinny and Ginny. I say this on the behalf of all Romione shippers and Ron fans.

Ron's not a bitchy lay-about drama causing loser. That's Steve Kloves's movie Ron. In the books Ron is realistic and simplistic and apologizes whenever he causes problems. He acts up substantially twice in a span of 7 years where he is also a hormone-fuelled teenager.

This is so contradictory and juxtaposed to the point of near delusion. First you talk about how Romione shippers bash Hermione and then you bash Ron as a Harmione shipper. Mate, fighting fire with fire will get you called a hypocrite. Fix yourself.

So the movies are fine when they work according to your agenda? And yes how dare he add such a (fake) chemistry fuelled moment between Harry and Hermione while defeating the entire purpose and groundwork for Romione, the sadness caused by Ron leaving and so many more things? Those Harmione moments you mention seem friendship -esque more than anything else.

Steve Kloves's moments ruined many things while just paying fan service to the Harmione fans he'd birthed through years in the course of 6 movies where he showed Ron as a, how you so eloquently describe it, lay - about drama causing bitchy loser, Harry as one dimensional and Hermione as a zero - dimensional Mary Sue who might as well be the main titular character. Obviously Harmione fans such as yourself don't see the problem with it as it fits your narrative

We do care about Harry and Hermione at large. Most Romione shippers rightfully bash Draco, Pansy, etc. not particularly Harry and Hermione, that's quite rare. Harry and Hermione can get along without Ron as friends. Ron and Harry can also get along without. Hermione as friend. So can Hermione and Ron without Harry as friends or more. I don't understand your point and how what you said is any different than Romione or Ronarry’s friendship.

Constant arguing is not what they do. They bicker, they apologize, and sometimes they just do it for the heck of it. They are argumentative teenager. Opposites attract doesn't work in the sense of fire and ice, it works in the case of Brownie and ice-cream. Ron is passionate, laid back and insecure. Hermione's passionate, a workaholic and not as insecure. Ron can help her get calm and composed and get her to give herself a break. Hermione can motivate Ron and re - enforce his confidence.

It wouldn't be step incest. Harry and Ginny do not regard each other as siblings. They do not look similar whatsoever. And a Harmione shipper also bashes Hinny and Ginny along with Ron and Romione? Checks out

" that fucked up Harmony" hahaha. What?

Are you literally going to date someone on the basis of what Harry Potter ships they prefer? That is so shallow end depraved. Your Harry Potter ship preferences should not be the groundwork for your dating life. Please understand that. Harry Potter is a fictional world which is not real. Hogwarts doesn't exist. Magic doesn't exist. I sound like a Dursley but that's what it is: a fictional realm with fictional character. I would personally not give a fuck if my best friend or significant other was a Harmione shipper. In the case of them being a Ron basher, I would ignore it as if it was just a minor inconvenience and something we wouldn't be discussing and that's how it should be with you. Fuck BuzzFeed, your opinion on what Harry Potter ship / character is your favorite says squat about your personality and relationship with others in a romantic or platonic context. But who cares? Live your life however you want. I'll be stoic.

It's not opposites attract rubbish or high school opposites attract. Ron and Hermione aren't polar opposites like I said, they are a bit different but similar too in many ways. They have a lot more in common than Harry and Hermione. Ron and Harry have the most in common. Both Ron and Hermione are passionate, loving, argumentative, caring, etc. Your argument lacks substance. It's biased trash. And what does “obhwf " mean?

---------------------------------

at the end of the day, i’m just an annoyed teenager. I try my best to be open-minded to people but only as long as they are too. I tried to use my brain more than my feelings for this post.

126 notes · View notes

celestialmark · 5 years ago

Text

Ethereal - Jeong Jaehyun

Jaehyun was indeed way more than his good looks. Jaehyun was gentle, honest and sincere, you felt it all in the way he smiled, the way he talked and in the way he kissed you. He was the living definition of ethereal, and his beauty shone the most on the inside.

Characters: Jeong Jaehyun x reader

Category: fluff, au, life lessons

Word count: 16.7k

Warnings: drinking (but nothing too major), emotions, a lot of it.

Writer’s notes: it’s been a hooooooot minute and this is a lot of words. how have you all been? ;; skdjsjskd this was written in 2 weeks that consisted of a lot of urges to pull my hair out and constantly squeezing my brains for words and words and words. but nonetheless, I had so so much fun writing this, I enjoyed it thoroughly and I wish I had a Jaehyun in my life skdjlksjd hope you enjoy this you guys! <3 stay safe, keep healthy! lots and lots and lots of love to all of you as always x

Winter one.

There’s an indescribable feeling settling on Jaehyun’s chest when he leisurely looks down at the view below him from where he stands by the ledge of the Fisherman’s Bastion. He’s smiling contently to himself, dimples appearing but remaining hidden by the stretch of his turtleneck that shields him from the cold winter air. The sight before him, he thinks, was definitely one to die for, the Danube river stretching from one side to another, the mighty bridge allowing vehicles to pass in and out, the Parliament building sitting tall and proud on the other side of the river, all with a touch of snow from last night’s downpour which makes the scenery all the more breathtaking. Though the tips of his fingers are freezing, the negative temperatures making them stiff and red, Jaehyun feels warm on the inside, a familiar feeling that courses through his body whenever he got to see places like this.

Jaehyun tightens his grip around the camera he’s holding, with the straps hung loosely around his neck and raises it to capture the view. He trains his eyes on the LED screen, half clicking the button until the viewer appears, automatically adjusting the lens so that it focuses on the right places and presses down on the button completely, the screen turning pitch black momentarily until his photo reappears on the screen. When he’s satisfied after studying it for a few seconds, he repeats the process, changing angles every single time to make sure he remembers all he’s seen, forever.

He turns slightly to his right, curious to see how far the river stretches and how much his camera could capture when he spots a person who appears to be struggling to take a photo of herself from the way she’s awkwardly holding her camera up in the air, lowering it one second and then raising it again, obviously unsure if she’s captured in the frame or not. Jaehyun unknowingly smiles behind his camera, silently watching the girl continue her attempts, feeling apologetic for finding amusement in her struggles. He snaps a quick photo of her before finally letting go of his camera and letting it rest above his abdomen.

“Would you like me to take a picture of you?” He asks as he walks closer to the stranger.

You snap your head to your right and you see a guy, a fellow tourist you assume, approaching you with a smile grazing his lips, gesturing to your camera that’s been making your arm ache for the past few minutes. You mentally deadpan at yourself because this person has definitely seen you sturggle for who knows how long and maybe even seen you smile uncomfortably at the camera. And though he’s smiling at you, the upward twitch of his lips never dissipating even when he’s right in front of you, you subtly narrow your eyes at him, skeptical. Traveling alone meant that you had to look out for yourself and though this guy might not look like a snatcher that’s out for your camera, you just couldn’t be too sure, after all, this was usually how people get robbed right before their own eyes from being too careless and trusting.

He breaks the train of your inner debate when he chuckles, retracting his outstretched hand to his side when he sees you eye him from head to toe. “I promise I'm not going to steal your camera.” He lifts his own camera, strapped around his neck, “I’ve got my own.”

You tear your eyes off of him immediately and slap yourself mentally. How many times could you possibly embarrass yourself in front of this stranger in a span of three minutes? Your mind goes into haywire then, feeling the need to explain yourself, “No– that’s not what I meant,” you blubber, the desire to change his first impression of you burning within you, not really knowing why considering you might never even see him again. “I was just, actually–”

“My offer still stands,” he interrupts, smile returning, eyes doing the same and dimples you hadn’t noticed from earlier, appearing.

You hang your head low, hoping the cold weather is enough to mask the tint of red that’s spreading across your cheeks as you take a step forward to finally hand him your camera. “Sorry,” you mumble more to yourself.

He’s studying the features of your camera as soon as he receives it, “Don’t mention it,” he reassures. It takes him no less than ten seconds to finally get grips with your camera settings and as he does so, you’re shifting in your spot, trying to think of poses for the picture. You start to feel conscious about yourself then, the stranger’s eyes fixated on the screen and inevitably on you. The thought makes you move too much in one place in futile attempts of giving him a good photo to take.

He cocks his head to the side, looking directly at you now, “Comfortably. Pose comfortably, whatever you want. It’s your photo.”

His velvety voice takes you off edge and sure enough, you relax after his instructions. You don’t do anything extraordinary as you manage to stay still in one spot lifting your lips upwards into a small smile, your eyes directing themselves to the lens. You hear the click of the shutter then and just when you think it’s finally over, it’s the stranger’s turn to shift in his spot slightly, the camera still lined within his vision.

“Another one,” he insists, adjusting the camera so that you’re in the centre of the viewer. “The view is really nice. Might as well take a few more.”

You don’t protest because it seems like this man knows what he’s doing and he’s already snapping away even when you’re not ready and you try not to get flustered in the process of finding the right poses. But it didn’t even matter anymore because he’s clicking away photo after photo without even so much of an instruction from him nor waiting for you to move in your spot. You watch him blankly as he continues to shuffle in his place, changing all the angles in all ways he feels needs be. When he’s done, you’re still dazed and it’s only when he hands your camera back to you that you finally blink.

“The photos came out great,” he smiles warmly.

They did? You’re not too convinced seeing you didn’t even move a muscle.

“Thanks.” You glance to your left and your right and just as suspected, he was by himself too. “Do you want a picture here too?”

He contemplates for a second, already knowing he doesn’t need anymore pictures here, convinced he has enough saved from earlier. But you’re smiling at him gently and a couple pictures more won’t hurt. “Sure.”

So you switch places, the stranger now standing by the ledge, you taking his previous spot a mere metre away from him. You don’t need to give him any cues because looking at him through the screen of his camera, he didn’t need to pose, him just standing there was already a photo worthy moment. You snap multiple pictures of him, each one seeming to come out better than the last and you wonder how that was even possible because this man really wasn’t doing much. You reason maybe he just really knows his angles well. Nonetheless, this man was for sure captivating, with his tall stature clad in a light brown trench coat with a fluffy turtleneck in darker shade of brown laid underneath, black slacks and a pair of impossibly white converse. Maybe he’s a model? Well, he could definitely pass as one, his big eyes that radiate warmth, smooth features in every aspect of his face topped with his dimples.

He looked breathtaking.

And you have to force yourself to take your eyes off of him when you return his camera, forgetting completely about the fact that you hadn’t just snapped what seemed like a million photos of him.

“Thanks,” he breathes, turning the camera off without inspecting your photos.

You nod, “you’re not gonna check them? I’m not sure I did a good job– I can take more if you want.”

He smiles with a shake of his head, “No, that’s okay. You didn’t check yours either. I’m sure the photos came out great.”

You chuckle, “You shouldn’t be, not with my photography skills anyway.”

He chuckles this time and your eyes land back on his dimples, “All that matters is that I have a souvenir of this place.”

“Me too.”

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Mhm. You?”

“Yeah,” he exhales a breath, the winter temperatures making it possible for his breath to become visible, the smoke-like condensation seeping through his lips. He lets his eyes wander to the view before him once again, “It’s the exact same as I last saw it. Nothing’s changed.”

Intrigued, you carry on with the conversation, “You’ve been here before?”

You see him nod from the corner of your eyes, following where his eyes are focused. “Yeah, I was here last year. And the year before that. And the year before.”

You nod slowly, unknowingly becoming more and more invested in the subject with the stranger. “Are your family here?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he then turns to you with a small, but breathtaking smile. “Just, I just really like it here. I find myself coming back every time.”

You blink just as you clear your throat, your pulse unconsciously speeding up with the eye contact that had just occurred. Silence fills the air and you’re almost sure the mood had just transcended into an awkward one after being flustered, so, in attempts of lifting the mood, you suggest something you don’t give much thought to.

“Well then maybe you could tour me around.”

And you deadpan at yourself as soon as the last word is uttered, your eyes widening at how bold you’ve gotten, not to mention, in front of someone you had just met for the first time out of nowhere.

You hear him chuckle beside you and that’s when you feel his whole body turn towards you. You wearily follow suit, greeted by one of his hand extended to you, “Gladly.” His smile broadens, something to let you know he isn’t kidding.

“I’m Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun. A nice name for a man with impeccable visuals.

His hand is warm in contrast to your cold one when you accept his handshake.

“Y/n. I’m y/n.”

Winter two.

When you look over the same view you saw for the first time the past year, you realise that nothing much has changed. The river still stretches on, the bridge still standing tall and buildings on the other end of the river rising upwards in same way you remember them to. It was still as beautiful as ever despite the winter weather nipping at your skin. Jaehyun’s words ring in your head then, that not matter how many times he’s visited this exact same place, everything is still as he recalls. You smile to yourself at the memory of him, recalling the wasted opportunity of him touring you around (despite it being a casual joke on your end but one he’d taken seriously) due to conflicting schedules and flights. It’s a pity you think, because he looked genuinely keen on showing you to some of his favourite places. Though he did leave you a list of places to see, you never got to see any of them with him, the terrible reminder of your impending flight the next day disrupting the chances of what could have been.

You inhale the winter air, the coolness transcending through your insides, closing your eyes in the process to relish in the beauty and tranquility of it all despite the many other tourists roaming the area, mentally thanking yourself for having come here again. Budapest was and is still beautiful, a certain beauty to it you were quite unable to pinpoint as of now.

“Beautiful, huh?”

You swear you remember that voice anywhere, even when you’ve only heard it once. Your eyes snap open and true enough, you find the same companion you shared this view with a year ago, smiling at the view before him, his dimple peeking through his cheek. Your head almost spins from having craned it too fast to see who the owner of the voice was and you notice the subtle drop of your heart when your assumptions prove to be right. He finally turns to you, that same blinding smile you remember adorning his gentle features, his brown soft locks falling just above his eyes.

“Y/n,” he breathes, the name rolling off his tongue in a pleasant way, as if he’d been dying to say it for far too long.

Your throat runs dry and you’re trying to convince it’s because of how taken aback you are. “J-Jaehyun.”

You see his shoulders slump, the smile briefly leaving his lips before emerging again, this time a tad bigger, exhaling a rather big breath. “You remember.”

You nod, trying to stop the rapid blinking of your eyes, “And, so, so do you.”

He nods too, tugging his winter coat closer to his body. “What a coincidence,” he says, tearing his eyes off you to marvel at the river again. “A very pleasant coincidence.”

You fall silent, not really knowing what to say, your mind struggling to come up with a decent response to hopefully mask your flustered nature. But when nothing comes to mind, you follow his gaze forward, thinking that maybe if you looked somewhere else other than his face, your sanity will come back.

“I still haven’t forgotten about that tour,” Jaehyun pipes up, voice clear yet soft. “The offer still stands,” he adds and then turns to you again, making you look at him. “That’s if, you’re not going to bail on me tomorrow.”

His words make you chuckle, his down to earth nature naturally easing you. “For the record, I wasn’t purposely bailing on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He challenges. You nod. “Coincidentally then?”

You smile a teasing one with a shrug of your shoulders. “Maybe.”

Your answer makes Jaehyun laugh and it gets caught in the wind that blows past, but not before it reaches your ears, pride settling in your chest for having made him do so. “Well then can I try again tomorrow? The pictures you took the last time came out really great, I want to make it up to you.”

“Jaehyun there were mere pictures. It’s okay, you don’t have to,” you defend, even though your mind says the exact opposite, because in fact, you did want to see those places he had mentioned, and you most definitely wanted to visit them with him.

It’s Jaehyun’s turn to shrug his shoulders, a small smile grazing his lips as his eyes grow a little smaller with the gesture. “I want to. And besides, most people would just accept an offer for a free tour, you know?”

You narrow your eyes playfully at him, “Not from a stranger, no.”

You catch him bite his lower lip when you don’t make things easier for him, finding too much fun in your little exchange even though you’re unsure where this side of you is coming from.

“But I’m not a stranger though,” Jaehyun points out. “You know me.”

You wag your index finger at him, “Correction. I know your name.”

“And that’s not enough?”

“You could be a a dodgy guy for all I know.”

“You think I’m out to harm you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

You fall dead silent because Jaehyun’s unknowingly become too close to you, your ability to pick up on his advances clouded by the determination of brewing a witty comeback just to win a game you weren’t aware you were playing. And it doesn’t help that Jaehyun is suddenly wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his grip firm and strong, pulling you away from where you're standing and landing so close to his chest. From his shoulder, you see a big crowd of people walk past, all too focused and lost in the earpieces stuck in their ears and wandering eyes, making it almost impossible for them to spot you in their tracks, too engrossed in the building that stood before them.

“Still think I’m dodgy?” Jaehyun asks amusingly, a crooked smile hanging on the corner of his lips, looking down at you but never letting go of you.

You blink, avoiding his eyes, training them to the lints that had formed on his coat.

“S-so about that tour? Is it still up for grabs?”

------

“I didn’t know what you liked so I got you a latte. Hope that’s okay?” is the first thing Jaehyun says to you when you meet him at exactly ten in the morning at your agreed meeting place. He sounds unsure and he’s watching you with expectant eyes.

You nod, smiling. “This is perfect, thank you.” After taking a careful first sip, so as to not burn your tongue so early in the day, you look around you, the high end shops surrounding the street on either side. “So Mr tour guide, what do you have planned for today?”

“Well, I’m glad you asked,” he plays along with a goofy smile, pretending to scroll through his phone as if the agenda had been written on it. “And to answer your question, you’re going to have to wait and see, it’s a surprise.”

Your mouth forms an “o”, your expectations rising. “Exciting!” And you really mean it. Because feeling nervous earlier was one thing, looking forward to the day ahead was another thing, and if you were being honest, you don’t remember how you felt earlier in the morning at all, now that you were casually strolling the streets of Budapest with Jaehyun.

As you manoeuvre through the Parliament Building and as you climb the dome of St. Stephen’s Basilica, you learn a few things about Jaehyun that rise during your conversations on the trek to your destinations. You learn that Jaehyun is the head of the marketing team in a company he refuses to name (which you presume must be a renowned one and that he was just being humble), that he lives alone in an apartment in the suburbs to escape the busy city life that he has to see every single morning for work, that he’s an only child hence, has a very close relationship with his parents who still worry about him venturing onto these solo trips every year despite being a working adult.

You huff, placing both your hands on your hips when you arrive at a landing after climbing so many steps you had lost count of. “Oh, I had completely different assumptions about you,” you say in between trying to catch your breath, allowing people to walk past you as they continue their climb.

Jaehyun turns to you, a brow slightly raised, the teasing smile threatening to form on his lips poking on something you had just said. Your eyes widen, mortified at the fact that you had just exposed yourself thinking about him in your spare time. “Wait, that’s not what I meant– wait.”

Jaehyun dismisses it, shaking his head lightly. “Well what did you assume in the first place?”

That was one more thing you had learned about Jaehyun in the midst of talking to him passively, was that he had a tremendous talent for making you eat your own words. Either that or you just really didn’t think your words through before speaking them out loud. At this point, you really didn’t care anymore, besides after today, Jaehyun would just be another memory, another stranger you’ve met in the passing.

“Definitely not the head of the marketing department.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Then what?”

“A model, maybe.”

Jaehyun chuckles as you both halt at the bottom of another set of winding stairs above. You nod truthfully, remembering your first impression of him all too well from last year; tall and undeniably blessed with outstanding features. “Yeah. A model for a clothing brand, maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jaehyun says lowly, turning away from you to hide the growing smile on his face and the reddening of the tip of his ears (which by the way was definitely not caused by the cold).

Jaehyun was good looking and he deserved to know that even if it was through an indirect statement. “It is,” you nod as you continue your ascent after sucking in a huge breath. Jaehyun follows closely behind, cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “So, only child, huh?” you call out behind you, raising your voice slightly to ensure he hears you. You hear him hum, “Does it not get lonely sometimes, no?”

Jaehyun ponders for a second, his childhood flashing before his eyes. “Sometimes, yeah. But not too much, I have a bunch of crazy friends. They’re almost like brothers to me.”

You nod absentmindedly, an imaginary picture of what Jaehyun’s friends could possibly be like popping up in your head. You think they must be a nice bunch too, considering how pleasant your company has been. You draw yet another huge breath in, your hand gripping onto the cold metal handrail, the many stairs leading up to your destination that wasn’t even in sight yet, making your lungs yell for air. “The view better be worth it,” you grumble to yourself but Jaehyun hears.

“Trust me, it is,” Jaehyun pipes up from behind you, surprising you a little but you take his word for it anyway.

And sure enough, Jaehyun was right. The view from the top of the dome sure was breathtaking, the roofs of the buildings below coated with snow that had fallen earlier in the morning and the vague outline of the mountain in the distance, and although it was all you could see, besides the minuscule people and the various roads and alleys, somehow, it felt so ataractic to be here with the sun peeking through the clouds, even when the cold wind makes you shiver under the many layers of clothing you had. The view was surreal in your eyes, but how it made you feel was definitely something else indescribable.

“Well?” Jaehyun asks, stepping beside you by the ledge.

“You were right,” you admit. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

Jaehyun has been here before, but right now, sharing the exact same view he’s seen countless of times, he thinks the view had just become even more magnificent than all the times he’s stood here the previous years.

------

When the sun sets, you learn that the capital city of Hungary, is divided into two, that the Chain Bridge connects the hilly areas of Buda to the flatter areas of Pest. You learn this as Jaehyun navigates you through Christmas markets where you find hand-made products that range from ornaments to clothes, to warm and fresh local food that you indulge in with Jaehyun. Other people weave in and out these booths just like you and the fairy lights tangled amongst the bare branches of a huge tree that’s firmly rooted in the middle of the square, gives the place a homey and cozy feeling. When the evening snow begins to fall, the two of you are taking a sip of your hot mulled wine in a cup.

“Are you tired or do you still have some energy left?” Jaehyun asks lowly.

“Both?” You reply honestly.

Jaehyun chuckles and discards his cup in a nearby bin when he finishes his wine. “We have one last place to see,” he announces. “But don’t worry, it’s a pretty cool and chill place.”

You nod, liking the idea of ending the day somewhere you could relax. “I’m down.”

You find yourselves in front of a place called “Szimpla Kert” and when you take a peek inside, it’s dark, neon and fairy lights scattered everywhere. When Jaehyun leads you inside, you realise it’s almost like a bunch of outdoor bars grouped together in one place, with random tables and seats decorating the place, along with music playing throughout the entire place. Jaehyun finds a seat for you both, right beside a heater to keep yourselves warm, the place still cold despite the roof that covers it.

“First round is on me,” Jaehyun winks before he’s dashing off to the nearest bar he comes across.

You look around the place, taking in its smallest details; broken and abandoned TV’s adding touch to the unconventionality of the interior, with random pictures and paint splayed on the walls. You spot an old (and possibly broken) arcade machine on the other corner and when your eyes fall onto your own table, you realise it’s not the same as the others either. You think it’s unique; how nothing in this place doesn’t make any sense, but you like it anyway, almost seeming like a breath of fresh air in the middle of all the chaos that is your life, despite it not being the image of tranquility in your head.

You watch as Jaehyun re-emerges from somewhere, with what looks like two cocktails in his hands. He sets them down on the wooden table before taking a seat next to you on the wooden log. “I honestly can’t remember the names of these two but I asked the bartender to give me their best ones.”

You reach for the yellow one, leaving Jaehyun with a clear looking one and take a sip. The bartender wasn't wrong, the cocktail tasted divine, picking up on the fruity taste of the mango added with alcohol to which you assume is vodka and a bunch of other ingredients you couldn’t quite make out. Nonetheless, it was good and so you take another sip from the straw. When Jaehyun sees you satisfied, he begins to drink his own, the cool of the cocktail sending shivers down his spine.

“So what made you come back here?” Jaehyun asks, starting the conversation in hopes of getting to know you a little better.

You shrug your shoulders, recalling the time the opportunity of being able to travel presenting itself amidst your busy schedule back home. “Not sure,” you confess, glancing at him. “It just felt like the right place to be.”

Content with your answer, with it having spoken so much more than the actual length of the words themselves, Jaehyun smiles, somehow knowing how it feels to be in the same position, though never really knowing your whole story. “I get that.”

“Yeah?” you re-confirm, leaning over the table to look at him a little longer, resting the side of your head against the palm of your hand, your cocktail now half empty, the alcohol beginning to sink in your system. “Is that why you come back every year?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun nods, staring straight ahead before directing his gaze at you. “Up until this year.”

You almost miss the last part but you don’t and even when you do hear it, it doesn't make sense to you. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he’s sipping away at his cocktail, prompting you to do the same and no one speaks after that. When your glasses are completely empty, you rise from your seat and Jaehyun follows your every move.

“Second round is on me,” you wink at your company, in the same manner he did earlier. Unknown to you, the playful gesture bothers him way more than it had its effects on you from when he did it.

It isn't long before you return, with four shot glasses gathered up in your palms, careful enough not to trip on anything to save the drinks. Jaehyun raises a brow when you set them down in front of him, silently examining what appears to be clear fluid in the glasses; Palinka shots.

“Are we drinking to die tonight?” Jaehyun asks unsurely, eyeing the drinks.

You roll your eyes as you reclaim your seat beside him, “I’m pretty sure you know what these are given you’re like an unofficial local here.”

Jaehyun’s laugh resonates from his chest and vibrates through his whole body. “Of course I know what they are. I had too much of those one time and I almost passed out in public.”

You grin, picking up a glass and handing it to him before taking one for yourself. “Well then, cheers?” you raise yours to his which he meets with his own, eliciting a small “clink” in the process. You down the drink it one go, taking a big gulp. You blink hard for three seconds, the strength of the alcohol coming at you full force, making your throat burn and your face grimace.

“Wow,” you manage to croak when you recover shortly. “That’s something else.”

“Right?”

“I love it.”

You ignore the feeling of your head beginning to spin when you down your second shot with Jaehyun, your cheeks now rosy while the tips of Jaehyun’s ears now coloured a shade of pink. He’s grinning incredulously at you, “I’ve never drank this with anyone before.”

You turn to him, lazily blinking in the process. “Really?”

Jaehyun nods, “Yeah. I always came here alone.”

You raise a brow playfully, bringing your face closer to his. “What an insult to all the girls you’ve brought here before.”

Jaehyun laughs lowly, eyes trained on you (your lips). “What makes you think I’m lying?”

You bring your elbow to rest on the wooden table, resting your jaw against your hand which you have balled into a fist. “With that face of yours, it’s impossible you haven’t brought anyone here.”

Jaehyun feels the need to get closer to you, so he does, scooting in his seat until his shoulder almost touches yours. “And what’s with this face of mine?”

You blink long and hard, your face feeling all too warm, but your eyes don’t miss the way Jaehyun’s brows knot together. The sound you emit next comes out more like a giggle and you reckon it’s the alcohol working in you but the answer you say next isn’t exactly induced by the intoxication either.

“Handsome.”

Jaehyun gapes at you for a moment, blinking, dumbfounded. He’s been complimented many times before, but they all didn’t matter to him.

Until tonight.

Winter three.

The Danube river is the second largest river in Europe, after the river Volga. It flows through ten countries, Hungary, being one of them and has a whopping length of nearly three thousand kilometres. This fact amazes you as you lean back and sit on a bench situated not too far from the glorious Parliament Building, a warm cup of coffee in your hand that heats the tips of your fingers. You wonder what it might look like in other cities it flows through, what the views might be like over there, and if there are people who ponder on the same questions as you.

As you exhale another breath of cold, crushing December evening air, your mind drifts to Jaehyun, tilting your head to let your eyes fall on the other side of the river, vaguely making out the outline of the Fisherman’s Bastion through the light fog, where Jaehyun had magically appeared out of nowhere the previous year and where he kindly took photos of you the year before that. Maybe that’s why the Danube river reminds you so much of Jaehyun, because on two occasions, it had been the same view you both shared, a little something you like to consider a common thing between you both. The river looks incredible and the mere thought of its properties is enough to fascinate you in more ways than one, much like Jaehyun. His appearance has always been so.. alluring. But underneath all that, he was just as captivating, the many layers to his personality in the brief moments you get to witness them, a testament to that.

“I’m beginning to think you're following me.”

All the hairs on your skin stand, fate seeming to work for the third time in three consecutive years because when you look to your left, there stands Jaehyun with that same smile he always greets you with, the very man on your thoughts just half second ago.

“Excuse me? I was here first.”

You’re grinning when he takes a seat beside you, happy to see him. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he jokes, his smile getting wider, his dimples catching your attention.

You roll your eyes playfully, “I know. I’m kind of tired seeing you here.”

Jaehyun shrugs with a chuckle escaping his lips, “I feel the same way. So who is it gonna be? Do you leave or do I?” You laugh then, making him laugh with you. When the silence falls, Jaehyun’s gaze on you doesn’t, in awe of how the world works. “How have you been, y/n?”

“Good,” you nod, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I’ve been good. Still the same. How about you?”

“I’ve been well, thank you.” So you spend the next half an hour filling each other on what’s happened in the past year. Jaehyun talks about his job and how it’s allowed him to meet new people from different places, his friends who are still as loud and as boisterous as ever and his plans of maybe adopting a pet to keep him company at home. You let him ramble on and on, spurring him to talk even more when you ask him questions here and there because if you were being honest, there wasn’t much to fill him in in relation to your life. Now that you think about it, you don’t recall ever talking about yourselves during your encounters with Jaehyun. Maybe a small thing or two, but nothing major, nothing in depth like his stories.

You wonder if he’s noticed.

Jaehyun’s in the middle of a sentence when your eyes become empty, his words drowned out by your thoughts and even though you’re looking at him, you speculate he's noticed because he stops talking abruptly. You see him smile lightly, tracing his eyes at the ground before looking at you, the silence allowing him to gather his words.

He’s definitely noticed.

“I want to know more about you y/n.”

So that’s how you end up leading the way the very next day, Jaehyun letting you tour him this time, as if he hadn’t already been to this place you’re planning on taking him. All he was instructed was to bring something to wear for swimming to which he immediately countered with an “swimming?! In this freezing weather?!” But he does as he’s told anyway, at least with what he’s told you this morning that he might have struggled to find something to wear at such short notice.

When you arrive at the Szechenyi Thermal baths, Jaehyun’s mouth forms an “o” and you unknowingly grab him by the wrist to pull him inside with you. It takes about five minutes to validate the tickets you’ve bought online the night prior and ten minutes for the two of you to get changed and lock your belongings away safely. Jaehyun appears by the corridor in shorts that fall below his knees while you come out in a bikini bra with shorts to pair it. When you see each other, you both burst out laughing, the exact same thought crossing in your minds: who’s crazy enough to be swimming outdoors during such a harsh Winter? But the steam outside, floating from the hot surface of the water serves as some sort of reassurance that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you both initially thought it would be.

“This is crazy,” Jaehyun mumbles but he’s grinning anyway, stopping just right by the door that leads to the outdoor baths. “I’ve heard of this place before but I've never actually been here.”

You nudge his arm with your elbow, a teasing smile on your face. “I’m a great tour guide, amen’t I? To have found such a place you actually haven’t been to.” You walk past Jaehyun and reach for the door, an icy gust of wind immediately greeting you making you shiver to the core. “I’m gonna run, I’ll see you there!”

“You are.. great,” Jaehyun finds himself mumbling when you disappear in the mist. He follows suit not too long after, realising just why you sprinted your way to the waters so as to avoid the freezing air. He finds you by the bottom of the pool stairs, soaking yourself in the hot waters that completely cancels out the cold. Jaehyun sighs in relief when he steps in, sinking himself in until he finds himself beside you.

“This is the best thing ever?” Jaehyun comments, feeling all his muscles relax as the currents warm his body.

“Right?” you almost exclaim, feeling all too excited. “I don’t even feel the cold anymore?”

You’re not sure how but Jaehyun gets you talking about yourself as you round the pools together, seeing many other people on the way, basking in the comfort of the hot waters as yourselves. You begin to share about your life, in the same way he did last year, trying to give as much detail as him but careful enough not to overshare. You tell him you work at a pharmacy, owned by your parents that’s most likely going to be passed down to you. You talk about your parents too and what they’re like, how they’ve dedicated their whole lives into ensuring a good future for their business. You mention your older brother whom you haven’t seen in almost two years, having moved four years ago as soon as he’d graduated university to seek a bigger opportunities abroad.

“So is working at the pharmacy what you really want to do?” Jaehyun asks softly after a while when you finish talking, the questioning having remained in his head ever since the mention of your family’s business.

You remember your older brother asking you the exact same question years ago, just before he’d left for good, knowing all too well that he’d have the same fate as you had he not eased your parents into letting him go for years on end up until his graduation. The thing was, your brother saw so much potential in you, so much more than you would ever see in yourself, no matter how hard you looked and maybe that’s why you doubted yourself so much all these years. And every single time, your doubts always overpowered even the smallest possibility or desire of leaving.

Of course it wasn’t what you wanted. It really wasn’t.

And you’ve been scared to admit that to your brother, let alone yourself. But looking at Jaehyun now, peering into your eyes as the subtle rays of the sun peek through the clouds momentarily, falling onto his features, you feel safe, safe enough to admit what you couldn’t before.

Maybe not so forwardly.

“I don’t want to leave my parents,” you answer honestly, forcing a small smile. That was another reason, if not, probably the biggest reason holding you back.

Jaehyun only smiles at you warmly, signalling he understands and doesn’t press onto the matter further, thinking maybe it was a too much of a big question to ask so early in the day. Nonetheless, he appreciates your honesty.

Jaehyun offers you a hand out of the pool after another two hours of conversation and splashing each other with water on the face until either one surrenders. You’re immediately shivering when you step out but Jaehyun is quick to clad your shoulders with a towel before taking his own even when he’s shivering way more than you are.

When Jaehyun decides it’s too early to go back into town, you take a stroll around the vicinity of the baths after getting changed, traipsing along the paths with evidence of snow being scraped off of them to the side where it mounts slightly higher before it levels off again. Jaehyun is a good listener, picking up certain details about your previous mentions to ask you more questions in attempts of getting to know you better. It feels unusual because you feel that you’ve always been one to be on the listening end, definitely not on the talking one. But Jaehyun makes it so easy despite the unfamiliarity of it all. You’re not sure how, but it didn’t matter, it made you stop and think about yourself for a while.

You hear distant echoes of screams and cheers up ahead and it grabs your attention as well as Jaehyun’s. As you walk further, you reach a bridge and right under it reveals an ice rink so vast and and so wide, with a lot of people gliding through the ice, some with ease, some not so. You stand there, watching people below for a while. It looked so much fun.

“Have you much experience with ice skating?”

You laugh unknowingly, “Why do you think I'm up here and not down there?”

Jaehyun laughs shortly but not for long when he’s grabbing you by the hand and tugging you along with him. “No no Jaehyun we are not ice skating!” you plea from behind him but he takes no notice, continuing to pull you with ease, his hand surprisingly warm on your skin. To Jaehyun, it was the perfect time to be ice skating; the sun was about to set, the streetlights about to illuminate everything in the path, and definitely the perfect time to be holding your hand.

Jaehyun leaves you with no choice when he pays for two pairs of skates without your consultation, earning himself a grimace from you when he hands you your own pair. You watch him quietly, puzzled as he skilfully secures his skates on, one foot at a time. He stands then, the blades adding a little more to his already tall stature and when he sees your skates still in your hands, unmoved since he’d given them to you, he takes you by the shoulders with his palms, gently guiding you to sit on the bench he had just been on. He bends to the ground then and wordlessly unzips each one of your boots so that he can take them off and replace them with skates. You keep your eyes on him, his brows furrowed and lips pressed together as he focuses on his task.

For the first time, you didn’t feel as cold.

“Well?” He says when he stands again after making sure your skates were tight enough, outstretching his hand for you to take.

Turns out Jaehyun doesn’t let go of your hand the whole time you skate around the rink, not after you almost flat on your face the moment you step onto the ice, his fast reflexes preventing a potential injury just in time. And it feels nice, so nice to be laughing and giggling with him as you glide along the ice while dodging other people, his hand holding yours so firmly it makes skating less daunting. Jaehyun uses his other hand to fish his phone out of his pocket and take pictures of you, though you’re unsure they come out nice because you can’t stop laughing for some reason, especially not after you almost lose balance and almost fall on your back. When you reach the edge, mutually deciding to slow down to catch your breaths, Jaehyun pulls you close to him until your body’s pressed up against his, his arm naturally landing itself around your shoulder, his phone up in the air so that he can take a picture of you both. You’re too astonished to even realise his intentions that the camera captures you staring up at Jaehyun, stunned, while he, on the other hand, smiles widely at the device.

“So will I see you here next year again?” Jaehyun asks after he swallows a bite of his burger at the best burger place he claims he has ever been to, to which you agree on when you take the first bite of yours, your stomach growling from not having eaten anything all day since breakfast in addition to all the swimming and ice skating.

You grin teasingly, leaning closer to him, narrowing your eyes, “Why? You want to see me again?”

“Yes.”

You were joking just half a second ago but Jaehyun was most certainly not. Not in the way his eyes remain on you and definitely not in the way he answers without hesitation. He’s caught you off guard yet again and you’re blinking up at him, at a loss for what to say.

“So will I be seeing you next year?” he repeats, this time more adamant. “Will I?”

You lean away from him and laugh it off casually. “Have you always been this persistent?”

“When I want something, yeah.”

Jaehyun insists on taking you back to your accommodation and you didn’t have the heart to refuse. The journey back feels long and it’s mostly because it’s eerily quiet between the two of you, neither of you having enough courage to start a conversation. Jaehyun’s playing with the tips of his fingers on the subway, his lower lip caught between his teeth, too lost in his own thoughts. He had always been one to be honest and definitely forward, but he wished he wasn’t any of those tonight because he’s convinced it’s exactly what had probably scared you away. You’re eyes shift on anything on the moving train but Jaehyun, feigning interest on the ads plastered on the ceiling above, as if you could even understand the language, but at this point, you were desperate to get your mind off Jaehyun, his presence right beside you, let alone the mere thought of him, creating a haze in your mind.

Attachment was never part of the plan.

Yet here you were, wondering what the next year might be like if it didn't consist of meeting Jaehyun and going off to places that definitely was not on your agenda.

Jaehyun stands awkwardly in front of you as you come to a halt just outside the front entrance of your hotel. You take one good look at him as he keeps his eyes to the ground because Jaehyun had found you on your last day of your stay this year which meant that this wa the last time you’d get to see him for maybe another year, if you decided to be honest with yourself tonight.

“Jaehyun?” you call out, grabbing his attention immediately when he stops kicking the ground.

He looks up at you, an apologetic smile on his face. “Thanks for today, I had so much fun. And for bringing me back too.”

“It’s no problem.”

His words from earlier echo in your head, making you wish you were as sure as he was when it came to wanting something in life because you knew, it was something you had been running away from all your life. And you were sure he knew that too and in a sense, it felt like he was testing you; trying to see if you had enough courage to make decisions in relation to what you wanted. Maybe Jaehyun knew what you wanted even before you even had the chance to figure it out. Either that, or he was just really good at making guesses.

It was time to be honest.

So you step forward until you’re close enough to him and he watches you without blinking, his whole attention on you. And when you reach up to plant a chaste kiss on his cheek, you could almost swear you felt the heating up of his cheeks during the short contact.

“I’ll see you next year, Jaehyun.”

Winter four.

You’re not sure how you’ve been surviving for the past four years without keeping in contact with Jaehyun because you feel it the most today; you miss him. It doesn’t make sense at all. How could you miss someone you’ve spent just a day with, maybe at most, two days, for the past few years? Was that enough to miss someone this bad? According to your experience, yes. Because standing right here, right in front of the Shoes by the Danube Bank, a memorial created to honour the Jews who lost their lives during the second World War, overlooking the calm stream of the river, you wished nothing more than to see him. Unknowingly, seeing Jaehyun had become the highlight of your trip, if not, your year and what made this year scarier was that you were expecting to see him, especially after what you had said to him last year. And expectations always meant there were greater chances of disappointments. This year wasn’t like the previous ones because this time, it would no longer be all about coincidences and luck, it was all about the desire to see each other. And on your end, the feeling of missing him too.

It didn’t make sense, none of it did.

But then again, when did anything ever make sense?

Jaehyun had always found you in places that overlooked the river and in the next few days that come during your stay, you come back to all the spots by the Danube in hopes of seeing him there. But you don’t. He doesn’t show. And you’re beginning to lose hope, your insides crushing at the thought of what you’re feeling being a one-sided thing. Had Jaehyun given you mixed signals last year? Was he even giving signs? Did you misinterpret everything? It was certainly feeling like you were wrong about your whole situation the whole time when the sun rises on the second last day of your stay, your time running out and your week coming to an end. The days seem to fly even when you’re doing nothing but roam the city aimlessly and even when you try to make the most of the time you have left without Jaehyun, none of it feels the same. Budapest reminds you too much of him and seeing pieces of him in everything you looked and visited, only added to the emptiness you tried so hard to suppress.

This will definitely be your last time here.

“Stop worrying,” you speak into the phone, picking up a Christmas tree ornament from the table of one of the booths in the Christmas market. “Mom, I’m fine here, I promise.”

“You say that all the time,” she replies, her tone not one tad bit satisfied with your answer. “I wish I went with you.”

You roll your eyes playfully, handing the small star shaped ornament to the vendor so that you could pay for it. “And you do this every year too. I’ve been traveling for four years straight and I come back in one piece all the time, don’t I? I’ll be fine this time around too.”

“Don’t mind your mother! She’s just being a worry wart!” your hear your dad distantly on the line, making you smile. Your mom hisses at him just as you hand money to the woman behind the table. “Is there a reason why you always leave at this time of the year? And to the same place too?” your mom asks, concern in her voice.

There hadn’t been a particular reason at first, remembering how your finger had landed randomly on Hungary on the map when deciding where to fly to spontaneously, feeling the need to just get away for a while back then. And it had been your plan to do the exact same thing when it came to deciding where to go next after the first. But you found yourself coming back to the same place every single time and surely there was obviously a reason why.

But your mom didn’t have to know that.

“No particular reason mom,” you reply after seconds of silence, retrieving the ornament from the woman, now safe in a small turquoise paper bag. “I just really like it here in Budapest. It’s beautiful.” You thank the vendor before walking away and it takes another five minutes of convincing your mom you’re okay on your own before you’re putting your phone away in your pocket.

It’s early in the day, yet the markets are already being swarmed by people. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice a crowd rush past you, making you stumble forward when someone bumps against you, continuing on in their path after sparing you a mere glance and an inaudible apology. You’re lucky enough the paper bag in your hand doesn’t fall, for sure the ornament shattering into pieces if it did.

At such an unconventional time, your thoughts come back to Jaehyun, the memory of him shielding you away from a bustling crowd at the bastion flashing before your eyes. Everywhere really did remind you of him and it was starting to get on your nerves because with every little reminder came with a little spark of hope that you would be seeing him this year too, setting you up for even greater heights of disappointment.

Exhaling a sigh, you carry onwards, not really knowing where you’re headed. You keep your eyes plastered to the ground, thinking that maybe it could temporarily solve your inner dilemmas. If you didn’t see your surroundings, then there’d be no reminder of Jaehyun’s absence. Focus on your shoes, focus on the grey linings of the pavement, focus on anything but the fact that the reason for your visit might have bailed on you. Jaehyun wasn’t obliged to meet you, you knew that, but still, the thought left a sour taste in your mouth–

You get the fright of your life when you’re hauled off the street by the arm and into an alley that appears to be deserted by the public. But what surprises you even more is how close you are to the culprit of your heart dropping to the ground from shock. Both of your arms have landed on the stranger’s chest, most likely as a defence mechanism, a barrier between the both of you. And you’re preparing for the worst, to be taken away or to be harmed because this was exactly how people go missing. Now you understood why your mom had been so worried and you silently wish she tagged along with you.

But nothing happens.

“You’re gonna get run over by those crowds if you continue to not pay attention.”

You look up.

“Hi.”

You’re glad to see him but your first instinct is to hit him.

“How are– hey! Ow!”

“I thought you weren’t coming you idiot!”

“I’m sorry!”

“You should be!”

You push yourself away from him, straightening yourself and tugging at your clothes. You find him grinning at you and it pisses you off even more. He crosses his arms across his chest and leans on the wall behind him.

“So you were waiting for me, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, finding no humour in the situation. His face reminds you of the stress from the past few days induced by wondering if he'd even show up. “I don’t find how this is funny.”

“Were you?”

“Where the hell have you been anyway?”

He grins even more.

“Don’t answer my question with another question, y/n.”

“I thought we agreed on this last year?” You counter again.

“Were you or were you not waiting for me?”

Jaehyun was still as persistent as you remember him last.

“Fine. Yes.��

You shut your eyes at your confession, already planning in your head for possible escapes to run away from the situation. But he doesn’t let you because he’s tugging at your arm again, hard enough that you land on his chest again. The only difference this time is that he has his arms around you, squeezing your body into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I'm late. Something came up at home.”

Unknowingly, you relax in his embrace, the exhaustion of wondering and waiting catching up to you. “I fly back tomorrow,” you mumble.

Jaehyun stills for a bit before he tightens his hug around you. “Are you free today?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s enough time.”

None of you budge from your position, letting Jaehyun hug you for as long as he wanted, for as long as you became sure he was really here. Besides, he served as a nice human heater from the cold for the meantime.

“Missed you,” he murmurs.

Glad to know you weren’t the only one.

------

Spending the whole day with Jaehyun had never been this good and you think it’s because he hasn’t let go of your hand all day. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind today, silently agreeing with one another that today didn’t have to be all about lists of places to go to, it would just be about wandering anywhere and everywhere with each other. You didn't mind at all, even when you both loose yourselves in places you have never come across. Maybe getting lost was the only thing on today’s agenda. Every now and then, Jaehyun would steal quick glances at you, a shy smile playing on his lips and you feign ignorance by pretending not to notice because if you looked his way and met his eyes during those occasions, you weren’t sure if it would be healthy for your heart. You were already slowly melting just feeling his thumb rubbing circles on your skin, what more if you actually caught his eyes.

In the middle of the laughs and the mini facts you share about each other in the midst of playing twenty one questions during your trails, Jaehyun is snapping pictures almost every five minutes, of sceneries and buildings around you but mostly, of you doing the most mundane things like staring up at the structures, picking up random things in shops or laughing at something he had said. Jaehyun tried to be discrete about it at first but it was hard to keep that up when he was constantly lifting his camera almost every chance he got.

“I’m pretty sure you have enough pictures of me already, Jae,” you point out, shaking your head when he takes another one of you walking towards him after buying a chimney cake for you both to share. “And I’m pretty sure you’re going to end up deleting half of them too.”

Jaehyun finally lets go of his camera and lets it hang around his neck, taking the cake from you so that he can rip off a piece for you. “You’re right.”

“Exactly so–”

“You are pretty.”

You stop chewing on the piece of cake. “What? That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s what I meant.”

You don’t argue anymore because Jaehyun resumes on eating the cake and you feel that if you poked on the topic further, it would worsen the already reddening of your cheeks. So you dismiss it, pretend like you’re not a blushing mess by continuing to eat another piece of chimney cake that he's handing over to you. Too bad that the reason Jaehyun is grinning so widely to himself is in fact because of the blushing of your cheeks.

When the sun sets and the moon takes over in the vastness of the night sky, you find yourself shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun in one of the cars of the Budapest Eye, a Ferris wheel that gives you an aerial view of the city. You’ve seen Budapest from up high before, when Jaehyun had taken you to the St Stephen’s basilica, climbing an awful lot of stairs to reach the dome. But Budapest at night was something else too with the lights making everything glow in its path. The Chain Bridge looks magnificent from up there and you’re silent as you marvel at the view, the car stopping briefly to allow more passengers to jump in at the bottom car.

“It’s so.. beautiful,” you say, eyes sparkling at the view outside the window.

Jaehyun agrees, “Yeah,” though his eyes are not on the bridge. “So beautiful.”

You turn abruptly and catch him already staring at you and it spurs him to look away immediately, clearing his throat in the process. You take your phone out of your pocket and press for the camera icon, scooting away from Jaehyun. “It’s not fair that you have pictures of me and I have none of you.”

Jaehyun chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss, not in the mood to have another exchange with him. You take a picture of him right there and then, not even bothering to give him a heads up. It’s a picture of him looking straight ahead, his dimple showing on the side of his face, looking cosy and warm. Even when he isn’t trying, he still looked as good as ever.

“Hey, I wasn't ready,” he complains and tries to have a peek at the photo.

“Now you know how I felt the entire day,” you counter, unamused. “The picture looks good though.”

“Good enough to be your wallpaper?” Jaehyun asks teasingly.

Of course it was. Probably every single photo of Jaehyun is good enough to be anyone's wallpaper. But he didn’t need to know that. “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jaehyun laughs and scoots over to you, making the car shake slightly, prompting you to hold on to the bar next to you. “Hey be careful,” you warn him, earning yet another chuckle from him.

“Let’s take a picture together, so you have one of us too,” he suggests and takes your phone swiftly off your hands. Jaehyun slings an arm around your shoulders and naturally, you lean towards him, even going as far as resting your head between the space of his neck and shoulder. It seems to satisfy Jaehyun because you can see his smile broaden through the screen of your phone just before he presses the button to take the picture.

It feels nice to be this close to Jaehyun and he gives your shoulder a light squeeze as a silent affirmation that you didn't have to pull away so soon, that you could stay right where you were even as he lowers your phone after the picture’s been taken. Your arms find shelter around Jaehyun’s waist in the seconds that come, as the wheel continues to spin and as the car ascends again. You release a sigh of relief, feeling the calmest you’ve ever been in so long and it makes you close your eyes, to feel Jaehyun’s warmth a little more, to bask in his presence while he’s here. Jaehyun’s rubbing at your shoulder gently with the palm of his hand, leaning closer to you until his temple rests on the top of your head.

Neither of you speak for a while, the silence too delicate and fragile to disturb. It’s refreshing; not having to think or worry about anything for now, Jaehyun’s mere presence enough to cancel out every little insignificant thing. You take it all in because tomorrow would be a whole different story.

When the wheel stops spinning and your car halts at the bottom, you peel yourself away from Jaehyun and prepare to leave when you notice the tips of his ears are a deep shade of red. You can’t stop looking at them even as he helps you off the car. “Jae? Your ears, they’re really red.”

“Oh?” His hands fly to touch either of them. “I feel really warm.”

You frown at him, “It’s minus five degrees.”

“Oh, must be the cold.”

So in order to fight the “cold”, Jaehyun insists on grabbing mulled wine on your trek back to your hotel and as you down the warm beverage, the more honest your conversations get. Maybe it’s the certain percentage of alcohol in the drink or the fact that time was ticking against the both of you, but it seemed very fitting to be honest around each other now. You also get to understand Jaehyun a little better.

“Remember when I thought you were a model at first?” you recall your earliest memories of Jaehyun, his hand clasped in yours. “And how shocked I was when you said you were head of a marketing team because I really did think you were a model.”

Jaehyun smiles at you fondly. “You’re not wrong. I was a model once.”

“No way? Really?”

“Mhm.”

“What happened?”

Jaehyun stops in his steps, a sad smile adorning his lips, eyes kept to the ground. You look back at him, his hand pulling on yours as he stops walking. He looks up at you then, eyes a little sorrowful, “I got tired of it. Tired of having to look perfect all the time.”

When your paper cups are empty and discarded, both of you find yourselves seated on a bench that gives you a great view of the Chain Bridge up close. You sit as close to each other as possible to preserve warmth, the cold not enough to bother you both, especially you, not when Jaehyun had so much more to say.

“That’s when I knew modelling wasn’t for me,” he starts, gazing at your intertwined hands. “Getting praises left and right for how I looked was great for a while, it boosted my confidence a lot. But at some point, it got too much,” he looks at you, “It felt like my appearance was the only thing that mattered. No one knew me and no one took the time to get to know me. One look at my face and they thought that that was all they needed from me. I got validation for my looks rather than for who I was as a person.”

Jaehyun draws in a breath, “It just wasn't fulfilling. And I felt pressured to look good all the time. I just knew it wasn’t for me then.”

You stare at him, studying his features. Who would’ve known that his appearance gave him such huge burden at some point. Yet you understand where he's coming from, relating all too well what it feels like to have to put up a front all the time.

Jaehyun is about to say something next and you’re sure it’s something that will change the topic altogether, but you don’t let him just yet because you had to let him know.

“You’re way more than your appearance, Jae.” He trails his eyes on you then, lifting his head up for the first time. “Way way more than your looks. You’re kind, you’re intelligent, you’re hardworking and you’re good at taking care of people around you. Not to mention, your touring skills too.” Jaehyun’s eyes on you don’t falter for even a second and you avoid his gaze by resting your head on his shoulder. “I wish people could see that, how great of a person you really are.”

“You mean that?”

“Mhm. I really do.”

Jaehyun stares out into the river feeling his chest a lot lighter, never really knowing it had been that heavy in the first place. Everyone had insecurities and what Jaehyun had just spoken of, was definitely his. For so long, he'd been carrying it with him, everywhere he went, everything he did, feeling like nobody really saw him from the inside out.

Until now. Until you.

And that was definitely the tipping point for him.

The final push that made him so sure he was definitely falling for you.

“What do you think will happen to us next year?” Jaehyun asks softly, playing with your fingers. “You know this unspoken no-contact-with-each-other rule is getting really hard.”

Jaehyun sounds like he’s joking but you know he’s serious. If you were being honest, it was taking its toll on you too. The past year had consisted of mornings with thoughts of Jaehyun and wondering and asking how he might be doing. You were at home, not even in Budapest yet you still thought of him almost every single day. But the idea of not having contact with Jaehyun seemed more ideal because it meant this whole thing didn’t demand any sort of commitment. It was a one time thing during a specific time of year. It also meant limiting the chances of a potential heartbreak because if you were going to be very very honest with yourself, a whole day with Jaehyun was enough for you to unconsciously become attached.

“I was thinking of maybe going to another country,” you answer finally after so long, weighing all your what ifs and possible outcomes of what you’re about to say. “You know my dad, I think my dad’s been more open-minded to me traveling and seeing the world now.”

“Yeah?”

You nod against his shoulder, “Mhm. Remember how I told you it took my brother years and years to finally convince my parents to let him live abroad? Well, my dad sat down with over coffee a few months back and said he really likes seeing me talk about my travels. He said it’s probably the happiest he’s ever seen me.”

Jaehyun is smiling at you when you lift your head off his shoulder, “And I was thinking I could go somewhere else so that I'd have a different country to talk to him about.” It was a shallow reason but not exactly a lie. Your dad had been hesitant of letting you go, much like Jaehyun’s parents, but the more you left home every year, the more lenient and supportive he had become in allowing you to fly. It sparked hope in you, that these travels would be the key for you to ease them into realising that maybe staying at home forever and working at a place you've known all your life wasn't exactly what you wanted.

But the bigger reason why you didn’t want to come back to this place that had become your ultimate favourite had something to do with the past week in Jaehyun’s absence. Everywhere here reminded you of him and there were too much memories in all the places you walk by, too much memories of a person who probably was just as unsure as you as to where this whole thing between you was heading towards. You were only beginning to figure out your life and you weren’t confident you needed one more thing that needed figuring out on your list.

“I’m really happy for you y/n,” Jaehyun says genuinely but a question lingers in his mind. Where was he in the picture? “Do you have your eyes set somewhere in particular?”

You shake your head because you had no clue, besides, you had only made up your mind just there. “Not yet, no.”

Jaehyun purses his lips together in a thin line as he falls silent. Was he expecting too much? Because the utter disappointment certainly felt like it. “So, I guess I won’t be seeing you next year then?”

His voice breaks your heart because his words come out in a bare whisper, sounding more like a statement for himself rather than a question for you.

“Jae–”

“It’s alright.”

It really wasn't, but in his eyes, you didn't need to know that. You were under no obligation to see him despite how he felt for you and maybe your decision would be the best for the two of you.

“Can you just, come here?” Jaehyun asks extending his arm out, beckoning you to come and rest against him. You follow, leaning into him until you’re comfortably pressed up against his side, his arm around your waist keeping you secure. Jaehyun exhales a breath, a small and brief fog getting lost in the air. “I hope you had fun today, y/n, I did.”

“Jae please don’t.”

You’ve made your decision but you were definitely not ready for a goodbye yet. You take your head off of his shoulder so that you can look at him, his sad eyes a reminder of what awaits tomorrow. Your eyes are reflected on his and they appear just as miserable as his. You lean forward until your forehead touches with his, taking in what’s left of your time together. You feel the warmth of his breath on your skin and suddenly you're too aware of how close you both are to each other. So when you pull away, your eyes drift to his lips just as his are on yours.

And you feel like you're going to regret it forever if you don’t do what your brain’s telling you to do. So you shut your eyes and lean in close, until your lips meet with his, time standing still, bodies warming at the contact.

Jaehyun reciprocates the kiss, shifting his hands so that one keeps you still by nape, one caressing your jaw. If Jaehyun couldn’t tell you with words how much he wanted you to stay, he hoped he could express it in the kiss that makes his head spin and his heart hammer against his ribcage.

Because he wanted nothing more but to keep seeing you, even if it meant waiting another year.

But it mustn’t have been enough.

Because you don’t change your mind.

And you still leave the next day, without any promise of a next year to look forward to.

Winter five.

It feels unusual not to be in the same place for the fifth winter in a row but at the same time, it feels good to be somewhere you’ve never been, all the places you have yet to see, endless. The grand city of Paris known as the city of lights, well recognised for its exquisite cuisine, unique culture and historic monuments, but also known as the city of love. You’ve researched a tonne of information prior to landing and the word “love” related to the city intrigues you the most. The internet and travel brochures list many reasons as to why Paris is indeed the city of love but being here now, having strolled down the Champs Elysees and having followed the River Seine along its path, you could definitely feel and see why it was recognised as a romantic city. In almost every direction you looked, couples were scattered everywhere, holding hands, taking pictures of one another, sharing a laugh. Love was all around and it wasn’t even Valentine’s day. You feel loved too because you’re greeted with smiles as you walk past people, making your insides warm and fuzzy.

But there’s also that feeling too.

You miss him.

And you can’t get the image of him from that night out of your head because he was smiling yet his eyes spoke of a different story. No matter how much you try to push him out of your thoughts, even going as far as picking some place else as to avoid him, it was almost impossible because your subconscious had developed this habit of naturally looking for him the moment you stepped on a plane to fly off to somewhere. Maybe picking Paris was a mistake because now you were imagining what it would be like to see the view from up the Eiffel Tower with him. After all, the greatest views of your life have so far been shared with him. And to think that Paris is indeed the city of love... you couldn't help but wonder if this trip would have been more meaningful if you hand’t been so scared that night.

You catch yourself sighing again as you turn the page of your book, your half empty cup of coffee sitting in front of you on a table that overlooks the River Seine. Brené Brown says that “vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage.” You lift your eyes off the page and contemplate, letting your eyes wander over the crystals on the river that shine as a result of the sun’s rays shining on the surface. Vulnerability. Weakness. Courage. These three words ring in your head and though very different from one another, seem to complement each other very well.

Vulnerability.

What was it like to be vulnerable? You sit and contemplate and come to the conclusion after minutes of trying to recall times where you have been vulnerable, that in fact, no memory comes to mind. With this discovery, comes the realisation that you had so much inside of you to unpack, so much emotions repressed deep down and so much issues that needed to be addressed and talked about. Vulnerability suddenly seemed so daunting to you because it meant letting people in and you weren’t certain you wanted to allow that yet. You’ve been putting up your walls so high all your life that it’s horrifying to even think about lowering them down even just a tiny bit.

Your train of thought gets interrupted with the shrill ringing of your phone. You’re quick to fish it out of your bag and slide the green button across the screen just in time to hear you dad’s voice on the other line. “Hey, dad.”

“Hey sweetheart, how’s Paris?” He sounds excited to hear from you, you can literally hear him smiling through the phone.

He makes you smile genuinely, as if what you were thinking seconds prior to this phone call didn't just make you contemplate your whole life altogether. “Paris is great. Absolutely beautiful dad, I wish you could come and visit sometime.”

He chuckles on the line and you can imagine the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes appear. “That would be great. I can’t wait to hear all of your stories when you get back.”

“In three days dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you reply, the thought of going back neither making you happy nor sad.

There’s a long pause that follows before your dad speaks again. “Everything alright sweetheart?”

Everything was alright. But it didn’t really feel like it.

“Y-yeah. Just, uhh, thinking.”

You hear shuffling in the background followed by a quiet sound of a door opening and closing and you figure your dad had just gone out to the patio, his favourite part of the house back home, most likely looking upwards to see if there were any stars visible in his night sky.

“Listen love, I know you fly back in three days, but no rush okay? Take as much time as you need,” he reassures and somehow he’s unintentionally lifted so much weight off of your chest, the sincerity coated with a hint of worry in his voice triggering your waterworks. “Take all the time you need to think. We owe you at least that. I’ll deal with your mom.”

“Dad.”

“Alright I gotta go. Stay safe and take lots of pictures! Love you.”

Weakness.

Your parents were your absolute weakness, and possibly the biggest hindrances to all the things that your heart would’ve desired. You could never imagine breaking their hearts, that was the absolute last thing you’d ever want to do. That’s why you think you’ve been living such a sheltered life with no risks, no boundaries overstepped and certainly no rules broken. You’ve been programmed to portray the image of the most perfect child to your parents that even the thought of disappointing them makes you grimace and your chest tighten. They take pride in you, always showing you and all the things you’ve achieved, off to friends and family and the absolute perfect person they know you to be.

But why wasn’t it fulfilling at all?

Love was making your loved ones happy, wasn’t it?

You’ve known nothing all your life but to put family first and now that your dad was pushing you to spend time away from them and dedicate it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that maybe you hadn't been so discreet with what you’ve worked so hard to hide. Now that he was urging you to put yourself first, it felt like abandoning everything you’ve known all your life and starting on a clean, blank slate. He definitely saw something you didn't.

But where do you even begin?

“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here!” You shriek as you see a familiar man standing by the revolving doors by the entrance of your hotel. You pick up your pace and run to the person you haven’t seen in so long, tears almost brimming your eyes as you find yourself crushed in a tight hug.

Your brother laughs against your shoulder, tightening his hug, “And I can’t believe you didn't tell me you were in Paris? Which is literally what? Right beside where I am?”

You hug him some more before you finally let go of him, eyeing him from head to toe, unconsciously picking out on things that have changed over the years, but much to your surprise, you don’t find any. “How did you know?”

Kun chuckles, “Mom called.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “Of course.”

“She’s just worried about you,” Kun defends.

“When is she not?”

“Feisty as always,” Kun comments, ruffling your hair.

Kun fills you in on what’s been happening in his life in the years he’s been away from home. He tells you all about Berlin and how much he loves it there, how in love he is with work and how different but magnificent the place is. He looks happy, really happy, the happiest you’ve ever seen him in all the years you’ve lived with each other and with your parents. As you listen to him gush about his plans and a possible promotion in Denmark over brunch and warm croissants, you can’t help but feel a wave of admiration for him. Growing up, Kun has always been your role model. Not in a sense that he always pleased your parents, because growing up, Kun, despite having good grades and never getting in trouble, he and your parents were just never on the same page when it came to talks of the future. You admired him because from the very beginning, he always knew what he wanted and sought and fought for it even if it meant hurting those who loved him the most.

“Earth to y/n?” Kun waves a hand in front of your face when he sees you’ve zoned out, your food half touched.

You blink a couple of times before you’re able to refocus on your brother again, “Sorry. What were you saying?”

Kun shakes his head with a smile, “I was asking how mom and dad are at home.”

“They’re okay. Still the same,” you reply and hope it would suffice but the way Kun is looking at you tells you he needed more. “The pharmacies are doing okay. Mom and dad say business is as at its best right now. That’s pretty much what they’re still up to.”

“Mom still as uptight as ever?”

You nod, smiling, “Yeah. She hasn’t changed one bit.”

“Expected that one,” Kun agrees teasingly. “And dad?”

“Dad’s been..” you start, remembering your phone call with him yesterday. “He’s been okay, still goofy.”

“You know dad’s been telling me about your yearly travels,” Kun admits, his tone of voice shifting to a more serious one, taking a sip from his water. “How come you didn't tell me? I know you have my number. And if it weren’t for mom, I would’ve never known you were so close.”

You sigh, dropping your knife and fork on the table, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just I didn't know what to say or how to tell you. I didn’t even really understand what I was getting myself into. I just.. wanted to go away.”

“Well I can’t say I'm not surprised given I know what you’re like,” Kun says. If there was one person who had known you best, it would be him. “But hell, y/n, I'm so happy for you? I really really am. It mustn’t have been easy leaving on your own like that.”

“You make it sound like I’m a baby, Kun.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Kun leans forward and crosses his arms on the table so that he can rest his weight on it. “What I meant was that, growing up, you were always working so hard to please mom and dad. You always prioritised what they wanted more than anything else and I think in that process, you forgot all about what you wanted. So much that you don’t even know what you actually want because you’ve never had the time to actually think about it.”

Kun’s eyes are sincere and his words even more so. “Dad’s been worrying about you, you know. And not in the way that mom is, like you know with your safety and all that during your travels. But with your life in general.. He’s worried he hasn’t been a great parent to you, that he never really took the time to listen to you or what you wanted.” Kun pauses and releases a sigh, “Dad.. I think he knows you’re not happy at home, y/n.”

Right on instinct, even at this moment, you’re thinking about how horrible your dad must feel for seeing right through all the layers to conceal the truth.

“Was it..” you pause, thinking if it’s the right question to ask but Kun is gazing at you tenderly, just needing his little sister to voice what’s on her mind.

“Was it hard leaving home?”

Kun smiles, “It was harder proving to them I didn't want to stay.” You nod slowly, recounting the endless fights and arguments Kun had with your parents, getting the worst end of it from your mom. “Because I love them to pieces and I saw how much it broke their hearts when I told them.”

“Yeah?”

“And of course, it was hard leaving you too,” he teases, breaking the atmosphere that had almost become suffocating.

You roll your eyes, “You don’t have to lie.”

Kun just laughs, his shoulders shaking as he does before he falls silent again with you, the distant chatters of people in the café filling your ears.

“You should give it a thought, y/n,” he suggests, making you look up from your plate. “About what you want. Mom and dad.. they’ll be okay. Sooner or later they’re going to realise you were made for so much more. And they’re going to be okay with it, because more than anything, they love you and love means letting go too.”

You spend the rest of the day goofing around with your older brother, waves of nostalgia hitting you when it takes you back to older and simpler times. You take lots of pictures together and send it to your parents to which they’re more than ecstatic to receive, your mom’s worries and concerns easing slightly with the knowledge you were with family. Kun teases you nonstop about not having a boyfriend but his teasing backfires when he realises he’s single too, pretending to weep about it in the end. You wonder if you’d tell him about Jaehyun but decide against it knowing more questions would unfold at the mere mention of his name.

“Will you please get in touch with me and stop ignoring my calls and texts?” Kun pleads the next day when you bring him to the airport. “I want to know my sister’s whereabouts too and what she’s up to.”

You laugh as you embrace him for the last time, “I don’t want you tagging along though if I do though.”

“Rude.”

“I’ll pick up your calls, I promise.”

Kun pulls back from the hug and grips you by the shoulders to take one good look at you, “If only my schedule allowed me to stay longer, one day wasn’t enough.”

You smile at him reassuringly, “It’s okay. There’ll be plenty more trips in the future,” he raises his brows at you and gives you a knowing look, “that I promise I will let you know of.”

Kun smiles immediately and pats your head, “Good. Enjoy your last two days okay? And think about what I said.”

You nod eagerly, feeling relieved to have had that conversation with Kun yesterday. “I will. Have a safe flight.”

“Love you.”

When you walk along the River Seine once again, you notice many things along the bridges you didn’t notice before, paintings and artists being some of them. It makes you stop in your step when a particular painting of the Eiffel Tower, located just behind where this particular stand is, catches your eye. It’s a painting of the tower at night, the thousands of lightbulbs lighting up and glistening in the painting with the dashes of yellows and oranges just like it would in real life. You’re tilting your head to the side to really figure out what it is about this painting, besides its perfection, that has you so captivated and feeling some sort of way. You must be staring for so long because the man that’s running the stand approaches you and says something you don’t quite hear the first time around.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asks again in French to which you politely decline with your limited vocabulary.

The sun has fully set when you climb the Eiffel Tower, braving the cold winds to gape at the view below you. It’s all so breathtaking, the way all the lights fall into place, shedding incandescence in all the right places. You can see the river stretch on for miles on end, the buildings that try to rise as high as the Eiffel and the roads that lead to anywhere and everywhere. It’s so gorgeous that you know, even as you take your camera out of your bag, that no photo could ever capture just how magnificent it all was. You give up trying to capture the perfect picture after taking three, choosing to just stop and marvel at the view some more.

Courage.

You don’t have any recollection of moments you’ve been courageous, the closest that comes to mind is probably when you had to stand up in front of an entire lecture hall to give a presentation about the causes and consequences of the rise and fall of economies back in university, or maybe that time you broke it to your parents that you had flights booked for Budapest on a whim, something that up to this day, surprises you greatly they actually let you go. But nothing significant or life changing sticks out, nothing worth giving yourself a pat on the back for accompanied with the words “I’m proud of myself.” You suddenly begin to feel so small then, one big question resonating in your head.

What had you accomplished?

“God, I should’ve known I'd find you here.”

You carry on with your business, turning on your heels to see what the view might be like on the other end of the railing, not really wanting to eavesdrop on someone’s conversation, your distance to them too close you could hear everything.

“You’ve always liked your views.”

Still too close so you keep walking.

“Y/n.”

You freeze. It couldn’t be.

But it really is.

Because when you turn around, Jaehyun is there, eyes set on you with that same smile you can’t stop thinking about.

Your face must have given away how shocked you feel internally because you see Jaehyun chuckling. “What are you...” you can’t even find your voice because it’s as if all the thinking about Jaehyun day and night has actually brought him here to you.

Jaehyun takes a step forward and he sees you flinch, really confirming that he really is real. He stops there in his spot, afraid that if he advanced any further, he’d scare you away completely.

“Look y/n, hear me out. I just need you to listen, okay?” Jaehyun takes a deep breath and that’s when you realise that he’s breathless.

“I don’t know how to say this– but, I– I, like you y/n. And if I'm going to be very honest, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. Which I know sounds crazy considering the short amount of time we’ve spent with each other. But I know, I just know and it’s taken me so long to figure out what to do because I've never even felt this before and I don’t want to scare you away, that’s the last thing I want to do–”

If there were to be a good time to be courageous it would definitely be now and you’re sure you were going to thank yourself later.

In the middle of Jaehyun’s messy confession, your legs take over, bringing you right to him, circle your arms around his neck and prevent him from uttering yet another coherent sentence by kissing him. He pulls you close just in time to confirm this was indeed your reality, that he wasn’t just in your thoughts anymore, that he really was here kissing you too.

For the first time ever, you felt courageous and it felt so liberating.

The heavens pour just when you reach the bottom of the Eiffel Tower and you’re a laughing mess with Jaehyun as you scurry under the rain to get to your hotel, which, you’re thankful is just close by. You’re drenched to the skin when you reach the reception of your hotel, the two of you leaving a little trail of water on the shiny marble floors. You shoot the receptionist an apologetic smile before pulling Jaehyun to the side.

“Whereabouts are you staying?” you ask out of curiosity, gathering up all your hair on top of one shoulder.

Jaehyun smiles bashfully, a hand flying upwards to rub his nape, “Actually... about that.”

“What?” You squint your eyes at him.

“I don’t know yet.”

“What do you mean you don’t know yet?”

Jaehyun swipes his tongue over his lower lip and stuffs his balled palms into the pockets of his wet jeans. “Well, this is actually the fifth country I've been to the past two weeks and I was gonna stop looking for you here–” he purses his lips to stop. “I, I must have forgotten to book myself a hotel and the airlines apparently lost my luggage today.”

You gaze at him in awe, droplets of water dripping down the side of his face, your body warm and your insides even warmer. You can’t suppress the smile that’s getting bigger on your face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“You are one crazy man, Jaehyun.”

But as crazy as he is, you give him shelter for the night, pulling him by the hand to your hotel room. If Jaehyun liked to steal glances at you before, he surely loved to stare at you now, even as you’re using the hairdryer to dry his clothes. You don’t reciprocate his gaze because he was currently half naked with a towel wrapped around his waist. It takes another thirty minutes for his clothes to dry, just enough time for you to finally breathe now that he isn’t smiling at you.

Jaehyun had suggested to take the sofa for the night and you’re quick to say no when you realise that the sofa is literally half his height. His would suffer in the morning having to compromise his height like that the whole night. So that’s how you end up face to face with him on your single bed, faces and bodies just inches away from each other’s, warm and cozy under the sheets. He’s playing with strands of your hair (that has since dried) and it almost lulls you to sleep, if it weren’t for everything you wanted to say to him.

“I think I finally know what I want to do, Jae,” you mumble, your lids closed as he continues the ministrations of his fingers on your hair.

“Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“I want to paint.”

Memories of your childhood replay in your head, the long forgotten hobby re-igniting a spark of passion within you. No wonder the painting by the river earlier captivated you so much, it reminded you of something you had once felt so passionate about.

When Jaehyun doesn’t say anything and when he stops playing with your hair, you open your eyes to find him smiling at you, dimples showing, gaze on you soft, his happiness for you literally written on his face. So you scoot closer just as he welcomes you into his arms, feeling like you’re right in the place you’re meant to be.

“You are amazing,” he breathes.

“It’s taken me twenty five years to figure out what I want to do with my life Jae, what part of that is amazing?” you muse, tracing your index finger on his forehead to swipe a piece of hair away.

“And it’s taken me twenty six years to figure out what I want in mine,” Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s one year later than you. I think you’re doing a pretty great job y/n.”

You stare up at him, let your eyes linger on every single one of his features, your finger tracing the soft of his skin. He was even more beautiful up close. Jaehyun watches you closely, studying your expression of awe. Little do you know he had the exact same thoughts as you having you this close to him.

“Jae can we talk about what you said in the tower earlier?”

Jaehyun avoids your gaze and rests his forehead on yours, cuddling you even closer. “Please don’t remind me. That was not how I intended to confess, I swear.”

“But was it true? That you’re, you’re?”

“Yeah, it’s true. I am.”

“Jae look at me,” you say, cupping his cheek. “Please?”

So he opens his eyes and for a brief moment, you swear you see his pupils dilate when he gazes at you. Taking a deep breath, Jaehyun finally finishes off what he had started earlier but not before seeking approval from your eyes which he receives almost immediately.

“I realised that what I've wanted my whole life was to be understood, y/n, just for someone, anyone, to really see me. And I didn’t even realise I wanted that until you saw right through me.” Jaehyun was definitely something else.

“Remember what you said to me last year by the river? That I was so much more than my appearance, that I was way more than what people perceived me to be? I, I didn’t know I needed to hear that until I did. And that’s when I knew, you ripped the words right out of my mouth because finally, someone understood.” Jaehyun smiles softly at you, eyes unmoving the whole time he speaks.

“Someone finally saw me,” he finishes. “You saw me.”

In the silence of your thoughts and in the comfort of Jaehyun’s confession, you let yourself be brave one more time and allow yourself to fall, fall for the beautiful person he is through and through.

The word vulnerable reappears in your head along with the memory of Jaehyun asking the right questions to lead you to what you’ve learned about yourself in the past couple of weeks, maybe even the past few years. With every question came with some sort of an answer that led you closer to discovering just what you might really want in your life. And it gets you thinking that maybe you have been vulnerable before. Once you began looking for Jaehyun, was the exact same time you let him in.

You kept looking for him everywhere because with him, everything seemed to make more sense.

And even though you didn’t have the right words to tell him that for now, you hope that your lips would suffice for now, leaning upwards to catch his soft lips with yours, silently letting him know you felt the same way.

No words would be enough to describe how alive you feel, how alive Jaehyun makes you feel, awakening parts of you that have slept for far too long.

“Come back to Korea with me,” Jaehyun murmurs when you pull away, keeping yourself warm and safe in his embrace. “My friend’s getting married and I need a date. I want you to be my date.”

You laugh heartily, the sound echoing in the room.

“I would love to be your date, Jae.”

You were definitely not returning home just yet.

2K notes · View notes

akaashisbabygirl · 4 years ago

Text

make me yours

if you know the original source of this picture! please dm me or let me know in my inbox so i can tag them

A/n: I am so excited to finally post my first length fic. I wrote a fic before about mafia akaashi and reader falling in love, and this one is similar but different as they are rival rivals. Check that one out too if you enjoyed this one!! I’m considering making a part two if this leaves people wondering what’s going to happens next <3 I wrote this story in third person as it was easier for me, for anyone wondering

Words: 6005

Pairings: Mafia!Akaashi x Mafia!Reader

Warnings: nsfw, characters are aged up, sex, oral (giving and receiving), hickeys, vaginal penetration, fingering

“Akaashi Keiji...” Yamiji, the great boss of the Fukurōdani mafia called out, stopping the young-looking boy in his tracks.

“What is it, sir?” Akaashi asked, his handsome turquoise eyes moving to face his boss.

“I need your advice with something... come with me.”

Akaashi nodded, tailing his boss down the lengthy corridor of the mafia building and into the headquarters where the boss generally stayed. Standing with his arms behind his back, Akaashi gently fiddled with his fingers, anxiously waiting for what the boss had called him in for. No one usually comes in Yamiji’s office, not unless something is the matter that he needs to discuss with them about. Akaashi wondered if he had done anything wrong. He didn’t want to be kicked out of the mafia - where would he go?

“We are at what seems like a war with the Nekoma mafia...” Yamiji started.

“Shit... that’s not good,” Akaashi thought. he knew that Bokuto, his best friend in the mafia was somewhat friends with Kuroo, one of the members of the Nekoma mafia. The two boys were close, Akaashi knew that. He wondered how Bokuto was going to take the news that they are now at what felt like a war against each other.

“And we want to be victorious... as usual. So, I’ve been working on some things lately and I’ve come up with a plan on how we can get the first laugh,” Yamiji’s choices of words were interesting, according to Akaashi.

“What is it, sir?” he asked, eyes now opening fully to know about the situation.

“What if the person we take out first it Nekomata’s daughter, Y/n?”

Akaashi thought about it for a second, “That would work. She is the head of the mafia’s daughter. Her death would be problematic with the Nekoma mafia, but then I fear they would come after us if they found out that we were the ones who assassinated her.

“Yeah! About that, don’t worry, Akaashi. I’ve already figured out ways we could get away with it. First option was to make it look like Nekoma’s other rival - Nohebi. Make it seem like they were the ones who ordered the assassination of Nekomata’s daughter,” Yamiji explained, chuckling evilly at his own plans.

“I believe that would work, but I’m not sure. do you have someone who you’ve picked to assassinate her?” Akaashi asked, just out of curiosity.

“Oh... yeah. Actually, about that, I was wondering if you could be that person?” Yamiji asked.

Akaashi blinked a couple times, to make sure he wasn’t daydreaming.

“You want me to do... what?” Akaashi thought he was dreaming. This didn’t seem right. In the mafia, he was only respected for being the brains of the group – nothing more.

“I would like you to be the one who assassinates Y/n. Will that be alright with you? I know you’re busy and all...”

“Yeah- no, no it should be alright,” Akaashi knew that he wasn’t able to defy the boss. He had to do what he was assigned.

“Really? Thank you, Akaashi!”

“You’re welcome sir. I promise, I won’t fail you.”

__________________________________________

I promise, I won’t fail you

The words ran through Akaashi’s mind on repeat, just like an echo. His eyes sat fixated on the naked girl standing in the bedroom, admiring her stunning body in the large, wide mirror. He could admit it – she had a nice body, she was an attractive girl, but he rejected to believe that she was Nekomata’s daughter.

She looked nothing like that old man. Her hair was (your hair length) and (your hair colour). She was young, looking around his age, maybe even younger.

How hadn’t she noticed him yet?

The dark grey curtains were wide open, the vivid light from the bedroom obvious to anyone who was looking up at the tall building.

How hadn’t she noticed him yet?

The boy settled with a mask concealing his face, donned in black clothing, standing on her balcony watching her. Or did she notice him and was acting like she didn’t. Judging by her facial expressions – she didn’t.

Akaashi watched as she slipped on the small nightgown that lay on the chair next to the mirror. She looked… stunning. How the fuck was she Nekomata’s daughter? She couldn’t be, unless her father had hooked up with someone, or Y/n had just got all her mother’s looks – that would only make sense.

Akaashi’s turquoise eyes were set on her – why did she make his chest hurt. She was nothing like he’d ever seen before, blowing him away so quickly.

He noticed her body turn to the windows, walking over. Akaashi tried to hide. Fuck. Did she notice him? Was she coming out to confront him, or even attempt to kill him? He would’ve been classified as a creep if anyone saw him standing on her balcony. He tried to hide himself to the best of his ability, turning his back around to blend in with the dark night sky. He held his breath, his eyes carrying a sign of fear as he silently prayed that he wouldn’t get caught.

A sigh of relief escaped Akaashi’s precious lips as he heard the curtains shut and the footsteps of Y/n walking off.

“It’s time to get out of here…” he muttered to himself, his mind now forgetting about the original plan to murder Y/n tonight. He couldn’t do it. Not now at least. He couldn’t kill her while he was still unsure why she had been making him feel slightly different. Akaashi sighed to himself, climbing down the rope he had used to get up.

__________________________________________

“I’m sorry sir…” Akaashi bowed in front of Yamiji, his eyes clenched shut as he prepared himself for his punishment, “I-I couldn’t kill her… I don’t know why… but I couldn’t.”

Yamiji sighed, “I really thought you would be the perfect person for this task, Akaashi. But, that’s not a problem. I can always just take you off the job and find another one of the members in this mafia to go kill her. I’m sure they’ll do it without a second thought.”

“NO.”

Akaashi didn’t know why he was screaming at this point. He couldn’t tell someone why his eyes were widened with shock from hearing his own boss say he would take him off the job. He wanted to prove that he was able to do what he was ordered to – that he wasn’t scared to do what he was assigned. But, all that Akaashi wanted to know was why she made him feel… odd? Why was there an instant urge to protect her when Yamiji said he would get someone else on the job? Why did he think she looked so beautiful when she had been disposed of her clothes?

“S-Sir… just let me have this job… please. I will go back whenever I can and try to kill her. Just please, let me have this job,” Akaashi silently mumbled, trying to conceal his inner feelings, fearing what his own boss would think of him for the way he acted.

“I’m going to leave you on the job, Akaashi. But you must promise me that you will kill her.”

“Yes sir. I promise.”

__________________________________________

“What’s with you, Akaashi?” Bokuto asked, his hand colliding with Akaashi’s back, almost making him choke on his water, “I heard the boss has given you a task to do… something important even.”

Akaashi sat his glass down on the table as his best friend went to sit across from him.

“You could say that.”

“What is it?” Bokuto asked in a curious tone.

“I… have to assassinate Nekomata’s daughter.”

“Nekomata’s daughter? Wait… from the Nekoma mafia?” Bokuto’s golden eyes widened in shock.

Akaashi only nodded I response.

“BRO. THAT’S SUCH AN IMPORTANT TASK.”

“Quiet down!”

“Oops… sorry. But, seriously Akaashi. I can’t believe it. You’ve been given such an important task, considering that we’re currently in war with the Nekoma mafia!”

__________________________________________

Akaashi stood on the silver balcony once more, peering into the room that Y/n stood in once again. This time, she was dressed fully in black clothing, similar to him. He hid his gun from himself, only threating to actually use it if someone did catch him standing up there.

There was no way in hell he could kill her. He didn’t have the guts to. At this point in life, Akaashi could only stand there and watch the beautiful girl who stood on the other end of the door. Her (your hair colour) hair was spread across the pillow on her bed, her attention drawn to her phone. Akaashi still wondered if she knew he were there – hopefully she didn’t.

He was sure of it now. Sure, that he didn’t want her dead. He wanted to keep seeing her like this. Keep watching her from her balcony like a stalker. He loved the way she sat on her bed, her (your hair colour) hair spread out on the pillow behind you, your attention directed to your phone. Akaashi sighed in defeat – there wasn’t going to be any way for him to get you to notice him, and it wouldn’t be long before Yamiji hired someone else to murder you.

He couldn’t fall in love.

He knew he couldn’t, because if anything were to ever happen to you, he would be heartbroken. Akaashi sighed. As much as he wanted to continue to stare at your beautiful features, he knew he couldn’t stay here for long. He would have to leave eventually.

__________________________________________

Kuroo sat in his chair, his feet up on the table as he whistled while Y/n walked by. Y/n rolled her eyes, ignoring him to the best of her ability.

“Hey kitten,” the tall, black haired boy smirked.

Y/n rolled her eyes, trying to walk past, only to have the boy grab onto her wrist. She struggled to free her wrist, but Kuroo was stronger than her, so really, there was no use.

“Let go of me, Kuroo,” she demanded, an angry tone filling her soft voice.

“Kitten… you know you want me to be with you. Come on. Why waste your time on some random boy when you can just be with me. You know I’ll treat you like the queen you are,” Kuroo winked.

She would only roll her eyes in response. It had become a regular occurrence where Kuroo would come up to her and suggest a relationship. However, she never wanted to be in a relationship – not now at least, and most definitely not with him. She was sick of being in the mafia with Kuroo, he was too much of a flirt. It made her a target of his, being the only girl in the Nekoma mafia.

“You say that, Kuroo, but the last girl you were in a relationship with, you cheated on her.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t special. I just wanted to be with you, kitten.”

“I’m not taking any of your bullshit, Kuroo. I’ve told you at least a hundred, or even a thousand times, I do not want to be in a relationship with you. now, leave me the fuck alone. Father wants to see me for something!” you argued back, pulling your wrist from Kuroo’s grasp and storming off.

“Fucking bitch,” Kuroo muttered underneath his breath.

Y/n made her way as quick as possible up to her father’s office. She knew that if she wasn’t fast, Kuroo was going to come right after her. She didn’t want that – she didn’t want him. By this point, she was sick and tired of him and his bullshit. He would confess his love to her one day, and that exact night he’d be pulling a new girl into his bedroom and fucking her. It became obvious to her eyes that Kuroo really wasn’t interested, and she herself wasn’t planning on spending anytime waiting around for a boy who was unsure of his feelings.

Her body stood outside the dark, wooden doors of her father’s office. Her soft fingertips pressed against the keypad, typing in the special passcode of the office that only he gave her. The doors automatically opened, her father’s figure sitting at his desk now being visible to her (your eye colour) eyes.

“Hello Y/n,” her father’s evil smirk appeared onto his old face.

“What have you called me here for, father?” she never liked being called into her father’s office for long. She wanted to do her own thing, not sit around and listen to her father’s bullshit every once in a while.

“Oh, I see you’re jumping straight to the point.”

“Precisely. So, what is it that you want from me today?”

Nekomata took a breath before speaking again, “I have a task for you, my precious girl. You know how we are currently at war with the Fukurōdani mafia? I believe they’re going to send an assassin from their shitty group to come after one of our members… and their smartest member, Akaashi, would be a perfect first start for us.”

“What’s the thing with Akaashi?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s the smartest one in their group. If we’re able to kill him first, the Fukurōdani mafia should knew not to mess with us.”

“Why exactly do you want me to be the one who kills Akaashi? Why can’t you pick someone else like Kenma or maybe even Kuroo? You know both of them would love to have that job.”

“Because both boys seem to have a slight friendship with Akaashi and Bokuto. They would both hesitate to take their so-called friend’s life, that is why I’m entrusting this mission to you, my sweet girl,” Nekomata explained.

You could only scoff, folding your arms as you stared at your father.

“So, what do you say, my dear? Will you be up to the task, or should I call someone else to do it for you?” her father asked.

He knew she loved to take on a challenge, which is why he threatened to give the job to someone else if she wasn’t up to it. He knew his ways to get what he wanted, and in times of need, he wouldn’t forget about these ways. Nekomata always got what he wanted.

“I will.”

__________________________________________

Y/n stood at her mirror, admiring her body. Her beautiful hair had been tied up in a lower ponytail, enough to keep it out of her face. Her body was draped with black clothing, mainly pants and a shirt, a belt strapped around her waist which was to hold her weapons.

She sighed; her eyes still focused on your body in the mirror. How did she end up in his position? How did she go from such an innocent girl to someone who took other people’s lives without any care in the world?

Quickly, she fled from her apartment, making her way to the address of this Akaashi fellow’s home.

Where he lived was such a beautiful place. Why was she feeling this way? Why was she imminently drawn to the place where he called home?

She climbed up the balcony with the rope she stored in her backpack. Resting herself on Akaashi’s balcony, she noticed the curtains of his apartment only slightly opened. Peeking inside, she could see the flashes of the TV screen lighting up the dark room, making out the figure of a boy sitting up against the bed head.

He had a dull look on his face – almost as if he was upset for some reason. Why did he look like that? Slowly she shook her head. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. Not at all. Her mind should’ve only been focused on the boy she was assigned to kill.

But why did she want to hold him so badly?

He looked young – just a little older than her. He had beautiful, messy, black hair, a decent body, dressed in a dark coloured shirt and some grey sweatpants. He was a good-looking boy. Y/n could only shake her head again.

Stop, stop, stop, stop. Why are you thinking like this, Y/n?

She shook her head, trying to throw the thoughts form her mind. That didn’t work. Her soft, (your eye colour) eyes sat focused on Akaashi, watching his every movement. She needed the right moment for when he was unarmed to go into the room and attack him. It wasn’t her first kill – so it was nothing new to her. She knew what she was doing.

She sat on his balcony, watching him for what felt like an hour before she noticed the boy get up from his spot on the bed. He walked down the corridor, shutting one of the doors behind him. He was probably using the restroom.

She used that opportunity to sneak into the apartment. How careless of this boy? Leaving the door unlocked for anyone to secretly walk in without him even realising. Quietly, she shut the glass door behind her, turning around to find a place to hide. She didn’t think about the situation. Where was she going to hide? What was she going to do? She didn’t think of anything properly at all.

“Just as I expected,” Her body jumped, hearing the voice of a man in the bedroom.

Anxiously, she turned around to find Akaashi standing behind her, his arms folded and a glare spreading over his face. She was able to see him more clearly now – he did indeed have a beautiful looking face. He was a beautiful boy.

When her father had first brought him up, she thought that he was going to be an older looking man, someone who had been in the mafia for several years – but her thoughts were wrong. Too wrong.

Akaashi stepped forward, only causing her to step back, trying her best to get away from him. These actions continued, until the back of her legs met with the edge of Akaashi’s bed. Why wasn’t she drawing her gun? She had it on her right now, she could use it to protect herself, but she didn’t.

Akaashi was now standing directly in front of her, chest against chest. Her body had lost all of its control. Akaashi’s hands flew up, pushing her down onto the bed. She wasn’t fighting back, not at all. She was completely mesmerised by this boy, by the way he acted and what he looked like. He was nothing compared to the Akaashi who she had imagined.

Akaashi kneeled onto the bed, pinning her tiny body underneath his large frame. His hands pinned her wrists down onto the sheets.

“You’re Y/n Nekomata,” how was his voice attractive too?

Why did she sound like she was falling for him?

“H-How do you know who I am?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Because, my boss asked me to assassinate you. And now, you show up outside my apartment, even going as far to sneak into my apartment? You’re so rude, Y/n. I never once broke into your apartment when I was there,” he smirked.

Son of a bitch.

Why was he like this?

Why did his words create a blush that began to spread across her face? She didn’t like it when Kuroo touched her, pinning her to the wall or even trying anything remotely sexual with her, but she was fine with being pinned underneath the body of the man she was assigned to kill.

“Y-You’ve been to my apartment?” She didn’t know what else to say at this point. She had become absolutely speechless.

Akaashi stayed absolutely silent. She could only wonder now. Was Akaashi also assigned to assassinate her?

“I think it’s time you leave.”

The heartbreaking words that she didn’t want to hear fell from Akaashi’s lips.

However, she didn’t want to leave. Y/n wanted to stay pinned underneath his gorgeous body for as long as she could. She wanted to be close to him, bodies touching with the minimum lighting in the bedroom. Was she attracted to him? Maybe. Because, if this feeling was a normal feeling, why didn’t she feel the same way when it came to Kuroo, someone who she wasn’t ordered to kill from a rival mafia? Did the thrill of herself getting caught by someone with the man you’ve been assigned to kill thrill her in some way? Maybe. But honestly, she didn’t even know herself.

“C-Can you get off me first?” She asked, a small, playful chuckle leaving her lips.

Akaashi only smirked before letting go of her wrists, standing up and watching her pull herself from her laying down position. She readjusted her hair, grabbing her small bag that had fallen to the floor when he pinned her down.

She jumped, feeling a hand slip underneath her shirt and to her belt, grabbing the gun. Her head turned with widened eyes towards Akaashi, with her gun now sitting in his hand.

“I’ll be taking this from now on.”

He was truly a smart boy. A boy that she now wanted to meet again. She couldn’t kill him – especially not when he ignited some sort of fire inside of her body that she thought she lost.

__________________________________________

Y/n stood on the balcony once again, just like the week before. The curtains had been opened a little more this time. Akaashi was in the same position as last time, his back pressed up against the headboard as the glowing lights from the TV brought light to the dark room.

She could only sit and watch. She wanted to be caught by him again – if he would ever notice her. Y/n sat and watched; her eyes sitting focused on the boy who seemed to have no idea that she was there.

Y/n watched as his hand came into contact with the remote, pressing the pause button. He got up from his resting spot, walking over to the window.

He was coming towards her.

She didn’t know if she should move or stay and wait for him to find her. She wanted to feel him again, she wanted to be close to him. Even though, right now the smartest option was to move and leave before he could find her.

But she couldn’t move.

The curtains were drawn open, her face now meeting with Akaashi once again. The glass door slid open, Akaashi’s hand moving out to grab onto her wrist tightly, pulling her into the room. He pushed her towards the side, locking the door and shutting the curtains. He couldn’t have anyone seeing the two of them together.

“You haven’t been here in a week. I was starting to think you had gotten bored of me,” Akaashi smiled as he rested the palm of his hand on her cheek.

“My father wanted to spend some time with me, so I’ve been at his mansion for the last week,” she answered.

Seeing him like this, she was able to notice his height. He was tall, taller than her. She had to move her head up, just so she was able to stare into his turquoise coloured eyes.

“You keep coming back. Why is that?” Akaashi asked.

“I have to kill you…”

She has to kill him. That was what she was assigned. But she couldn’t. He had taken her only gun away from her the first time the two met face to face. It was childish of her to keep running back to the same guy she shouldn’t be with.

“You won’t.”

“What do you mean, I won’t?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“You won’t kill me.”

“Of course, I will. Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

“You’re here right now. You let yourself get caught.”

He wasn’t wrong. This is what her dad meant when he said that Akaashi was smart.

“Y-You…”

Akaashi smirked, leaning forward and pressing his lips onto her own. His lips were soft, but his kiss was strong and filled with passion. Her mind had gone completely blank, unable to focus properly. She returned the kiss, letting him slip his tongue past her lips.

This was wrong.

She pulled her lips from his, her mouth slowly parted as she looked up at him. She wanted him to tell her to stay, so she could get to know him. She wanted to stay. She didn’t want to leave him again. Akaashi had tugged at her heart strings harshly, and now, she didn’t know what to do without him.

“You need to leave. You can’t keep coming back here.”

She felt her heart sink.

__________________________________________

Y/n’s hands flew to his black hair. Her legs began to feel shaky as she came into contact with the back of the bed. Akaashi only pushed her forward, her back now meeting with the soft sheets of the bed

It had been weeks since he first kissed her. Weeks of her sneaking back to his apartment because she desperately needed to see him. It had been the same with Akaashi too. There had been days where he made his way over to her apartment, sitting on her balcony and watching as she fell asleep, making sure she was safe.

Truth was – he didn’t want her to leave.

He knew she wasn’t, as she kept appearing at his apartment. He continued to let her in, as he started to realise, he was falling for her. It was obvious that she was falling for him too; especially with the small blush that would appear onto her face when he would touch her or kiss her.

His hands moved to her wrists, pinning them down tightly onto the bed once more. Akaashi’s lips moved from her lips, down to her neck, sucking on her soft, delicate skin. Soft pants flew from her lips as he found her sweet spot.

His lips began to suck on her collar bone, hands desperately tugging on her black shirt, desperate for the material to come off.

“C-Can I?”

Even though she was from a rival mafia gang, he still wanted to take his time with her. He wanted her to feel safe in his arms.

“Y-Yeah…”

Instantly, he slipped the black shirt from her body, revealing her lace, black bra. It was almost as if she had planned for this exact moment.

“You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?” He smirked, burying his head into her chest.

Akaashi’s hands flew to her back, unclasping her bra. He pulled away, throwing her bra onto the floor where the rest of her clothes lay, discarded somewhere on the wooden floorboards. Her hands flew to cover her breasts from his eyes, but Akaashi only held onto her hands, pinning them back down onto the bed. He noticed the small blush which began to sit on her cheeks, due to her chest being exposed to the boy she was supposed to kill.

This was stupid of her, to be all exposed, needy and wet for him. She had been assigned to go kill him, not sleep with him. It wasn’t her first-time having sex, she wasn’t a virgin, and it wasn’t the first time she and Akaashi had done something sexual. He had fingered her, gone down on her, and she’d even given him a blowjob. However, the two of them had never gone the full way before, and she wanted that to change tonight.

She wanted him to take her and make her his.

Akaashi’s soft lips wrapped around her nipple, sucking lightly. Her head was thrown back against the pillows, her breathing heavy, chest rising and her lips slightly parted. Akaashi switched his attention to her other nipple, a small whine leaving her lips.

“Keep your hands where they are. I don’t want to have to tie you to the headboard.”

She did as she was told. It was funny with how quickly Akaashi could pull her down into submission. His hands unbuttoned her pants, pulling the zipper down, tugging the black material down her legs. He pulled his own shirt off, throwing it to the pile of clothes on the floor, along with her pants. Akaashi pressed soft kisses onto the inside of her thigh, before coming into contact with her matching black, lace panties. He ran his finger along her clothed womanhood, a small moan falling from her lips. She was wet, soaking even.

“You’re soaking for me, baby.”

He slipped her panties down her legs, throwing them to the floor as he spread her legs apart for him. Her legs sat spread wide, her slick evident to his eyes. Akaashi dipped his head down to her womanhood, licking a strip around her folds, collecting her wetness on his tongue. His tongue pushed into her cunt, a louder moan falling from her lips. His lips moved up, sucking on her clit as his fingers toyed with her entrance. From how wet she was, he was able to push two fingers into her cunt. He dragged them along her tight walls, curling them inside which earned a sharp moan to fall from her lips.

Her body was sensitive to Akaashi’s touch. She craved him more than he craved her. Her hips bucked up as he was able to slip another finger inside of her, stretching her out for him. Akaashi’s fingers were long and slim, decorated with beautiful veins which stood out. His fingers hit spots deep inside of her. Her walls clenched tightly around Akaashi’s fingers, moans slipping from her lips as she lost control of her body.

“G-Gonna cum…” her voice was shaky, legs shaking as her climax washed over her like a wave.

Akaashi removed his fingers from her cunt, watching how her cum had coated his fingers. He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking on her cum. He watched as she tried to hide her face from him.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded.

Following orders, she moved onto her knees, watching how Akaashi now set himself up against the bed head, his legs spread as he stroked his clothed boner, “You know what to do.”

She crawled in between his legs, hands moving to unzip his pants, tugging them down his legs, along with his boxers. Her eyes came into contact with his member once again. She threw his clothes to the floor, her mouth moving down to wrap her lips around his length. Akaashi’s hand sat on top of her forehead, helping her take more of him into her mouth. She maintained eye contact with him as she went down on him

“Rub your clit for me, baby. Make yourself cum,” Akaashi moaned out.

She followed orders once again, rubbing her clit. Pleasure spread throughout her body as her wet cunt clenched around nothing. She could feel her arousal dripping down her thighs, her legs shaking as her clit became sensitive. Being sensitive, her climax built up almost quickly, her cum now shooting from her cunt, dripping down her legs and onto Akaashi’s bedsheets.

She felt horrible for ruining his sheets, but her mind was filled with lust and need for him to even consider apologising. Akaashi pulled his length from her lips, watching as drool began to slip from her lips.

Akaashi grabbed onto her hips, lining her up above his erect length. He helped push her down, her walls clenching tightly around his length. He knew she wasn’t a virgin, so he didn’t care much about making sure if it hurt or not. She clenched her eyes shut for a second. He was the biggest she had ever taken. He helped her take all of him in, before pulling her off of him. A small gasp left her lips as she was thrown back down against the bed, her legs being wrapped around Akaashi’s waist as he began to thrust into her.

He took his anger on the mafia out on her, tearing her tight cunt open with every thrust of his hips. The room began to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, loud moans falling from her lips as deep groans fell from Akaashi’s. He hated the fact that they were both assigned to kill each other, but they both couldn’t. he couldn’t accept the thought that she had to die, that she had to be killed in order for the Fukurōdani mafia to scare off the Nekoma mafia.

He wanted to be with her. She wanted to be with him.

He loves her. She loves him.

But they can’t be together. They can’t be seen in public. They can’t hang around and hold hands and make love to each other. They were rivals, but they were in love. Rivals in love. Two people who were exact opposites were in love. They were drawn to each other, desperate for each other. They needed each other to survive.

“A-Akaashi… I-I love y-you,” she moaned out without any care in the world.

Akaashi’s heart felt as it had stopped. Did she really just say that?

She wanted to hide the fact that she was in love with him, but now that her mind had been clouded with the feelings of love, passion and lust, she wasn’t able to conceal her feelings towards him.

“I love you too,” he groaned out, fingers moving to rub harsh circles on her clit while his lips moved to suck on her neck.

“C-Cumming… Akaashi.”

“M-Me too.”

The two both climaxed together, Akaashi’s seed shooting inside of her. He began to panic, knowing he didn’t pull out and that he wasn’t sure if she was on birth control or not. He pulled out of her, going to the bathroom to grab a towel as the thought ran through his mind. What the fuck did he just do?

He grabbed the wet towel, cleaning in between her legs.

“You need to go home…” Akaashi mumbled under his breath. He didn’t want her to leave. He wanted her to stay and spend the rest of the night with him, but he knew how dangerous it was for her to stay.

“I don’t want to leave. I want to stay with you! And- I-I don’t think I can walk.”

With the way her soft eyes were looking at him, soft and serious, he couldn’t say no. Instead, Akaashi pulled the bedsheets over her naked body, covering her and himself. Akaashi let his head rest on the pillow, her hands moving to rest on his chest as she curled up to his side, falling into a deep slumber.

__________________________________________

“Hey kitten,” Kuroo smirked.

She was sick and tired of Kuroo now. She wanted to scream and tell him that she’s in love with another boy. That she had sex with another boy and tell him that he needed to leave her alone or she would kill him.

But she couldn’t.

“How’s the mission going, kitten? Actually, killed him yet?” Kuroo smirked.

She wanted to scream. She couldn’t kill him.

“Just leave me alone Kuroo, I don’t want your pity.”

He only chuckled, “Suit yourself, kitten.”

He pushed her up against the wall, hands pinning hers to the cold, wooden wall, “Though, I will make you mine, if you like it or not.”

“You can’t.”

Kuroo tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Someone has already made me theirs,” she smirked.

“That’s bullshit. Everyone in the mafia knows that you’re going to belong to me, and only me. No one would be stupid enough to touch you without my permission. You’re lying!”

It was almost as if Kuroo was trying to convince himself that she still was going to be with him, that she hadn’t been taken by someone who was going to love her more than he ever could.

“Pull the bandage from my neck and look. There is your proof.”

Kuroo tugged the bandage from around her neck. His eyes widened, noticing the dark purple marks which decorated her neck.

“Where the fuck did you get these?”

“From the boy who made me his, Kuroo.”

Kuroo threw the bandage to the floor in anger, “You fucking slut.”

“Correction. His slut,” you chuckled, watching as Kuroo stormed off in anger.

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