#then after that. might reply to all the comments on my fic also from last june

[elftwink]

every few months or so i have to reach out to someone i inexplicably stopped speaking to for literally no reason at all and in my mind this doesn't impact the nature of our relationship in the slightest (i think ive seen a post floating around on here that phrases this like "i don't have a friendship decay mechanic" and thats pretty accurate to me as well) but it is literally so scary because other people definitely can feel negatively about this complete gap in interaction and read into it my intentions (or worse when its due to memory issues do that thing where theyre like "if it was important you would remember ergo i am not important to you") and its like idk how explain that life is just moving to damn fast like to me we may as well have been talking yesterday... makes me very sad because on the one hand people have a right to feel that way and i understand that it can feel like your time is being wasted or that the other person doesn't respect you enough to get back to you (because also. some people do deliberately ignore messages for these reasons unfortunately)

but on the other hand. for me i feel like im always on the back foot because i just dont have the capacity to actually keep up with everyone, and i barely have the capacity to do the apology rounds every few months. also i hate the apology rounds because even if i have every intention of keeping up with people it always slips. i dont think i was meant to live in a world with instant messaging i think we should go back to snail mail. i would also be bad at replying to people with it but at least i would have a better excuse

also sometimes im just like i must be inventing problems when i write replies to people like an email on average takes me 4 hours or so to compose if given my own time. for time sensitive work emails it's still at least half an hour to an hour, which is also about the time it takes me to compose a text message to someone (unless i see it right away and stream of consciousness my answer without thinking then i can do it in 2 minutes but if i dont do this at the exact moment i see the text i cannot do it at a later time). during this process it feels impossible to speed up but its obviously ridiculous for two emails to take the time of an entire work day. also i have to take a break after sending an email or text like it is genuinely really draining and there is just no way it takes this much time or energy for anyone else because if it did we would have made texting illegal by now. but at the same time no single component of writing an email/text is that obviously difficult or energy intensive so im like sweating blood for hours to produce something that looks like it took 3 1/2 minutes maximum like what is wrong with meeeeeee

also no i didnt send my email yet im procrastinating by writing this post. perhaps this is also contributing to my extremely long composition times :/ ok bye everyone if i post again in the next hour and it does say "yay i sent my email" or something of the like please yell at me

[lowkeyren]

NOT EVERYONE KNOWS!

in which — being in a secret relationship with them but they’re all idiots

featuring — dan feng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 2.6k, from event req: here!, debut fic for my milestone event yippee, they keep fumbling but it’s ok cus they’re hot, reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!! <3

#DAN FENG

+ wait… since when are you guys married?!

dan feng? i just know he’s gonna mess this shit up so badly. he’s the high elder, but also the epitome of boyfailure. he really can’t help it, those terms of endearment just slip out so easily when you're by his side.

and it doesn’t stop there. he’s completely oblivious to the shocked silence and wide-eyed stares from others; for example, he might be holding your hand absentmindedly while discussing serious matters, and only snaps back to reality when you cough awkwardly.

but unfortunately, it’s not that simple when the gang (re: high cloud quintet) find out about your relationship. disclaimer: chaos ensues

dan feng immediately sits up upon seeing you enter the room, a fresh batch of tea brewing in hand. the discussion among the group gradually fades into the background as his eyes trail your figure while you carefully pour tea into each person’s teacup.

the piquant aroma fills his senses, and he can’t stop a small smile from creeping across his face when you take a seat next to him. he takes a sip, the delicate flavor enveloping his taste buds, leaving behind a delightful aftertaste that lingers long after the tea is swallowed. 

“—thus we require a substantial amount of time, speaking of which, anything on your end dan feng?” 

he finds himself watching you out of the corner of his eye. “imbibitor lunae…?” and it’s almost impossible for him to tear his gaze away from you. 

“hello? dan feng?” he snaps back to reality, blinking a few times before processing the initial question. “a-ahem, yes. darling, could you pass me the report?” he says, turning to your side.

the room falls silent, and a shocked gasp escapes from baiheng's mouth before jingliu clasps a hand over it; jing yuan shifts in his seat, exchanging a bewildered glance with yingxing. 

“hm..? did you forget to bring it?” his tone is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the shocked expression on everyone’s face. “are you alright my dear? your face is quite red, do y—”

before he can finish, you manage to find your voice, trying to mask your embarrassment with a strained smile. “no, i didn’t forget the report, and i’m perfectly fine…  though our friends might need a minute to recover.” 

baiheng, still wide-eyed, blurts out, “hold on, are you guys… in a relationship?” 

dan feng blinks in confusion ”oh, did i forget to mention that part?” —to which you hear someone across the table audibly facepalm. 

you sigh, voice strained but laced with amusement, “i can’t believe you never told them we got married.” your words are followed by the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.

“wait… since when are you guys married?!” you pat jingyuan’s back, trying to stifle a laugh. “since last year.”

“seriously, and you never thought of telling us.”

“it was an honest mistake, yingxing.” dan feng replies, crossing his arms defensively.

baiheng shakes her head, “an honest mistake? like forgetting to water your plants, not like forgetting to tell us you got married!”

“well congratulations, i suppose. though a heads-up would’ve been nice.” jingliu manages a wry smile, though she internally cringes at baiheng’s exaggerated (or not) reaction, opting to just let her be. 

"sorry, it slipped my mind.” dan feng's nonchalant shrug only serves to further fuel jingyuan's irk, his eye visibly twitching; yingxing lets out a groan, still reeling from the revelation. you can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene unfolding, taking a sip of your tea. 

“you weren’t planning to tell us at all?!”

"honest mistake."  you can tell he’s just teasing his friends by the way a small smirk appears on his face as he attempts to hide it behind his teacup. (you nearly had to restrain baiheng as she tried to leap over the table.)

well, it seems like you’re not going to get anything done today.

#BLADE

+ easy, just buy me a nice ring and leave the lying part to me.

please. if you had a penny for every time blade almost exposes that you’re dating, you’d have three pennies. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened thrice. 

the first time was when he received a call from you while in the car with firefly. he answered almost immediately, without realizing that wearing earphones does not necessarily mean he isn't able to be heard in real life, just that others can’t hear what he’s listening to. 

“went to boomerville n the locals said they knew u” —silverwolf, probably.

second was when someone confessed their feelings to you, and he “instinctively” jumped in to say you have a husband. "what husband? i don't see a ring on your finger." so now, that same man won't stop asking you about this so-called “husband” (that doesn’t exist). 

and third time, well we’ll see.

“are you sure you don’t want me to kill him.” 

you huff out in annoyance, “this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t mentioned i had a husband.” sighing, you push yourself off the bed and turn to face your boyfriend.

“...that aside, how exactly do you plan on handling him?” blade raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “easy! just buy me a nice ring, and leave the lying part to me.”

if blade hadn’t seriously considered taking care of the man before, he certainly seems determined to do so now. “hey what’s with that reaction…”

blade’s eyes narrow as he takes in your response. “a ring huh, what are you going to do with it?” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “what else? pretend i have a husband.” 

he sighs, “is this really the best solution you can come up with?” (he really doesn't like the idea of you having a husband…that isn’t him, fake or not)  “yup!” you reply with a grin, “i’ll be eagerly awaiting the ‘surprise’!” with that, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek and swiftly exit the room.

oh you’re lucky he loves you. (even though this is totally, 100% his fault)

—

“hmm, bladie? why the sudden interest in jewellery?” kafka smirks, curiosity dancing in her eyes. blade chooses to stay silent, picking out the most expensive ring; and kafka’s expression only broadens with amusement as she watches his intense scrutiny of the display.

“planning something special, are we?” she teases, leaning closer. “or are you just trying to impress someone?”

blade finally glances up, his face inscrutable. “just taking care of business.” he replies tersely, slipping the ring onto the counter along the pile of designer jackets. 

“right… well, i’ll be interested to see how this turns out.”

—

“what?” the man in front of you asks, his confusion evident. 

you tilt your head slightly, trying to gauge his reaction. “you seem surprised. did you think i was joking?” you casually brush a strand of hair away, subtly flaunting the ring to him —and to any onlookers; trying not to crack a smile when you hear a loud gasp followed by a flurry of hushed whispers.

he grits his teeth, clearly embarrassed and humiliated by the commotion. “i didn’t expect you to be married… especially since you never wear the ring.”

“or is it that you’re not all that attached to your husband?” the audacity of this man… just as you’re at a loss of words, a firm hand grips the man’s shoulder from behind.

blade yanks the man back, and away from you. “you’re pushing your luck.”  the sudden motion causes the man to stumble, his face pale with a mix of surprise and fear.

“w-who the hell are you?!” the man’s voice trembles as he tries to regain his composure. meanwhile, you notice a crowd beginning to form around you, with some people eagerly pulling out their phones to record the escalating drama.

“leave, now.” you can tell blade’s patience is wearing thin, dangerously so.

the man’s eyes narrow in defiance. “why should i? you’re the one to talk when you’re hiding behind a disguise.” blade pins the man with a steely gaze, his intense stare making the man stiffen under its weight.

but what you didn’t expect was for blade to turn around, remove his mask and letting it dangle from one ear; he then raises your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss upon it.

the man’s face immediately drains of colour, and the crowd around you erupts into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs. you’re not sure whether he's more shocked by blades' bold gesture or by the fact that a notorious criminal is standing right in front of him. (its the latter)

the man, now visibly shaken, scrambles away, yelling out a “sorry!” before disappearing into the crowd. blade pulls you away, ignoring the flashes of cameras and ducks into a nearby alley.

the next morning, you wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone. you discover the group chat flooded with messages from your friends.

“@barcodewrist @[you] explain yourselves”

“Bladie, so that was what the ring was for~” 

“bro i cant believe this old ass man has rizz”

you quickly type out a message asking for context, in which you only receive a link from silverwolf. as you click in, you can’t help but wish you can unsee what’s on the screen.

“‘YOUR NAME’, IDENTIFIED IN ASSOCIATION WITH STELLARON HUNTER ‘BLADE’: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. BOUNTY SET AT 3.5 BILLION.” and attached below is a video of what transpired yesterday. 

“great” you mutter under your breath, “not only am i dating a wanted criminal, now i'm one too.” you shoot a quick message to the group chat “any tips on staying out of trouble when your boyfriend’s a fugitive? asking for a friend... and my sanity.”

on the bright side, at least you’ll be greeted by a very pleased blade, now publicly acknowledged as your husband —oh and don’t question the second ring on your finger.

#JING YUAN

+ stop you're not allowed to smile at me like that. / like what?

how do i even start. he’s so smug, please throw a rock at him and wipe that “:3” off his face.

you really do sometimes wonder if jing yuan ever truly intended to keep this relationship a secret, especially by how he practically transforms into a lovesick puppy whenever you’re within a 10 meter radius. 

goodluck because he's also such a tease, an insufferable one. despite that, you can’t deny there’s something endearing about how he always seems to light up when you’re around, his constant teasing remarks making it harder to stay mad whenever you call him out for being “too lax”. 

after all, he may be a headache, but he’s your headache —one that comes with a hefty dose of affection and a penchant for making every single moment spent together memorable.

being the general’s secretary, and his lover isn’t an easy job. 

you’re focused on the task before you; reviewing documents, scheduling meetings, coordinating logistics for high-stakes missions —ensuring no crucial information slips through the cracks. 

but you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes boring into you. it’s a subtle sensation, a weight that pulls your awareness away from the task at hand. you glance up from your desk, only to be met by jing yuan’s gaze, fixed on you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“jing yuan, what are you doing?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer. though a smile slowly spreads across his face as he continues to watch you. his overwhelming stare makes it difficult to concentrate…

and worse? he looks utterly and hopelessly in love.

“stop, you're not allowed to smile at me like that.” the words come out softer than intended; he leans in slightly, the warmth in his expression only deepening.

“and why not?” he asks, his voice carries a hint of amusement. the twinkle in his eyes suggests that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it only adds to your annoyance. 

“because” you reply, trying to sound exasperated, “you’re looking at me as if you’re in love with me or something!” —and your handsome face makes it impossible to focus.

jing yuan’s smile only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction. “is that so? i didn’t realise my smile had such an effect on you.” (you hope his pants catch on fire because he’s obviously lying about being unaware of the effect his presence has on you)

“and i am in love with you.” 

that, in fact, did not ease the fluttering in your chest. “shh!” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand; you hold your grip for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of his breath against your palm.

“hmm… so i can't even look at my beloved partner now?” his voice comes out slightly muffled and distorted due to your playful assault on his face. you give his cheek one last, harsh pinch before finally letting him go.

you heave a sigh of relief once you’re sure no one heard anything, you loosen your grip but keep your palm resting on his face. with a playful pinch, you squeeze his cheek. “you tease!” you furrow your brows, though a small smile tugs at your lips despite your effort to remain stern.

you shake your head with a smile, “do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when you’re looking at me like that?” the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks.

“i know,” he replies with a grin, “and i wouldn’t change a thing.”

jing yuan rests his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on your desk; the warmth of his gaze and the cheeky grin on his face makes it hard to stay frustrated at him. 

“you’re impossible,” you say with a mock scowl, though your tone carries a lighthearted edge. “but it’s also hard to stay mad at you.”

he chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. he leans in a bit more, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh? then would you like to head out—”

“you wish.” you cut him off with a deadpan look, “that stack of papers has been sitting there since this morning, and it’s not going to magically sort itself out.”

you gesture toward the mountain of documents on your desk, which has only grown throughout the day. he sighs, settling himself comfortably into the seat beside you. you pick up your pen as you try to regain your focus again amidst the lingering warmth of his presence.

this time, you really do consider throwing a rock at him when his head falls on your shoulder as he dozes off just five minutes later.

but hey, at least he makes it clear that he’s head over heels for you, even if it comes with a side of embarrassment, and a few near heart attacks. 

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

[reiderwriter]

Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)

Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.

Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)

Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.

Word Count: 3.8k

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K

Part two!

After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC. 

That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future. 

You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field. 

It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe). 

She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.” 

You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all. 

The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat. 

Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab. 

-X-

The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.

“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.

“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?” 

“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly. 

“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder. 

It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes. 

She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things. 

You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused. 

Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen. 

As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general. 

It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies. 

“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face. 

“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day. 

It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.  

Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way. 

A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips.  When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping  his bag a little tighter to him. 

“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.” 

“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?” 

“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”

“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”

He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away. 

-X-

“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk. 

“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.” 

You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent. 

The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable. 

Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.

It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional. 

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.

He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence. 

“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.

“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”

“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading. 

“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time. 

“S-Spencer, I’m serious.”  He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him. 

“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”

Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply. 

“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away. 

But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.  

“She said I would what, beautiful?”

He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could. 

But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond. 

“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”

“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?” 

And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.

“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.

-X-

You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space. 

Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen. 

After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you. 

He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office. 

In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt. 

To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat. 

You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you  grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention. 

“Leaving so soon, princess?”

“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same. 

“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer. 

“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.” 

You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line? 

He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you. 

“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move. 

“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before. 

His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face. 

“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again. 

“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”

“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist,  and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now. 

“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat. 

He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed. 

He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?” 

You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove. 

“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now 

“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.  

“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.  

“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind. 

You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day. 

“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?”  You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him. 

“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands.  Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands. 

“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night. 

-X-

[melancholy-of-nadia]

la la lost you (m) | cyj

title: la la lost you  pairing: yeonjun x f. reader  rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff, smut ; rivals to lovers au; fake relationship au summary: choi yeonjun was simply just your academic rival, competing for honors at graduation during your senior year. however, when one of your (distant) friends’ brothers is getting married, your 3 guy best friends all have dates to the event except you. in order not to feel like a loser, you decide to call up the only other tolerable male you know: Yeonjun, to be your fake date. what will happen when a childish fake date scheme actually ends up turning into your first real relationship lasting an entire summer. it may ultimately.. not end well. warnings: fluff, smut, language, underage drinking, summer fling, riding, fake relationship, oral s*x, car s*x, multiple dates, overprotective yoonminjoon, cameos of other idols, cumming, kisses, partying, angst, eventual break up note: this is a prequel one shot to the 'love u lately' series. however you don't need to read that series to understand this one shot. honestly might be better if you haven’t read it! it will heavily focus on the mentioned previous relationship reader had with yeonjun before starting college (which explains certain events and character thoughts in the series) and well as the perspectives of yoonminjoon and their attitudes towards it as they were still struggling with how they feel towards reader, which is explored in 'love u lately' I hope my btxt lovers can enjoy this fic! (please note that this is about 15% unedited, so apologies for any grammatical errors in advances) total word count: 21.5k drop date: September 13th, 2023 12:30PM PST ao3 link | fic is named after NIKI's song La La Lost You (2019)

–

Daniel Yeonjun Choi.

You encountered him in your Honors English class during freshman year, and somehow, he's always been in the same AP or Honors classes as you.

On the contrary, Jimin’s only been in five classes with you throughout high school. So this opened up and lot of time for you to get to know Yeonjun. He has been a constant presence after all, vying with you for the highest grades in your shared classes. He’s also very blunt and teased you a lot, just out of pure enjoyment to see your reaction. If he couldn’t beat you in academics, he found other ways to torture you.

"Wait you didn't go to prom?" Yeonjun's voice cut through the classroom, drawing the attention of your AP Government class.

You let out a sigh, trying to deflect the conversation. "Can we drop that? We have a project to work on," you said, gesturing towards the thick stack of papers detailing famous court cases.

Yeonjun persisted, his curiosity apparent. "But why didn't you go?" His tone bordered on obnoxious, earning a laugh from Mark, who sat nearby. Mark knew he was enabling his behavior, but didn’t care.

From what you recall, Jimin went to prom with some girl you don’t know. You didn’t have a date, nor close female friends without dates to spend the night at the Grand Strawberry Hill Golf Course. Tickets were $50. You would rather spend the night bussing down tables at the cafe you work out and use that money on something else. The list goes on.

"I just didn't feel like it, okay? Plus, I had work," you replied, hoping to end the discussion.

Yeonjun's response was simple but cutting. "Lame."

You rolled your eyes at Yeonjun's comment, feeling the urge to defend yourself against their teasing. 

Mark chimed in, a mischievous grin on his face. "Come on, Y/N, you missed out on the highlight of senior year!"

"Yeah, Y/N, how could you skip out on the chance to dance the night away with the love of your life?" Yeonjun added, his tone teasing but playful.

You sighed, feeling slightly exasperated. "It's not that big of a deal. Just an expensive dance. Plus I don’t have a ‘love of my life’ anyway." 

You don’t. You’ve crushed on a guy here or there, but no one to actually feel compelled to be with. Wonwoo was cute though, but he transferred schools not long after you two fucked due to the Virginity Race. And no, there’s no correlation between what happened and him transferring.

Sensing that his comment had struck a chord within you, he stopped pressing on. 

“Anyway, so about the case study, should we do the supreme court case where…” Yeonjun sighed loudly, changing the topic to the assignment you had been so keen to work on.

He enjoyed seeing you get flustered, but not upset or sad. It was never his intention. That was because, maybe, somewhere in his little evil Virgo heart, he kind of liked you.

You don’t know when that seed of thought was planted in his mind. Maybe when you two had to do a Romeo and Juliet film project for Honors English class during your freshmen year? Or was it when you two were on the student council during junior year? He was just a side character in your life that would make big appearances here and there, but one thing you know for sure is that him becoming the main character in your life was due to one event. The event that truly kickstarted everything happened a week after this interaction.

The wedding invite.

“You’re inviting me to your brother’s wedding?” You say, dumbfounded.

“Yeah! You’re my friend after all!”

“Seokjin, I am the one who barely knows you out of the 4 of us.” You exclaim, making the other guys laugh.

The sun beats down mercilessly as you all sit outside In-N-Out, trying to seek refuge from the sweltering May heat. Namjoon, Yoongi, and Seokjin are enjoying a brief break from university life, having returned home for the weekend. They wanted to meet up with you and Jimin, who were already drinking milkshakes and scarfing down some animal fries before they arrived and joined you two.

Seokjin's mom had asked for Jin’s help in hand-delivering invitations for his brother's upcoming wedding. The ceremony is slated for the weekend before your and Jimin's high school graduation. She wants it to be huge, so she tells Jin to invite everyone and anyone he knows.

To be completely honest, you don’t know Jin that well. He didn’t even go to the same high school as you. It’s because your best friends’ parents go to the same church, Our Lady of Peace, as his parents. That’s how they all met. And eventually how you ended up meeting him/ There are these other guys in your extended friend group too, but you can’t remember their names right now.

As the conversation veers towards the wedding's details, you lean in with interest. "Where’s it happening at?" you ask, genuinely intrigued.

"Oak Creek Golf Club," 

"There? Wow, I heard that place is fancy!" you remark, a flicker of excitement igniting within you. "Wait, do we have to bring… a plus one to this?" The words stumble out awkwardly, earning you a questionable look from Jimin.

Jin's response is quick and jovial. "A plus one? You mean a date?" he clarifies, amusement coloring his tone.

You nod slowly.

"Yeah, you can bring a date if you want. My mom said the more the merrier! I know Namjoon is bringing Hyungseo—" Jin's words are cut off by Namjoon's interjection, his discomfort evident.

Hyungseo? Oh, must be another one of Joon’s flings, you think.

“Jin…” He warns the older man.

"It's not a secret, plus I'm sure they're bringing dates too, right?" Jin redirects the conversation smoothly, addressing you, Jimin and Yoongi.

Jimin jumps in with a sassy affirmation. "Yeah, of course we are!" he declares, nodding emphatically.

Yoongi's eyes dart to you, gauging your reaction subtly, causing a flutter of nerves in your stomach. With a nod, you confirm your attendance, feeling a surge of relief at joining in the banter.

 "Yeah! And I already have someone too!" you announce, met with a chorus of surprised responses from the three men.

“You do?” The three men question in unison.

You don’t.

You don’t even want to bring a date.

But if they’re bringing dates, then you must bring one or else you’re going to be the biggest loser there!

Plus, you already said you would bring one and if you don’t, you’ll be framed as a liar.

One major thing about this is that: You don’t want to get bombarded by random Korean aunties asking if you have a boyfriend or offering you their son who is in medical or law school to be your husband. You don’t want to get asked why you don’t have one either.

You just don’t. You never had time for it. 

Your parents drilled this into you since day 1 of preschool: Study hard. No boyfriend until college, and well, you followed through with that. Yup. We’re not going to talk about the “Amazing Virginity Race” you took part in last year with your three crazy best friends. You lost your virginity, but still, no boyfriend, right?

All you wanted was to be at the top of your class, and you are on track to be salutatorian right now. Jimin has had the valedictorian spot guaranteed since the first day he started high school, taking high-level classes meant for juniors. 

However, there was one man who poses a threat to your second spot among the top 10 honor students.

Daniel Yeonjun Choi.

Yet again another mention of this guy!

Despite your rivalry, you've formed an unexpected friendship with him, working successfully together on various school projects. There were a few times you would hang out after school with each other.. Well with some other mutual friends too.

Which is why… he is the best… and technically the only option you have.

To bring as a date.

“Daniel!” You call out to him as he walks out of the last period class you had together. He doesn’t turn around, distracted as he converses with Soobin and Mark, his close friends. But you know for a fact this boy can hear you. 

You call out to him repeatedly, but no reaction. You’re annoyed.

So what do you do? Keep following behind him waiting for a perfect moment to snatch his attention fully. You probably look like a creep, but that’s fine. 

You see him bid farewell to his two friends as he heads to his locker to put some books away. Now is your chance,

“Yeonjun!” And finally, he turns around, his eyes widen when you use his Korean name.

“Holy fuck, you caught me off guard with that L/N.” He scolds.

“And you didn’t hear me when I called out to you a thousand times before that?”

“No.” He smiles, which irks you, but you can’t let it be known. He finds this attractive, but you don’t know that yet.  “What did you want?”

“You remember that one time I helped you out by telling you the answer to the Calculus pop quiz and that you said you’d owe me a favor.” You pout your lips out, hoping he takes pity on you and hears you out.

“...Ugh. Can we save that for another day? I got dance practice.”

No, you cannot! Time is ticking. You’re going to have to be blunt.

"No! Look, Choi, I need you to-"

The pleading in the moment sounds very desperate and exasperated which you hope doesn’t–

"Need me? Sounds kinda erotic." The taller boy chuckles, and your face scowls, turning a heavy shade of red.

Dammit, that’s exactly what I didn’t want it to sound like!

"Huh? That’s not…You're gross! As if I would EVER do anything trashy with you!" You cross your arms, feeling impatient. You look away from him, seeing some of the passing students. Jimin’s supposed to meet you near this building and should be here any minute from his last class across campus so you can both go home together. You don’t want to get caught doing this. 

This isn't gonna work at this rate, and you don't have any more time for this. 

"You know what, never mind. I don't even know why I bothered to think of asking you. I should've asked Mark instead." You turn around, deciding to walk away from the situation. Maybe you'll take the L! You'll go to Seokjin's dumb brother's wedding by yourself like the loser you are while everyone else has dates.

"Hey, wait!" Yeonjun pulls your arm toward him, making you turn back around. You are now face to face with each other, which makes you suddenly feel nervous. "Alright. Fine, Princess, I'm listening. What is it?" He looks at you, finally with sincerity in his eyes.

God, I guess if he actually wants to listen now, then you'll say it. What could go wrong?

You tiptoe and lean in close to his ear, catching Yeonjun slightly off guard. "Okay. so I need you to be my fake date to my friend's brother's wedding."

Yeonjun blinks repeated, processing the request. After realizing he was frozen, he immediately goes back to his usual expression and smirks. "Well, well, well. Looks like someone couldn't resist the charm of Choi Yeonjun after all."

You roll your eyes, "Hell no. Please, you can be there looking all pretty, but I'd rather dance with a cactus."

He raises an eyebrow, "You sure about that? Cacti can be quite prickly, you know."

You huff, "Just shut up and play along. I need you to act like a decent human being for one evening. You owe me anyways, remember?" 

Yeonjun smirks again, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Decent human being? That's a stretch," he grins, clearly enjoying this. "But sure, why not? It's not every day someone gets to be in the presence of greatness."

You scoff, shaking your head, "Greatness? Please. Just don't embarrass me, okay?"

Yeonjun's grin widens, "No promises, sweetheart. But I'll do my best. After all, I owe you."

"Yeah, yeah. Just be ready to suffer through a night of pretending to like me," you retort with a wry smile.

"Oh, the sacrifices I make for you," he replies, sarcasm dripping from every word.

As you walk away, hoping to meet Jimin halfway you can't help but mutter under your breath, "This is gonna be a disaster."

Yeonjun's laughter follows you from a very short distance after overhearing you, "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

After Yeonjun agreed, you begin meeting with him regularly over the next two weeks leading up to the wedding. Your primary objective is to shop for outfits suitable for the event and to conduct some "etiquette" training. By "etiquette," you mean coaching him on how to handle questions from the guys or any of Seokjin's family members in a certain manner.

So this gives you guys a lot of time to get to know each other. 

You learn that he prefers to be called Yeonjun, as Daniel just feels like a persona he puts up in school. You learn that he lives with his aunt, uncle, and younger cousin at the Woodbridge Apartment complex. His parents wanted him to grow up in the US, so they left him here in their care and just told him to get through school and come back to Korea when he graduates college. He says that’s one of the main factors that has kept him motivated to keep working hard and getting into a good college. 

He gets to know you too. You tell him you live close to school, with your parents and younger sister for the majority of your life. You tell him about the business program you got into at a college where two of your best friends go. You tell him all your pet peeves, your likes and dislikes. 

And he listens.

“Bought these on my way here.” Yeonjun handed you a white bag, a small smile playing on his lips as he stepped into your house . You accepted it with a curious glance and opened it up, revealing an array of pastries nestled inside.

"Bread?" you asked, slightly surprised.

"Yeah," Yeonjun replied. "I remember you mentioning that you were craving Tour Les Jours the other day. So, I got you a custard bun, a blueberry cream cheese bun—"

You interrupted him, incredulous. "Wait, you remembered that? I just blurted it out randomly in the middle of AP Lit a few days ago because I was hungry at the time. You really didn't have to get me anything."

"Nah, it was nothing," Yeonjun said casually, settling down comfortably on your living room couch. "I had gone to drop off Soobin at his house, so it was just a quick stop."

"Well, then, we can snack on it later," you replied with a smile, feeling touched by his thoughtful gesture. “So about the Seokjin’s brother…” 

Things like that made your heart become a bit softer for him after all thus time.

During this time, Jimin was too busy with the girl he is seeing (a dancer, actually) or with dance practice sessions after school. So he didn’t know you were hanging out with Yeonjun instead.

But there were still days throughout the week that you would hang out.

You’re best friends after all.

The scent of freshly baked pastries envelops you as you sit across from Jimin amidst the cozy ambiance of his dad's bakery cafe. Textbooks and notes are spread out between you, but your mind is elsewhere, preoccupied with thoughts of the impending conversation.

Jimin glances up from his notes, furrowing his brows as he studies your slightly giddy expression. "Hey, Y/N," he begins tentatively, "Is everything okay? You've been acting kinda weird since that hangout at In-N-Out."

Despite him not knowing what you were doing, he could still feel tha something was different about you.

You feign innocence, offering a casual shrug. "Weird? I don't know what you're talking about, Jimin. I've just been busy with stuff."

But Jimin isn't convinced, his gaze probing as he leans in slightly. "Come on, Darling, I know when something's up. You can tell me."

You maintain your facade of nonchalance, avoiding his penetrating stare. "Honestly, Jimin, there's nothing to tell. Just stressed about exams, that's all!"

"Fine, okay, be that way. But don't think I'll stop trying to figure it out." He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

You offer him a small smile, hoping to diffuse the tension. "I know you won't."

After a moment of silence, Jimin's curiosity continues. "So, about that wedding... Do you really have a date lined up?"

You pause momentarily from writing your final notes on a cheat sheet. "Yeah, I do," you reply casually. "You'll meet him soon."

Jimin's eyes widen with interest, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. "Oh, really? The Y/N who’s never had a boyfriend before got the courage to ask someone as their wedding date."

You offer him a playful shove, laughing softly. "Maybe the virginity competition last year changed me, but don't get too excited, Jimin. He's just a…friend."

In the back of your mind, you start to wonder otherwise.

Standing outside in your brown UO Samara Mesh Strapless Midi Dress, you nervously glance around, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. Namjoon's absence offers you some  temporary relief from your anxiety about being seen with Yeonjun. He stayed the night at Jin’s, so you’ll see him at the venue.

Suddenly, the sound of an engine draws your attention, and you turn to see Yeonjun's 1998 Red Subaru Impreza pulling up to the curb. It's not the first time you've laid eyes on his car, having been in it several times before when he’d give you a ride to your house or take you to his. But you can't help but admire the vintage charm it exudes every time you see it. It’s just so, Yeonjun.

As Yeonjun's gaze meets yours, he's momentarily struck silent, his eyes roaming over your dress. "Uh, ready for the show...sweetheart?" he finally manages to say.

A giggle escapes your lips as you saunter over to the car. "Oh, you know I was born ready." you tease, flashing him a playful grin as you slide into the passenger seat.

Feeling a rush of excitement and nerves, you hurry to find seats in the pews set up at the outdoor ceremonial venue at the country club, your fingers instinctively reaching out to grasp Yeonjun's wrists for support. As you settle into your chosen spot, you cast a quick glance around and realize that the place is packed to the brim with guests, the air humming with anticipation and excitement.

Your heart skips a beat slightly as you lock eyes with Namjoon across the crowded area. There's a flicker of recognition in his gaze, followed by a swift glance toward the person seated next to you—Yeonjun. His expression remains inscrutable as he studies the two of you, leaving you to wonder what thoughts are running through his mind.

A wave of uncertainty washes over you as Namjoon offers a hesitant wave in your direction. Beside him, Yoongi and Jimin turn to look at you and share a similar surprised, yet confused expression, their eyes briefly meeting yours before Jimin leans in to say something to Yoongi. You strain to catch a glimpse of their conversation, but the distance and the din of the crowd make it impossible to decipher.

A sense of unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you contemplate their reactions, a myriad of questions swirling in your mind. But with the ceremony about to begin, you push aside your apprehensions, focusing instead on Seokjin’s brother at the front with the priest, and his sister-in-law preparing to walk the aisle as the ceremony begins.

As you step into the wedding reception venue at Oak Creek Golf Club, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable introductions. 

“You good, Princess?” Yeonjun says gently, reassuring you from your nerves. You look at him, your eyes softening, “Yeah, just a bit of nerves, but I’m ready to get this over with.”

With Yeonjun by your side, you navigate through the crowd until you join your group of friends sitting at a large round table.

After greeting, you clear your throat nervously and gesture towards Yeonjun. "This is my date," you announce, hoping to break the ice.

Yeonjun stands beside you, momentarily speechless as he takes in the sight of your guy best friends and the other males at the table. Sensing his hesitation, you shoot him a subtle elbow, prompting him to snap out of his daze.

"Ow," he mutters, before regaining his composure and extending a hand towards the others. "Uh, hi, I'm Daniel Choi, but you can call me Yeonjun. Nice to meet you guys," he manages, his tone a blend of nervousness and politeness.

As the guys' inquisitive gazes shift between you and Yeonjun, they waste no time in launching into their interrogation.

Jimin leans in, his eyes narrowed with curiosity. "Y/N, what's going on? How did you end up bringing Yeonjun as your date?" He’s not shying away from the elephant in the room.

Jimin has been familiar with Yeonjun for a long time. They both are dancers, though Jimin does it competitively at school (and won competitions), while Yeonjun is a well-known dancer at your hometown’s community dance studio. Makes sense they would have crossed paths because of dance mutuals after all. Jimin has also he heard you complain about him and his teasing the last couple of years. He never paid him too much attention, until now.

You offer a practiced smile, reciting the rehearsed response you've prepared. "Oh, well, Yeonjun and I have been friends for a while, and when I needed a date for the wedding, he kindly offered to accompany me."

Jimin is immediately smelling that something is fishy. In his mind, he knows that you hate Yeonjun. Well, hate seems to be a strong word. More like, you have differences with one another.

Namjoon furrows his brow, his expression skeptical. "Friends, huh? I’ve never heard you mention him being your friend before. Weren’t you guys rivals?"

Shit. You know Namjoon knew him from being in the student leadership with him during his junior year of high school. He also heard Yeonjun ranting about you getting higher grades than you.

You shrug casually, masking your unease. "Well, you know how it is. Sometimes friendships develop unexpectedly."

Yoongi leans back in his chair, eyeing Yeonjun with a hint of suspicion. "Okay, so Yeonjun, how did you and Y/N become friends so suddenly?"

Yeonjun clears his throat nervously, his eyes darting between the three men and the others at the table overhearing their conversation. "Uh, well, you probably heard we had classes together over the years. And mutual friends," he begins, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "And, uh, we just hit it off, I guess."

Jimin raises an eyebrow, his gaze probing. "That’s funny because last time I recall, we were the only ones who were Y/N’s friends.”

He is right, you’re not really close to anyone else.

But Yeonjun does not know how to respond to that. Though he’s close to saying something sassy right back. But he knows it would be disrespectful, and he doesn’t want to cause any drama. You wouldn’t want him to start something with your best friends either.

There’s a brief pause as the guys absorb the answers Yeonjun spouts out during this interrogative ordeal, exchanging glances with each other. Sensing the tension, you interject quickly. "Okay! Enough with that. So, how about we grab some drinks. It's a celebration, after all!"

With a subtle shift in focus, the conversation veers away from the interrogation, allowing you and Yeonjun a momentary reprieve from their scrutiny.

You link arms with Yeonjun, guiding him towards the bar where champagne floats are being served, eager for a temporary escape from the intense interrogation. You sneakily grab two, worried that someone will say something about two underage teens drinking, but no one notices. You think no one cares. You hand one to Yeonjun, who only takes a sip of it but puts it aside as he remembers he’s driving you home tonight.

As you sip on your drink, you can't help but shake your head in disbelief. "I didn't think they would go off like that... I've never seen them do that," you remark, baffled by their sudden intensity.

Yeonjun glances at you and your drink and chuckles softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, looks like your friends are more protective than I thought. Guess I'll have to watch my back around them," he replies with a sassy smirk, his tone teasing yet lighthearted.

You can't help but laugh at his response, grateful for his ability to add some humor into the tense situation. If you were in his shoes, you would’ve left the moment they started questioning you. It’s not worth the hassle to make up a favor.

As you and Yeonjun return to the table, you finally notice Namjoon and Jimin's dates seated nearby and decide to seize the opportunity to meet them. With a friendly smile, you turn to Namjoon and Jimin, gesturing towards their dates. "Hey, mind introducing me to your lovely companions?" you inquire politely.

Namjoon and Jimin exchange knowing glances before obliging. "Uh yeah of course, Y/N," Namjoon replies, gesturing towards his date, wearing a long beige spaghetti-strapped dress. "This is Hyungseo."

"And this is Shuhua," Jimin adds, indicating his own companion wearing a navy blue satin mini dress.

You offer warm greetings to both Hyungseo and Shuhua, engaging them in conversation as you exchange pleasantries. Though, they both seem to be reluctant to talk to you and ignore your efforts. It leaves you feeling offended. You just met them and they’re being rude already. The guys take note of their behavior, but don’t say anything.

They’re lost causes, you think.

Turning to the rest of the group to continue your socializing, you notice Hoseok, Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jin accompanied by their respective dates. Their dates are fortunately, kinder than the other girls. You make your rounds, introducing yourself to each of them and exchanging friendly banter.

However, you can't help but notice that Yoongi is sitting alone, without a date by his side. Sensing his discomfort, you offer him a smile, silently acknowledging his solitude.

"Hey, Yoongi, couldn't find a date to save your life, huh?" Hoseok teases with a playful grin.

Taehyung chimes in, nudging Yoongi gently. "Come on, man, what happened? Couldn't charm anyone into accompanying you tonight?"

Jungkook adds with a smirk, "Looks like it's just you and the dance floor tonight, hyung."

Even Jin comments on it as he returns to the table after having to go help his mom with something. "Well, well, well, looks like the most eligible bachelor at the table is flying solo tonight."

Despite the teasing, Yoongi takes it all in stride, offering a nonchalant shrug and a smirk of his own. "Hey, I don't need a date to have a good time. Besides, who needs the drama, right?"

Maybe he’s right. Did you really need to be doing all of this just to prove some point? 

You continue your time, eating and conversing with your friends around you. The afternoon sunset changes to a night sky. Despite everyone having fun, drinking and celebrating, a part of you feels guilty for bringing Yeonjun as your “fake date”. You should’ve come by yourself or as Yoongi’s buddy. But you always feel the need to prove something, and feel dumb by the end of it.

The mood in your mind sombers, and you turn to Yeonjun and whisper in his ear. 

"I'm going to step out for a bit. You can stay here."

Yeonjun's concerned gaze meets yours, his brows furrowing in worry. "Hey, hey, something wrong?" he asks softly.

"Just feeling overwhelmed with the partying environment," you reply, attempting to brush off your unease. "Don't worry about—"

But before you can finish, Yeonjun cuts in determinedly. "I'll go with you."

You offer him a grateful smile, touched by his unwavering support, as you both make your way towards the entrance of the outdoor reception area. Finding solace in the quietude outside, you settle onto a bench next to a tree adorned with twinkling lights, the gentle rustle of leaves providing a comforting backdrop to your thoughts.

As you sit together on the bench, the soft glow of the lights casting a serene ambiance around you, you can't shake the feeling of guilt that weighs heavily on your chest. With a sigh, you turn to Yeonjun, your voice tinged with regret.

"Yeonjun, I’m gonna be honest with you. I've been feeling terrible about dragging you into this whole charade as my date," you begin, your words hesitant yet sincere.

Yeonjun's gaze softens, his expression filled with understanding. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize," he reassures you gently.

But you shake your head, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. "No, you don't understand. I feel like I've wasted your time, made you endure all of this just to satisfy some silly notion of mine," you confess, your voice laced with self-reproach.

Yeonjun reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, listen to me. You didn't waste my time. I chose to be here and all those hang out sessions because I wanted to help you. I wanted to be by your side," he says earnestly.

You meet his gaze, feeling a surge of gratitude and warmth wash over you at his words. "But you shouldn't have had to endure all of this just for my sake," you protest softly.

Yeonjun smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. "Sometimes, we do things for the people we care about, even if it means stepping out of our comfort zone. And honestly, being here with you, even in this weird setup, has been worth it," he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

Touched by his unwavering support and understanding, you feel a lump form in your throat. "Thank you, Yeonjun. I really appreciate everything you've done for me," you say, your voice choked with emotion.

Yeonjun gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Anytime, Y/N. Remember, I'm here for you, no matter what," he says softly.

In the serene ambiance of the evening, with the soft glow of lights casting a mesmerizing spell, Yeonjun shifts nervously beside you, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he finally gathers the courage to speak up.

"You know Y/N, there's something I've been thinking about lately," he begins, his voice laced with a hint of shyness yet buoyed by his characteristic sassiness. "We’ve been hanging out a lot lately, and I honestly feel like it’s changed a lot about how we behave around each other.”

Your curiosity piqued, you turn to him, prompting him to continue.

"What do you mean?" you inquire, your voice filled with genuine interest.

Yeonjun hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering with uncertainty before he continues, his words tinged with a vulnerability that catches you off guard.

"I know I did this as a favor, but I liked hanging out with you a lot," he confesses, his tone sincere. "Getting to know you. Seeing you more often."

A warmth spreads through your chest at his admission, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Well I... I feel the same way," you admit softly, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. "Spending time with you has been... different. In a good way."

For a moment, silence envelops you both, the tranquility of the night amplifying your heart beating fast. You find yourself lost in thought. What would happen if you started to like Yeonjun? Would it even be possible to be together? You feel crazy for thinking this. Your freshmen year self would kill you for having this thought.

Maybe this is all just in your head. It’s too late to start something just as you’re about to graduate high school and go your separate ways.

But before you can gather your thoughts, Yeonjun's voice breaks the silence, his tone laced with a vulnerability that tugs at your heartstrings.

"I don't want this to end, Y/N," he confesses, his words tinged with sincerity. "I don't want to go back to how things were before. I actually think I’ve fallen in love with you."

What?

He also had similar thoughts as you?

You can't believe this. This is insane. I mean, you knew you were getting closer, but you never thought... you never thought he'd feel the same way. 

This is like something straight out of a movie. A rivals to lovers fic from Wattpad. Your mind is going a million miles an hour right now. What do you do now? It's like the whole world just shifted beneath your feet. 

But when you look into Yeonjun's eyes, you can see the sincerity there. It's kind of overwhelming. This was definitely not part of the plan when you set out to do this. I mean, how do you even deal with something like this? You’ve never dated anyone. But at the same time, there's a part of you that's curious, that's intrigued by the possibility of trying it. You’re 18 now, you studied hard and deserve to be in love.

This could change things for you.

But it’s not something you ever expected to happen in your life. Especially with Yeonjun.

As you grapple with the emotions swirling within you, you find yourself hesitantly voicing your doubts to Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun…I feel the same way but it just feels like... like it's too late." you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "If this happened way before graduation, things would’ve easier, but we’re just about to start college–"

But before you can continue, Yeonjun reaches out, gently taking your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"It's okay, Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours with a steadfast determination. "I understand that things are different now, but I'm willing to try. I still have the rest of summer with you, and our colleges are somewhat close to each other. We can make it work."

His words wash over you like a soothing balm, calming the storm of uncertainty raging within your mind. Despite your fears and reservations, there's a part of you that's drawn to the possibility of exploring this newfound thing with Yeonjun, and stepping into something completely new in your life. A relationship.

As you gaze into his eyes, you realize that perhaps, just perhaps, this unexpected turn of events could be the beginning of something beautiful. Before you can dwell further on this realization, Yeonjun leans in, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss. At first, it's gentle, tentative, as if both of you are testing the waters. But soon, the kiss deepens, passion igniting between you as you lose yourselves in the moment.

Time seems to stand still as you both surrender to the intoxicating sensation of each other's touch. But eventually, you both mutually let go, the need for air becoming too urgent to ignore. With a shared understanding, Yeonjun suggests getting out of there, and you readily agree.

Taking control, Yeonjun grasps your hand firmly in his, leading the way as you rush away to his parked car. As you hurry along, you can't help but glance back at the entrance. You didn’t get to say bye to the guys and the bride and groom. But when you catch a glimpse of Namjoon and Yoongi witnessing your hasty departure with Yeonjun, your heart drops.

Oh shit.

Despite your immediate worries of your two best friends seeing all of that, you push it away once you arrive to Yeonjun’s apartment. 

The darkness envelops you as you step inside, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Yeonjun explains that his cousin, aunt, and uncle are out of town for the weekend, leaving the apartment empty for the first time ever.

You can't help but tease him, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Did you plan this, Yeonjun?" you quip, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Yeonjun responds with a smirk of his own, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Well, Y/N, I’m not supposed to kiss and tell," he retorts in a sassy tone, his playful banter sending a shiver down your spine.

With a coy smile, he takes your hand and leads you to his room, the tension between you palpable. He takes off his tuxedo jacket, placing it on his chair. As he pushes you gently onto the bed and gets on top of you, the rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, mingling with the electrifying sensation of his touch.

In that moment, as you lie together in the dimly lit room, the world fades away, leaving only the two of you lost in the intoxicating embrace of the night. You realize that perhaps, just perhaps, this is where you were meant to be all along.

“Are you sure about this though?” he asks you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips which are soon moving down to your jaw and neck. “If you don’t feel the same, we can end this. I’ll take you home sweetheart.” He leans into your ear.

You can’t hold back the whimper from the sensation his whispers give you. His hands pushes your dress out of the way, bunching around your waist and his long fingers dig into the skin of your ass.

“I think I made it clear I want this just as much as you,” you whisper back, pushing your hands under his collared shirt. You can’t help but marvel at the abs he has hidden under, muscles flexing beneath your palms. Yeonjun takes this time to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, fully revealing his torso to you.

Fuck, you’ve only seen this in his swim meet photos from last year, but never in person, and especially not like this.

“I want to see you naked too,” He grins pulling his hands away from your ass for a minute, pulling the zipper of the dress down and carefully sliding the strapless garment off you. You can’t suppress the shiver as the cooling air hits your heated skin, you feel like you’re blushing all over knowing he’s looking at you again.

“No bra? Fuck, you’re crazy,” Yeonjun groans dropping his face to your heaving chest, dragging his teeth and tongue over the swell of your breasts.

You grip the back of his head, fingers digging into his black hair as your other hand pushes between the two of you slightly awkwardly, popping the button of his slacks and tugging down his zipper. Pulling your hands away gently, Yeonjun moves down your body. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask breathlessly, trying to pull him back up but he shakes his head, a beautiful but dangerous smirk tugging at his lips.

Hooking his fingers in the sides of your black lace thong, he tugs them down your legs and removes them. You watch with wide eyes as he tucks them in his back pocket.

“Uh?! Y-Yeonjun?” 

“Call it a thank you for tonight. I survived your friends sending me daggers through the whole day, after all.” He winks up at you as he starts kissing and nipping his way up your inner thighs.

“H-Hey they so didn’t do that! G-Give them back to me or–” Your threat dies in your throat as Yeonjun pulls your leg over one of his shoulders. You can’t take your eyes off of him, his darkened eyes look up at you. It’s a lie if you say you never once thought about this sight. It was a nightmare for you at some point, but now, it’s reality. A good reality.

Yeonjun groans into you as his thick tongue drags through your wet folds, moving from your entrance to your throbbing clit and back again. Your body squirms as you grab his hair, feeling yourself sinking further and further into his bed as you roll your hips down into his face. Yeonjun growls as he sucks your clit between his plump lips. With one arm across your waist holding you still, the other moves between your leg. His two long fingers pushes into you, causing your back to arch, in an attempt to get closer to him.

In this moonlight shining through his room, his arms looked bigger than you remembered. Despite his tall and lanky-looking body, he’s definitely stronger than you previously thought. 

“F-Fuck Junnie!” you cry out, saying a new nickname for him in the process. The feeling is so intense as he starts thrusting his fingers into you, switching between scissoring and curling them against that sweet spot inside making your thighs shake.

Yeonjun groans once again as he feels your pussy starting to tighten around his fingers. He continues with faster movements, his tongue starting to flick back and forth over your sensitive bundle of nerves still trapped between his pouty lips.

Pulling away briefly, his tongue runs around his fingers pumping in and out of you. Your mind is beginning to get hazy. You’re so close, that you can feel the edge approaching.

“Tastes better than honey,” he groans low in his chest before sealing his lips back around your clit with renewed vigor, his tongue moving in time with his fingers.

“H-How the fuck are you so g-good at this?” You whimper as his fingers start digging into your hip, “So close, gonna c-come…. f-fuck!” You cry out as you feel the band holding your sanity together inside you snap, your pussy spasming around Yeonjun’s fingers as he works you through your orgasm. He moans around your clit, pushing vibrations through your body as you cling to his hair for dear life.

When you finally feel your body calm down, Yeonjun gently removes his fingers. He looks up at you with a smug look on his face. He’s teasing you. God, you can’t believe he just pulled an orgasm out of you. What the fuck. 

Also, why does he know how to do this so well? How many girls has he been with? 

“I can’t believe you’re teasing me because you made me cum,” You roll your eyes at him.

He climbs up your body once again and pulls you into a rough, but chaste kiss. It feels gross at first, but somehow intoxicating. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, yet it turns you on more than you thought it would.

“You ain’t seen anything yet, Princess,”

“Oh is that right? Show me what you’ve got then,” you smirk as your hand trails down his body, meeting his eyes when your hand pushes into his boxers. Yeonjun softly groans when your small hand wraps around his thick aching cock, tugging down his slacks and boxers until they’re around his knees. You start to pump his cock in your hand, loving the way his breathing picks up as his hands hold onto your hips. You feel so much power from doing this.

He leans over quickly to grab a condom from his bedside table and starts sliding it on until it fully encapsulates his dick.

“Are you ready?” Yeonjun asks through a moan as you pull him closer, hooking your leg over his hip. His thick cock brushes through your slick pussy, and with every roll of his hips, the tip of his cock nudges your clit.

“Yes please just do it already,” You say urgently, which makes him chuckle. His hand wraps around his cock as he eases inside of you very slowly. His other hands roughly grabs your ass as you cry out against his lips.

“Holy shit, Yeonjun…Fuck”

“God, you’re tight, can’t wait to fuckin’ ruin you,” He groans when your pussy clenches around him. He can’t take it anymore, you practically scream his name as he snaps his hips forward, neighbors be damned. Both of you cling to each other as he waits for you to adjust to his size. His lips press to your ear, his breathing ragged as he speaks. 

“You’re only gonna want me now, sweetheart and I’ll make sure of it.”

Your nails drag down his back creating angry red lines against his soft skin. You nod your head slightly foggy, filled with just Yeonjun. 

“Do it! Please, move. I’m yours,” you breathe against his lips, your sweaty forehead up against his.

“Love the sound of you being so eager, ” Yeonjun grunts as he thrusts his hips up roughly, causing you to cry out into his open mouth. His hands feel like they’re everywhere as his hips start thrusting up into you wildly, the snap of his hips slapping loudly against your skin. You can feel every inch of his cock, as his lips tongue and teeth explore your neck, sucking dark purple marks into your skin. Cupping your breasts roughly, his plump lips seal around a hardened nipple. His warm mouth feels so amazing against you while you feel your pussy clamping down around his cock for the first time. 

You haven’t had sex since you lost your virginity to Wonwoo, and this being your second time feels so amazing.

“Hold it,” Yeonjun grunts pulling you back from the brink of cumming. You stare at him with your lustful bedroom eyes and mouth dropping open as he fucks into you harder than before.

“I-I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. I’m gonna pull out in a minute and I wanna see you bounce on my cock.” The way he growls those words against your neck makes you whine, desperate for release you know you’re not allowed. Fuck, the horny and desperate hormones are taking over the both of you.

Yeonjun pulls out after another hard thrust that makes your legs weak, stumbling away from you. He grins like a cheshire cat when you glare at him. Laying down awkwardly next to you, he starts pumping his cock in his hand as he watches you crawl towards him. Your back aches and stings, much like the rest of your body in the best way, but all you can focus on is Yeonjun.

To his surprise you turn your back to him, getting to your knees and straddle his hips and thighs. With your hands resting on his thick thighs, you lean your ass back, moaning as he teases the tip of his cock against your entrance. It slips inside you with not much difficulty and you can’t help but push back into him. You slowly lower yourself, letting your tight wet heat envelope him, until your ass is pressed against his groin and lower stomach.

“D-Didn’t know you have a thing for my ass,” You tease.

Yeonjun growls low in his throat, squeezing your ass roughly as you lift almost off his cock before dropping back down. 

“Not such a good girl after all are you?” He questions roughly as you start a steady rhythm of rising and falling on his cock, nails digging into his thighs.

You pause to roll your hips over him, loving the way your clit rubs against him.

 “N-No, it was a persona for me too,” you cry out as he slaps your ass hard, quickly followed by another harsh slap to your other cheek.

“Y/N, you’re so hot,” Yeonjun groans as you start bouncing again. He feels your pussy beginning to clench again as your slick leaks down his shaft and balls. You hold on when you start to feel him bucking his hips up into you. “Don’t stop, let go Princess,” Yeonjun says roughly catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

Pushing a hand between your legs, you rub harsh circles into your clit. Your throat is hoarse from shouting out his name. Your eyes squeeze tightly shut as Yeonjun thrusts up hard, and you cry out as you come, clinging to him wherever you can.

You’ve barely come down from your euphoric high when Yeonjun eases you up, a rough bruising grip on your hips. He takes control guiding you up and down his length until he finally comes with a moaning whimper of your name falling from his lips.

You're panting hard when Yeonjun finally pulls out slowly, helping you lay down next to him gently.

“Fuck, I love you” Yeonjun whispers aggressively as he goes in to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you. It takes a while for those words to sink in because you’re still in disbelief. When he pulls away he’s surprised to find you frowning.

“You okay?” he asks worriedly, his fingers brushing over the slowly forming bruises on your body. “Was I too rough,” he swallows hard, meeting your eyes. You shake your head.

“You mean you love me as a friend right?” you question nervously, just wanting to confirm that he actually isn’t playing with your heart.

You heard rumors that he kinda does this thing with a select few girls for fun. So you want to make sure if he is actually on the same wavelength as you.

“That’s what’s wrong?” He asks with a smile shaking his head and kissing you again. He grabs a blanket to cover your body with for warmth. 

You nod looking down at your fingers which are now linked with his.

“If it bothers you, Y/N, then yeah I can pretend I meant as friends but no. I meant it when I said I fell in love with you. I wish we could’ve done this sooner, but at least I didn’t wait any longer,” he chuckles, the blush on his cheeks brightening the more he speaks. “But it’s totally fine if you wanna chalk this up to–” You cover his mouth with your hand shaking your head.

You pull his lips to yours with tears in your eyes, feeling him smile into the kiss as a sigh of relief leaves his chest. “I’ve start to fall in love with you too,  if it wasn’t obvious the last couple of weeks we started talking more. I was so used to you being a flirty nerd, but this was very unexpected. I’m still speechless,” you giggle watching the smirk slip onto his plump lips.

“Funny how you said you’re never do anything trashy with me and look at us now,” he promises you as he gets up to discard the used up condom in the trash bin next to his bed.

You roll your eyes at him, “Shut up! Things change!”

They really do.

The next morning, Yeonjun drops you off at your home. Well, he drops you off at the street corner so you wouldn’t appear too suspicious. 

“I know you gotta study for finals this week before graduation on Saturday, so I won’t bother you. But text me if you need me.” 

You nod, a warm smile tugging at your lips as you look at Yeonjun. "Thanks, Yeonjun. I appreciate it," you say softly, your heart feeling lighter knowing he's there for you now as someone more than a rival, more than a friend.

Yeonjun returns your smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. "Anytime, Y/N. I'll be waiting for your call," he replies, his voice tinged with sincerity.

As you step out of the car and onto the sidewalk, you turn back to wave at Yeonjun, watching as he drives away. 

When enter your house, your very nosey mother folding laundry in the living room asks you about the wedding and where you stayed the night, you tell her you stayed with Kyeongmin, Namjoon’s younger sister. Before she can ask you anything else, you tell her you’re going to rest up and study for your finals in your room.

Once safely in your room, you let out a sigh of relief, grateful to have dodged your mother's interrogation. But as you glance at your phone, you see messages from Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jimin, all undoubtedly asking about last night's events.

Shit. It seems like you have some explaining to do.

You open Namjoon's message, feeling a pang of guilt as you read his words. 

Namjoonie [Saturday 12:01AM]: Hey, tiny! Sorry about making you uncomfortable by interrogating you and Yeonjun. Are you really dating him?

You take a deep breath before composing your response. 

You [Sunday 8:11AM]: “Hey, Joon! Yeah… I'm with Yeonjun…

You [Sunday 8:12AM]: It’s a long story. Let’s talk more after finals and grad are done? You’re going on Saturday, right?

You weren’t expecting him to be up at this hour, but when he responds not long after you send your text out, you wonder what happened after he left.

Namjoon [Sunday 8:12AM]: Wouldn’t miss it for the world :)

Namjoon has always been overprotective over you, but surprisingly, he’s being patient right now. Maybe the year in college has changed him. A part of you kinda hoped he’d react differently.

You responded to the rest of the guys similarly, and also receive responses that oddly disappoint you a bit.

June 3rd, 20XX [Saturday]

Finals week goes by in a flash. You pass all your finals with flying colors, and before you know it, it's Saturday morning. The graduation ceremony is at 4PM, but you're at the school gym at the crack ass of dawn to practice sitting in assigned seats and walking for the ceremony at the football field later.  With your status as Salutatorian, you end up getting placed in the very front, along with Jimin who is the Valedictorian and Yeonjun who sits in the 3rd spot.  The rest of the spots are filled by Daisy, Mark, Soobin, Denise, Stephan, Felix, and Kevin.

"It's really happening," you say out loud to no one in particular, but Jimin and Yeonjun look at you.

Jimin offers you a reassuring smile. "Yeah, it is. Can you believe it?"

Yeonjun chimes in, his usual playful smirk adorning his lips. "Well, I mean, look at us, top of the class and all."

Jimin eyes him suspiciously. It’s unlike Yeonjun to just butt into a conversation with you and Jimin like that. You’re afraid Jimin’s going to pounce on him, especially after likely hearing about what you two did at the wedding from your other best friends.

You chuckle nervously, attempting to redirect Jimin’s focus from him. "Well I barely secured this spot. Thank God you got an A- in AP Calculus,"

Jimin laughs a little too hard at your comment, and Yeonjun rolls his eyes playfully. "Hey, we’re all going to college and that’s what matters," he says, flashing a grin. 

You nod, feeling a sense of camaraderie with your friends. "Yeah, we are."

As the morning progresses, you go through the motions of the graduation rehearsal, listening to the instructions from the faculty and practicing your entrance and exit. After an hour and thirty minutes of practicing, you’re all free to head home and get ready.

"I'll give you a ride," Yeonjun suggests to you casually, however Jimin suddenly grabs your wrist.

"Nope, I'm taking her!" Jimin chimes in. "See ya!"

"H-Hey! Wait!" You protest, but Jimin drags you away to his used black porsche parked in the student parking lot.

You stumble slightly as Jimin pulls you along, caught off guard by his sudden decision. "Jimin, what's going on?" you ask, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.

"Nothing.” He groans, “Just want to take you to my place to get ready with me for graduation. We'll drop by your house to get your stuff."

You're taken aback by Jimin's sudden assertiveness but decide to go along with it, intrigued by what he has planned. "Uhh right! Sounds good?" you reply, trying to keep up with his energetic pace.

Jimin unlocks his car, and you slide into the passenger seat beside him. The engine roars to life, and you two exit campus, leaving Yeonjun there as he left with a puzzled expression. What Jimin did would be considered war against Yeonjun. But yet again, you didn’t realize this at the time.

The sun beats down on the football field, casting a warm glow over the sea of graduates seated in neat rows. As you sit among your classmates, adorned in your purple cap and gown, you can't help but feel a surge of nerves coursing through you. The anticipation builds as you anxiously await your turn to present your short speech as the Salutatorian of your class.

The field is alive with the buzz of excitement and anticipation, friends and family members filling the stands to witness this momentous occasion. The scent of freshly cut grass mingles with the faint aroma of flowers carried on the breeze, creating an atmosphere of celebration and achievement.

Your eyes scan the crowd, searching for familiar faces among the sea of spectators. You catch sight of your parents and sister sitting in the middle row, and then see Yoongi, Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook and Taehyung sitting right in front of them, holding flowers and balloons. Their proud smiles warming your heart and easing some of your nerves.

Suddenly, your attention is drawn to the stage where Jimin stands, delivering his graduation speech with eloquence and passion. His words resonate with the audience, his voice carrying across the field as he imparts words of wisdom and reflection on the journey ahead.

As Jimin concludes his speech to thunderous applause, you feel a mixture of pride and apprehension. It's your turn now, and you rise to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest as you make your way to the podium.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to speak, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. You don’t remember what you said, but you did deliver your speech with poise and confidence, sharing words of gratitude and inspiration with your fellow graduates. And it was well received, so that’s all that matters.

As the ceremony draws to a close and the last diploma is handed out, the graduates are instructed to move their tassels from the right side of their caps to the left—a symbolic gesture marking their transition from students to graduates.

With a collective movement, the sea of caps is adorned with a new arrangement of tassels, signifying the culmination of years of hard work and dedication. The air is filled with the sound of cheers and applause from family and friends, along with the joyful noise of celebratory horns and whistles.

As your eyes scan the crowd, you spot your guy best friends rushing to the field to meet you and Jimin. With wide grins plastered across their faces, they weave through the throngs of people, their excitement palpable in the air.

Yoongi is the first to reach you in a rush, his trademark smirk firmly in place. "Well, well, look who's finally a high school graduate," he teases, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

Namjoon follows closely behind, his eyes sparkling with pride. "Congrats you two! You actually made it!" he exclaims, enveloping you and Jimin in a tight hug.

“With honors, too. You two are insane. Congrats you nerds!” Jin teased. “It’s called being competitive! And of course we were gonna graduate. We may have been gaming at times, but we still did our shit.” Jimin exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

Hoseok jumps in with his signature peppiness, practically bouncing on his toes. "Hey, I believed y’all could do it! Now, let's party!" he cheers, his enthusiasm infectious.

Taehyung joins the group with a mischievous grin, already planning the festivities. "Hey, hey, Jungkook and I’s high school graduation isn’t until 7 PM. We can't party yet," he interjects, his eyes still twinkling with anticipation despite the delay.

You smile at Taehyung's words, nodding in agreement. "Don’t worry. Jimin and I will definitely swing by your graduation and then we’ll party," you assure him, feeling the excitement building up again. The group chuckles, the prospect of double celebrations lifting their spirits even more.

As you bask in the joyous atmosphere, a pang of sadness washes over you as you remember Yeonjun. You quickly turn around to scan the crowd for him, but he's nowhere to be seen. Before you can dwell on it further, you're called out by your parents and surrounded by friends and teachers eager to congratulate you and bid you farewell. The momentary worry about Yeonjun is pushed aside as you immerse yourself in the festivities.

June 4th, 20XX [Sunday]

Despite the fact that you couldn't see him after the ceremony, Yeonjun shows up at your house the next morning. 

Your mom and sister are heavily caught off guard when they open the door because they've never seen him in their lives. Your sister rushes up stairs to wakes you from your slumber.

“Y/N! You need to go downstairs because there’s a pretty boy outside waiting for you with flowers!” She yells at you while removing your blankets.

You groggily rub your eyes as your sister's words register in your mind. "A pretty boy with flowers?" you mumble, still half asleep. For some reason, the thought of it being Yeonjun doesn’t click in your head. The first guy that comes to mind is Namjoon, but that wouldn’t make sense.

"Yeah, I've never seen him before," your sister replies with a curious expression. "He's, like, really handsome."

The fact that she’s never seen him before tells you otherwise.

Curiosity piqued, you quickly throw on a hoodie over your pajamas and rush downstairs to see who could possibly be waiting for you at your doorstep. As you descend the stairs, you hear the muffled voices of your mom and sister conversing with someone.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you freeze in surprise at the sight of Yeonjun standing in your foyer, holding a bouquet of flowers. Your mom and sister look equally bewildered by his presence.

"Yeonjun?" you exclaim, blinking in disbelief.

"Hey," Yeonjun greets you with a sheepish smile, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "I, uh, hope it's okay that I came over. I wanted to see you."

Your mom and sister exchange incredulous glances before your sister nudges you playfully. "Go on, Y/N, talk to your mysterious visitor," she whispers with a mischievous grin.

You shoot her a grateful, yet awkward smile before turning back to Yeonjun. "Yeah, of course it's okay. I'm just... surprised to see you here."

Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck nervously, his expression sheepish. "Yeah, uh, I wanted to apologize for disappearing after graduation. I got caught up with my friends and family… and I felt bad for not seeing you, so I wanted to make it up to you by taking you out for breakfast."

You raise an eyebrow, slightly surprised by his sudden appearance but also relieved. "Really? Well, I could definitely go for some breakfast right now," you say with a smile, feeling the tension ease between you.

"Get changed and we'll grab pancakes from Stacks. My treat," Yeonjun suggests with a grin.

Your eyes light up with excitement. "Bet! Just give me a sec to get ready," you reply, dashing upstairs to freshen up and swap your pajamas for a band t-shirt tucked into your med-wash jeans before heading out for breakfast.

You spent the morning talking with Yeonjun and eating breakfast before he took you back home. You talked to him about things you want to do over the summer with you and things of that sort. It felt so weird to finally be in a relationship. You didn’t think it would happen, let alone with someone you used to call your rival. He wanted to spend more time with you, but you told him you had to meet with Jimin to help Yoongi and Namjoon pack up and move out for the summer.

You also told him that you were going to let them know about your relationship with him, which he was fine with.

Jimin came to pick you up not long after and he drove to their college, which would soon become the same place you’ll be going to 2.5 months from now. 

“Congrats on whatever you and Yeonjun have.” Jimin said once you got in the car.

“Did Namjoon and Yoongi tell you?”

“Briefly, but there’s a few little birds in the dance community saying that Yeonjun was talking about you. Obviously don’t know all the details so you better tell me.” He eyes you for a second before looking back on the road.

“Obviously, you’re my best friend after all.” You say, and then proceed to tell him how this all started, where you are now, your fears, your excitement.

Jimin only nodded in response and smiled at your enthusiasm. But his smile hid a bit of sadness behind it. Though yet again, you didn’t realize the full extent about that at this time.

When you both arrived at the campus, You noticed Namjoon and Yoongi were already waiting for you outside of the dorm building with a good chunk of their stuff, cardboard boxes piled up as tall as them. Though, you think that there’s still more of it inside their dorm. Jimin parked the car in the dorm parking lot and got out to start loading the boxes in his car.

“Seokjin’s going to use his dad’s truck to help us pack some of the stuff that won’t fit in Jimin’s car. We’re waiting for him too.” Namjoon commented as he walked toward your window and leaned against it.

“Good to know! I was telling him earlier that most of this shit won’t fit in his small ass sports car.” You joked, which made Namjoon chuckle at your jab towards Jimin.

There was a pregnant pause after when you realized you hadn’t really talked this casually with Namjoon since the wedding. From the look in his eyes you realize that he also immediately had this thought as well.

You had talked to him last night at your graduation, but it was mainly celebratory exchanges and nothing directly related to your personal circumstances outside of that. He remained mostly around Hoseok’s side last night at the group grad party as he taught Namjoon about djaying.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” You begin as you break the silence, opening the car door to get out and shake your legs from the discomfort of sitting down for an hour. “Things happened pretty suddenly and quickly. There wasn’t really much time to bring it up—”

“It’s okay, Tiny.” Namjoon cut you off, knowing you were about to go on an apology tangent. He knows you do that whenever you feel really bad about something. “We’re all grown up. We’re bound to get into relationships. So don’t worry about it,” Namjoon smiled, however, his seemed more genuine than Jimins’. You’re not sure what this means… You expected more push and pull from him, but he’s being more understanding than you anticipated.

Yoongi tells the both of you to come inside the building so you can help him bring the last of the boxes out of their dorm. When you get to their room, Namjoon continues his thoughts.

“As long as Yeonjun doesn’t break your heart. I’m cool with him, I guess.” He carefully words out, seemingly trying to convince himself about that last sentence.

Yoongi catches chase of what Namjoon is talking about and nods, “I agree with that. If you’re happy, then we’re happy. It’s important to support each other. We’re best friends after all.”

“Right, but you better not leave us behind or start ignoring us for your boyfriend, alright?” Namjoon boops your nose with his index finger before hoisting up 3 big boxes in his arm, making you flustered. Looking at his arm strength has made you question if he’s gotten more buff recently.

“Obviously. You’re my best friends! No matter what, I’d never be an ass to you guys just because I have a boyfriend.” you spoke so matter-of-factly to them, like even the thought of you betraying them was pure blasphemy. You wouldn’t do that to them. You’ve known them for years, and have shed blood, sweat, and tears together. “You’re always one of my top priorities.”

There was a glow on their faces from simply hearing those words from you. You didn’t know the implications of that change of complexion. You were just being honest.

But you didn’t have any idea how much these words would haunt you later on.

The first month or so of dating Yeonjun has felt like a dream. 

A long awaited dream that you’ve had for so long. After graduating, you didn’t have much to do for the next three months you’re still in town. During the summer, you’d usually work a seasonal shift at a cafe near your local community college, but they were cutting costs and hiring less staff than usual. Jimin’s dad offered you a job at his bakery instead, which you decided to take, much to Jimin’s dismay. You assumed it’s because he didn’t want his dad to work you to the bone, which you didn’t mind. You wanted to have some extra cash to pay for college, as well as your outings with Yeonjun.

Yeonjun didn’t seem opposed to it either. Well, that’s what you thought at the time. Right before your shifts ended, Yeonjun would come by, get an injeolmi toast or an Iced Americano and then pick you up from work when your shift ended. It was a little embarrassing that Mr. Park would see him come by often. He’d even start to question you about the boy. At some point, he began conversations with him, asking him if he’s Korean, what school does he go to, what his parents do, etc. Jimin’s dad found him interesting, and would tease Jimin to “be more like Yeonjun”.

“Be more like Yeonjun?” Jimin scoffed, but didn’t continue his thought after looking at you and then looking away to continue with his task.

After he’d pick you up, you’d go on dates. Sometimes, you’d have a picnic at the lake or walk around the mall and talk about work, your parents, and your best friends with him. Other times, you’d come over to his apartment and help his aunt and cousin make mandu. When you were lucky, the apartment would be empty and you’d take the time to have sex with Yeonjun in his room.

Once, you tried to do the same thing and invite him to your place for sex. Your parents and sister had gone 2 cities over to shop at a bigger mall, so you didn’t miss the chance to text Yeonjun to come over. You were nervous the whole time, fearing that your parents could come home sooner than expected or sometimes even worse, Namjoon or his family would notice that Yeonjun came over. But your horny self pushed those thoughts away and let it happen.

Losing your sanity slowly for this man. But other thoughts remained on the back of your mind. 

July 4th, 20XX [Tuesday]

The afternoon sun was already high, casting a warm glow over the town as you called up Yeonjun to see if he wanted to join you at Hoseok's barbecue pool party. He had invited you and your best friends a last week, but you wanted your boyfriend to come along as well. It would help him get more familiar with your friend group and maybe your friends.

Yeonjun said he’s be down and confirmed that he would drive. Namjoon and Yoongi texted you not long after your call ended asking if they could get a ride from you since they were planning to drink at the party. Out of habit, you agreed, but then realized you fucked up.

When Yeonjun’s car pulled up to your front curb, there was a brief moment of reluctance as he saw Namjoon and Yoongi waiting with you. "Hey…didn't know we'd have a full car," Yeonjun said, trying to keep his tone light.

"I’m so sorry about that," you replied, sensing a bit of tension. "But they need a ride! And we’re going to the same place so it'll be fun!"

Namjoon and Yoongi exchanged glances, also hesitant but willing to go along. "As long as we get there," Yoongi muttered, sliding into the back seat, followed by a silent Namjoon.

You climbed into the passenger seat, buckling in while feeling the weight of the unspoken tension in the car. Yeonjun's usual playful demeanor was slightly subdued as he started driving, and the ride to Hoseok's house was filled with polite conversation and forced laughter, rather than the easy banter you were used to. You wore a black bikini, but covered it up with an orange Hawaiian shirt and short shorts. Despite the cover-up, your cleavage was noticeable, and you couldn't help but feel the eyes of Yeonjun, Namjoon, and Yoongi lingering on you throughout the ride when you’d turn to talk to them.

Upon arriving, Hoseok's backyard was already buzzing with commotion. The smell of grilled meats and the sound of upbeat music filled the air. Hoseok, busy DJ-ing, was nodding to the beat of the music ashis hands deftly adjusted the controls. His parents and sister were in Korea for the month, so he had the house to himself, which meant the party was full of his college friends and alcohol, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Jungkook was the first to greet you, his smile wide and welcoming. "Hey! You’re here!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug.

“Of course! Would never miss Hoseok’s party!” you replied, feeling the party’s energy start to lift your spirits.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jin soon followed, each offering their own warm greetings. “Looking good,” Taehyung said, eyeing your outfit with a grin.

"You’re playing with fire Tae, but thanks," you replied, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks as you noticed him and the others sneaking glances at your attire.

Jimin laughed, clapping Yeonjun on the back. "Nice of you to bring our girl here safely."

"Our–?” Yeonjun said out loud without realizing, before he corrected himself. “Uh well, yeah, anything for her," Yeonjun said, his tone sounded off, but you didn’t try to think much of it.

The backyard was a lively scene, reminiscent of a typical college Fourth of July party. Brightly colored pool floats bobbed on the surface of the pool, people splashing and playing in the water. Tables were laden with a variety of foods: burgers, hot dogs, assorted fruits, and bowls of chips. Red, white, and blue decorations were everywhere, from streamers hanging from the porch to patriotic-themed tablecloths. Jungkook said he and Taehyung did most of the decor work.

People milled about, chatting, laughing, and dancing to the music Hoseok was mixing. Solo cups filled with various drinks were scattered around, and a beer pong table was set up near the garage, already attracting a competitive crowd.

"Grab a plate, y’all!" Taehyung called, waving you over to the food table.

As you approached, you noticed Yoongi and Namjoon heading straight for the grill, where Jin had gone back to. They started joking around with Jin, who was manning the grill, and soon the three of them were engaged in a playful banter about how Jin is so dad-like at times. Jin offered them some cold beers and they cracked them open.

Meanwhile, you filled your plate with a burger and some snacks and found a spot under a large umbrella with Yeonjun. He sat close enough that your knees touched under the table, and you could feel his gaze linger on you from time to time, sending shivers down your spine despite the warm summer air.

Sometimes, you wondered how Yeonjun felt being brought into this whole new world of yours. You were used to him hanging out with Soobin and Mark, and some of his other boys you realize you hadn’t met. And girls too. People from his dance community. You would like him to become friends with your friends, but does he feel uncomfortable here? You honestly don’t know deeply of his dating history to gauge how things must’ve been in the past for him. You turned to look at him, typing away on his phone.

“How are you liking the party?” You ask him, words leaving your mouth slowly. “It’s great.” He says simply, which makes you internally sigh in relief. “You truly have an interesting friend group, Princess.” He chuckles as he observes your friends playing an intense game of ninja across you two.

“I’m honestly not sure how I got stuck with these eggheads, but at least it’s been getting me out of the house and doing something for the last couple of years.” You respond, looking at the guys back.

The party continued to ramp up, with more people showing up, some familiar faces, as the day went on. Music filled the air, laughter was everywhere, and the smell of delicious food wafted through the yard. Hoseok, in his element, kept the energy high with his DJ skills, creating a festive atmosphere. You sit poolside, feet dipped in the water while watching your boyfriend and friends in the pool. Jungkook had convince Yeonjun to join them, which made him open up a bit than earlier,

"You’re not coming in the pool, Tiny?" Namjoon asked, nudging you slightly.

"Mmm," you replied with a coy smile. "Depends if I get a good enough reason to. Otherwise, I’ll chill here." "Oh? We'll give you plenty of reasons."

Just then, Jimin swam over with a mischievous grin. "You know, it's not a real pool party unless everyone's in the pool," he said.

Before you could react, Namjoon and Jimin each grabbed one of your arms. "Hey! Wait!" you squealed, but it was too late. They pulled you into the pool with a big splash.

You resurfaced, pushing your wet hair out of your face. The guys laughed, making you huff. "You guys are the worst!" you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

Yeonjun was about to swim over towards you, until Yoongi beat him to it, “Are you good, Y/N?”

You turned to see Yoongi offering you a hand. "Yeah, I'm okay!" you replied, reaching out to take his hand. With his help, you pulled yourself up to the edge of the pool, sitting there once again with your feet in the water.

"Thanks, Yoongs," you said, giving Yoongi a grateful smile. He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you.

"No problem," he replied, his tone gentle. "Just making sure you're okay."

As you chatted with Yoongi, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was bothering Yeonjun as he stood in the pool with the others. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of uncertainty that you couldn't quite place.

You caught his gaze for a moment, and you could sense a fear lingering in the pit of his stomach, something he couldn't find the courage to voice. It made you wonder what was going through his mind, what thoughts were swirling beneath that calm exterior he often wore.

Despite your curiosity, you didn't push him to share. Instead, you offered him a reassuring smile, hoping to convey that you were there for him if he ever needed to talk.

As the night wore on and darkness settled over the neighborhood, the sky erupted in bursts of color and light as fireworks filled the air. You and the guys gathered in the driveway, lighting sparklers and watching in awe as the vibrant displays lit up the night.

Yeonjun draped his arm around you, pulling you close as you both gazed up at the dazzling spectacle above. The warmth of his touch and the closeness between you brought a sense of comfort, momentarily easing the worries that had been nagging at you earlier.

As you and Yeonjun watched the fireworks together, he leaned in close, his voice low and smug over the noise of the festivities.

"These fireworks are pretty impressive," he remarked, his eyes flickering with amusement as he looked up at the sky. “Illegal though, but beautiful.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his teasing tone. "Ha, well I think they’re okay, I guess," you replied, feigning nonchalance.

Yeonjun chuckled, his arm sliding casually around your waist. "Just okay? Come on, Y/N. They’re just as pretty as you."

You couldn't help but laugh at his flirty comment, feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks. "You’re such a smooth talker, aren't you?" you teased, nudging him playfully with your shoulder.

He flashed you a cocky grin, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of mischief. "Hey, when you've got it, flaunt it," he quipped, his confidence shining through. Without a word, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was quick but electrifying, sending a rush of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. When you pulled away, both of you were left grinning like fools, unable to contain your laughter.

But amidst your shared moment of joy, you couldn't help but notice Yoongi's subtle glance from the side, his expression unreadable in the dim light. A fleeting observation, without time to question it more before Jin called out to you to join them in a sparkler fest.

August 18, 20XX [Friday]

More time spent together with Yeonjun continues to keep you busy throughout the summer, and progressively, you start seeing less and less of specific people. You don’t know if it’s intentional on either end, but that’s just how things have been going. 

“I’m taking you to Knott’s Berry Farm.” Yeonjun says, driving and continuing to look at the road ahead of him.

The slow spiraling of thoughts scatter for a moment as your heart skips a beat at Yeonjun's announcement. Knott's Berry Farm? You hadn't been to an amusement park since the eighth-grade end-of-year trip. The memories flood back, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a hint of nostalgia.

"Seriously?" you ask, unable to contain the grin spreading across your face.

Yeonjun nods, glancing at you with a playful smile. "Yep, seriously. Thought it'd be a fun way to spend the day with you. I love this place too."

You can hardly believe your luck. Knott's Berry Farm is no doubt the most fun place to be at, and with its thrilling rides, delicious food, and vibrant atmosphere, you knew it would be such a cute date to have. 

As you continue down the road, you can't help but chatter excitedly about all the rides you want to go on and the treats you can't wait to try. Yeonjun listens with a smile, occasionally interjecting with his own thoughts and memories of the park from when he was in middle school as well.

You and Yeonjun wander through the park, you come across a charming merry-go-round tucked away in a corner. Yeonjun's eyes light up with excitement, and he suggests taking a ride together. You agree, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you approach the carousel.

Once seated on the colorful wooden horses, you exchange smiles and playful glances with Yeonjun as the merry-go-round begins to spin. The cheerful music fills the air, and you can't help but giggle as you rise and fall with the gentle motion of the ride.

"You’re such a kid!" Yeonjun teases, his laughter mixing with yours.

"Well, what can I say? I just want to be young forever," you reply, feeling carefree in this moment with him. You wave your arm out, feeling so free and liberated.

Is this the korean drama relationship you’ve always dreamed up. After all this time, it feels like you’ve finally achieved it. All these cute dates. A loving boyfriend who was once your academic rival. A summer romance.

Though, when you remember that it’s not just you and Yeonjun in this little world you’ve crafted together, reality hits and you recall the words that your best friends once said: “Right, but you better not leave us behind or start ignoring us for your boyfriend, alright?” 

And then enters a sense of guilt and doubt you’ve felt earlier. 

As the ride slows to a stop, you catch sight of Namjoon, who coincidentally is staring right at you off the ride. He’s with a group of people, you can’t tell at the moment. Your heart skips a beat, and a sudden wave of anxiety washes over you. You're not sure why you feel this way, especially around your best friends, but the thought of them seeing you with Yeonjun has progressively made you feel self-conscious. Why is this happening?

"Hey, isn't that Namjoon and the others?" Yeonjun asks, noticing your reaction.

"Yeah," you reply softly, unable to shake off the nerves.

Yeonjun looks at you with concern, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze yours. "Y/N, Are you okay?"

You nod, offering him a reassuring smile. "Oh, yeah. Just felt a little nauseous for a sec. Let's go say hi."

Together, you approach Namjoon who turns out to be hanging out with familiar faces like Jungkook and Jin. The other people in their party are unfamiliar to you, but you do see Namjoon’s fling and Jungkook’s fling behind him. 

Unease grows, but you try to push it aside. As you greet them with a smile and introduce yourself to the unknown faces, you can't help but wonder why being with Yeonjun in front of your friends feels so daunting.

You notice Namjoon's being a bit quiet, letting Jin and Jungkook excitedly converse with Yeonjun. You feel a pang of disappointment at the lack of words from him, but you try to brush it off, not wanting to make a scene.

“Jin hyung mentioned he wanted to come to an amusement park so he dragged us–” Jungkook is smacked on the back by the older man.

“You guys wanted to come with me voluntarily! So we brought some buddies. Yoongi and the rest of the guys hate theme parks.” Jin argued back, making you giggle slightly.

Namjoon offers a half-hearted nod while Jungkook and Jin give you bright smiles. Yeonjun stands beside you, his expression unreadable as he observes the interaction.

"Do you want to join us for some rides?" Jin suggests, breaking the awkward silence. "The lines don't look too bad today. The more the merrier right?" The other guys and girls happily agree.

"Yeah! Let’s do it Y/N!" Jungkook agrees, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

You glance at Yeonjun, silently asking for his opinion. He nods in agreement, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sure, that sounds fun.”

"Great! Which ride should we go on first?" you ask, trying to steer the conversation away from the tension that still lingers between Namjoon and Yeonjun.

As you wait in line for the Ghostrider rollercoaster, you can't shake the feeling of tension between Namjoon and Yeonjun. Namjoon stands a little too close to you, pointedly ignoring Yeonjun's attempts at conversation and even the fling he’s here with. You exchange a concerned glance with Yeonjun, but he offers you a reassuring smile, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

You enjoy the thrill of five rides together, getting to talk to some of the college friends Jin and Namjoon brought along, as well as being silly with Jungkook. He reminds you a lot of Jimin at times, and it makes you miss him. You hadn’t seen him for sometime. 

Something else you’ve noticed during this little adventure is that Hyungseo has been trying to cling to Namjoon, however, he keeps kindly rejecting her advances. After some time, she sticks to a few of the other girls in the group, who she seems to gossip about you to. Jungkook’s fling (who you find out is named Tzuyu) is really kind, and probably the only girl to want to genuinely talk to you seeing how comfortable you are around Jungkook. And not in an overly-touchy way, 

After all the rides, the churning sensation in your stomach becomes too much to ignore. "I'm going to grab a water," you announce to the group, nodding towards the nearby concession stand. Yeonjun, Jungkook, and Jin nod in understanding, eager to continue their adventure.

“I can come with you,” Yeonjun suggests, but you shake your head slightly.

“It’s okay, Jjunie. Go join everyone else for another ride! I want you to have fun,” you assure him with a warm smile. 

“Yes, dear friend! Come join us on this quest!” Jin comments, pointing to the next ride, which looks like an insane rollercoaster.

Though he hesitates to leave you behind, he eventually nods and heads over to join Jin and the others.

As you wait in line to buy a bottle of water, Namjoon joins you, his expression unreadable. You sense his tension and decide to break the ice. "You didn’t go on the ride?” You ask.

“Nah, I’ve been feeling parched, so I wanted to grab something to drink,” he responds, his lips forming a straight line. Something is definitely amiss.

“Okay…” You reply before addressing the elephant in the room. "Hey Joonie, is everything okay?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

Namjoon hesitates for a moment before replying, "Yeah, why?" His tone is curt, and you can't help but feel a pang of annoyance.

"Namjoon, you've been acting weird towards Yeonjun all day… Plus, you aren’t hanging out with Hyungseo?" you finally confront him, unable to ignore the tension any longer. "What's going on?"

"Surprised you even remembered her name.” He chuckles “We’re just friends, nothing serious. I don’t need to be glued to her all the time.”

That sounds like a slight jab to you hanging around Yeonjun, but you’re not gonna say that.

“Ignoring my main question, I see.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, I’m not being weird. I just… don't like Yeonjun, isn’t that fair to feel? I don’t trust him either."

You furrow your brows in confusion. "What do you mean? Yeonjun is my boyfriend, and he's been nothing but kind to me."

Namjoon shakes his head, his expression firm. "I know, but I’ve heard from Jimin and the shit his dance friends said. I have a bad feeling about him. I don't want to see you get hurt."

It’s actually interesting that he brings this up right now, because you realized, that despite you hanging out with Yeonjun often, you haven’t met those dance friends. You’ve talked about wanting to dance, but he says he’ll bring you there eventually.

You feel a surge of frustration at Namjoon's stubbornness. “Namjoon, I appreciate your concern, but I'm capable of making my own decisions. Yeonjun cares about me, and I trust him.” You take the time to sigh now, “Plus, How do we know that whatever rumors they say are true. Maybe it could be some jealous ex?’

Namjoon opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, not wanting to hear any more of his unfounded suspicions. "Fine, let's just enjoy the rest of the day, okay? We can talk about this later."

“No… I want to talk about this right now. I know you, Yoongi, and Jimin might be worried that Yeonjun could be using me or even seeing someone else, but everything is going amazing right now. He’s been the sweetest boyfriend.” You sigh, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, “I just want my best friends to get along with my boyfriend. Please.”

Feeling the depth of your emotions, Namjoon's expression softens, his concern evident in his eyes. "I understand, Tiny. I'm sorry if I've made things uncomfortable," he says, his tone gentler now.

There. He says it again like he did back in June. It feels like walking on eggshells.

You nod, appreciating his willingness to listen. "It's okay, Joonie. I know you're just looking out for me," you reply, feeling some of the tension ease between you.

Namjoon lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just want what's best for you, you know? And if Yeonjun truly cares about you, then I'll do my best to support you both," he admits, his voice tinged with sincerity, but also a hint of frustration. You don’t want to comment on that. You wonder if you were in his position, would you do the same thing? Maybe.

Nonetheless, a sense of relief washes over you, grateful for Namjoon's willingness to put aside his reservations for your sake. "Thank you, Joonie. That means a lot to me," you say, offering him a small smile.

As the day comes to a close, you bid farewell to the guys, exchanging hugs and promises to hang out again soon. With Yeonjun by your side, you exit the park, the vibrant lights of the attractions fading into the distance as you make your way to his car.

The silence hangs between you for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the engine as Yeonjun starts the car. Then, breaking the quietude, Yeonjun speaks up, his voice laced with uncertainty, "Namjoon doesn't like me much, does he?"

You turn to look at him, noting the furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders. Sighing softly, you reach out to place a comforting hand on his arm. "No! It's not that he doesn't like you, Jjunie," you assure him, using the affectionate nickname you've grown fond of. "He's just protective of me, that's all."

Which you initially thought wasn’t the case, but with time, you’re starting to see it come out.

Yeonjun nods, though his expression remains troubled. "I get that," he replies, his gaze fixed on the road ahead and recounting the many stories of your past with Namjoon that you’ve told him. "But I want him to know that I care about you too, and that I'll do everything I can to make you happy."

You offer him a reassuring smile, feeling a surge of warmth at his words. "I know you will, Jjunie," you say, squeezing his arm gently. "And I appreciate that more than you know." Yeonjun stops at an empty parking lot by the lake park by his place just to prove this simple fact to you. You're not sure when you ended up in his lap but you can't complain as you run your fingers through the waves of his hair. Pressed up against him in such a tight space. The flurry of emotions has goosebumps raising on your skin and he pulls away, panting harshly. Your foreheads are touching as you gaze at each other.

"I still can't believe you want me," he almost laughs in disbelief. "Is this real or am I dreaming?"

"Of course, you're not dreaming. I do want you. Always have. None of your other crushes ever want you?" You roll your hips as a test and Yeonjun’s low moan of your name only amplifies your confidence. "How could they when they weren't me?"

He slides his seat back, the sudden motion causing you to slam a hand against the window to try to steady yourself and avoid throwing your weight against him. But that's exactly what he wants. Using the momentum to cup the round cheeks of your ass under your skirt, he positions you right where the tip of his hard cock pokes against his jeans. You can feel him through the thin piece of fabric that is your already ruined panties.

"You're so wet, baby," he murmurs against your lips. "All for me, yeah? No one else, no other guy could soak your pussy like me, right?"

Even if it was a lie (which it wasn't), you can only agree because Yeonjun doesn't move an inch until a resounding yes leaves your lips. It's another scrambled blur as you fight to undo his belt and pull his jeans in the small space you have. 

Just like your love for him.

You let out a relieved sigh when his cock is in your hand and Yeonjun moans, throwing his head back. You'd moved down a bit so you could jerk him off easier, giggling at how he twitches when he feels the heat of your pulsating cunt leaking all over his thigh.

Then, once prepped, Yeonjun slides your panties to the side and prepares to roll a condom down on his length. He lets his head fall forehead and softly bumps your forehead with his as you attempt to sink down on his dick. He keeps his fingers splayed across both of your hips, bunching up the fabric of your short skirt so he can watch the way your puffy pussy lips part and wrap around the tip of his thick, hard cock.

And then eventually, after a series of thrusts, rolls, and moans of “jjunie” and “princess”,  you both reach orgasm.

Yes, this is the world you want to stay in. You don’t want this to end.

August 21st, 20XX [Monday]

The faint sounds of a video game’s battle music filled Yoongi’s living room, but none of the guys were paying attention. The controllers lay discarded on the couch, forgotten as they discussed a far more pressing issue.

"I feel like I'm gonna lose my mind," Namjoon groaned, throwing an arm over his face as he leaned back on the couch, staring blankly up at the ceiling. His frustration hanged in the air.

“Well, what can you do? She loves the guy and he seems to love her. We just gotta let them be.” Yoongi muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.

“Yeah, and I found out that guy is really just a total dick! Are you really just going to ‘let them be’ while knowing that?” Jimin snapped from the other side of the room, his voice sharp with disbelief.

Taehyung, perched on the edge of the couch, chimed in, his tone more neutral. "Come on, he can't be that bad." He glanced at Hoseok, who nodded thoughtfully in agreement. Jimin, however, was having none of it. "Oh, he's that bad," he insisted, leaning forward with an intensity that had everyone’s attention. "Some of my dancer mutuals told me Yeonjun was completely head over heels for Y/N, but suddenly he's been cozying up to some of the college freshmen girls who just moved into the city for university. They go to the same dance center he trains at. If that doesn’t say something about him and a change in behavior, I don’t know what will."

"Maybe he's just being friendly?" Taehyung suggested, elbowing Jimin playfully. "Isn't he like that? Aren't you like that?"

Jimin shot him a glare, clearly annoyed. "You see, compared to me, I don’t act all friendly and even touchy with other people, especially girls, while I’m dating someone. That’s making it seem like I’m not interested in my partner, which is what Yeonjun’s showing.” “I thought you guys collectively agreed you wouldn't care about who she was seeing and wouldn't let it get in the way of your lives,” Hoseok pointed out, his voice calm but firm.

The pact. Jimin, Yoongi and Namjoon made that to not let their feelings get in the way of your friendship with them, but they would also try to continue to support you in dating another man, even if it wasn’t them.

Emphasis on “try”, it wasn’t working. Hoseok had heard about this pact, but the other guys don’t know the details or extent of everything.

"I mean, we tried," Namjoon admitted with a heavy sigh, dragging his hand down his face. "But how can we just sit back and let this happen when we know he's... he's not good for her? She deserves better."

Yoongi's fingers drummed absentmindedly on his knee, his usually calm demeanor cracking ever so slightly. "Hoseok's right, though. We said we wouldn’t let this ruin things. But watching her with him? It’s harder than I thought. We don’t even talk to her as much as we used to. Even college had me feeling distanced."

Jimin threw his phone at the floor in frustration, stuttering. "B-But If Yeonjun’s messing around behind her back, we can’t just sit here and do nothing!"

The room fell into a heavy silence. Even the game’s background music seemed to fade into the distance. It was clear that the pact, once meant to protect their friendship and their feelings for you, was now a source of inner conflict when you’re with someone else.

Hoseok, who hadn’t been as deeply involved in the situation, finally spoke up. "So, what are you guys gonna do? Intervene and risk her getting mad at you all, or let it play out and see if she figures it out on her own?"

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with an emotion none of them could name. Deep down, he knew the answer to that question. And it wasn’t going to be easy.

Namjoon, staring at the ceiling again, said quietly, “Maybe Hoseok’s right. We’re the ones who need to figure out what we’re doing—before we lose her entirely. Let’s just let her be.” Yoongi and Jimin exchanged pained glances, both struggling to accept the decision they knew they had to make. Despite the knot tightening in their chests, it was clear that the only path left was to respect your choices. You seem to trust Yeonjun and Yeonjun seems to do that too, however with time, people’s true colors start to bleed through like the pages written in Sharpie ink. 

It’s only a matter of time before you’d see it too. That despite getting closer to Yeonjun, his spark would eventually flicker and dim.

And that’s what happened.

September 10, 20XX [Sunday]

Yeonjun drove you to campus for move-in day, his car filled to the brim with boxes filled with your things to move into college. Despite the conversations and silly banter you had with him throughout the two hour car ride to campus, something felt off about him. You couldn’t pin point it. Maybe he’s sad that you’re going to be apart for sometime? But his school is still relatively close enough for you to hang out on weekends. He’s being allowed to take his car to campus, so lucky of him.

For the stuff that didn’t fit in his car, you kindly begged Yoongi to add to his car filled with Jimin’s stuff. And he kindly allowed it. A win for you! 

You think back to when Yoongi arrived at your house to pick up your stuff, it had been the first time you saw him in over a month. He had cut his hair, styled it differently from the usually bowl cut style he’d sport. He looked… good.

Jimin had the longer bowl cut look, which he sat in the box trying to not get crushed by boxes. Namjoon stepped into the passenger seat, his hair short as well. It felt relieving to see them alive and well after some time. You hadn’t seen Namjoon since the amusement park date.

You’d thought you’d get to see them more often, but good thing is that you’ll be at the same school again.

“Thank you guys for helping Jimin and me move into our dorm,” you chirped, flashing a grin as you gave Namjoon and Yoongi a playful pat on the back. You walked beside them, rolling up a cart piled high with a ridiculous amount of boxes.

“Anytime, just for you,” Yoongi sang in his usual deadpan way, though the small smile tugging at his lips gave him away.

Namjoon chuckled, glancing over at the mountain of stuff. “You sure this is everything? Feels like you packed your whole life.”

You shrugged, grinning. "Gotta be prepared for anything."

Yoongi nods, smirking as he adds, “Yeah, just don’t forget who helped when it’s time to hang stuff up.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Don’t worry, I’ll keep that in mind. Decorating party at my place later, right?"

The campus had mostly quieted down by the afternoon, some students already attending some of the orientation/back to school festivities. Most of the freshmen had already moved in that morning, leaving the dorm halls a lot less chaotic. Jimin, who had been assigned to the same building as you but lived four doors down the hall, had already unpacked most of his things earlier. Yoongi and Namjoon, being sophomores, had moved into their dorm across the quad the day before, making them more than willing to lend a hand.

As you all approach the open door to your dorm, you see Yeonjun inside, standing in front of your roommate’s side of the room, helping unpack some things. His face brightens when he spots you. “Hey, Princess,” he greeted with a charming smile, lifting a small stack of books. “Where do you want these?”

You paused for a second, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight of him in your space. "Oh, just put them on the desk for now," you said, trying to sound nonchalant as you wheeled the cart in.

Yoongi, walking in behind you, exchanged a glance with Namjoon. They didn’t say anything, but the tension was palpable. You could feel it hanging in the air between them and Yeonjun, though neither had the courage—or the willingness—to voice whatever was on their minds.

Jimin entered your room after finishing unpacking the major things he had boxed up in his dorm room, "Still can't believe we're neighbors now. You'll be crashing at my place in no time."

You laugh softly and punch his arm lightly. "We’ll see about that."

Namjoon, with his typical smirk, adds, "Don't let her get too comfortable, Jimin. She might just never leave."

“Haha, as if. I’ll be fine in the comfort of my own hut here, once I get everything set up, that is.”

As everyone helped unpack, the awkwardness lingered, though Yoongi and Namjoon seemed to make an effort to push through it. You couldn't help but notice their eyes occasionally flitting toward Yeonjun, especially when he got too close to you. And while Yeonjun remained his usual confident self, you couldn’t shake the feeling that even he sensed the underlying tension.

After a while, Yoongi cleared his throat. “Alright, I think we’ve done our part. Plus, I’m hungry. You guys want anything for a late lunch? I’ll go with Namjoon and bring it over to eat here.”

“Are you getting it from the dining hall or off campus?”

Namjoon chuckled. “We’ve got a Pizza My Heart right across the street at the university town center. I don’t think we should subject you to dining hall hell yet.”

You laughed. “Fair! Just get me whatever looks good, as long as it doesn’t have olives.”

“Okay, princess,” Yoongi teased sarcastically, earning a laugh from everyone—well, except Yeonjun, whose expression was unreadable.

“We’ll be back soon,” Yoongi added as he stood up, nudging Namjoon to follow.

Jimin stood up as well, stretching his arms. “I’m gonna be back. I need to grab my MacBook charger from Jungkook. He’s on the first floor.”

You nodded, “Alright, see you soon.”

As the others left, you were left alone with Yeonjun, and suddenly the room felt a bit quieter. You could sense the shift in the air, but decided not to address it yet. Instead, you turned to him and smiled. “Thanks again for all the help today.”

He smiled back, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, anything for you."

After setting up the bedding, you sat on your bed, cross-legged, while Yeonjun at on the floor, scrolling through his phone before going back to taking things out of your boxes. The energy in the room was quieter, almost unsettling, and even though nothing had really happened, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something felt… off. Maybe it was how distant Yeonjun had been, or how little he’d said since Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jimin left.

“So, are you going to rush for a frat?” you asked, trying to cut through the awkwardness in the air. He’d mentioned it before as a joke, but now that school was starting, you wonder if he was seriously considering it.

Yeonjun shrugged. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, some of the guys I know are rushing, so it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”

You smiled, though it felt forced. “That's cool. I guess it’s like… a built-in social life, huh?”

“Yeah, and the connections, I heard, could be good for internships or something. I don’t know much yet, but I’ll figure it out,” he replied, his voice sounding unusually flat.

You shifted, adjusting the pillow behind your back. “I was looking into joining some clubs too. There's the Korean Student Association and Intramural Volleyball club that sound fun, and there’s also this creative collective for business students interested in marketing and branding. I think it could be a great way to meet people and maybe do something more hands-on.”

Yeonjun nodded, but you noticed his attention was drifting, like he wasn’t really invested in the conversation. That was when you felt the first pang of unease. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself it was just nerves from the whole “new chapter” thing.

“So, what do you think? Should I go for all? I know it’s a lot, but I kind of want to try everything.”

Yeonjun glanced up at you, meeting your eyes for a split second before looking away again. His jaw tightened a little, and there was this flicker of something in his expression—something you couldn’t quite read. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he said, his voice strained, like he was forcing himself to sound supportive. “It’s… it’s really great that you’re finding your path.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, sensing the shift. He wasn’t being weird, not exactly, but something in his tone wasn’t right. It was like he was holding back. You weren’t sure whether to push him or let it go, but the knot in your stomach only grew tighter.

“Yeonjun, is everything good? You seem a little... off.” You laughed lightly, hoping to ease whatever tension was in the air.

He let out a slow breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "I’ve just been thinking about some stuff.”

Oh.

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like…” His voice trailed off, the words hanging in the air between you. The pause felt longer than it should have, and your pulse quickened. 

He stood up from where he’d been sitting on the floor, crossing his arms as he looked at you—really looked at you—like he was trying to brace himself for whatever he was about to say.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, and the dread that had been quietly bubbling up inside you suddenly spiked.

“Y/N…" His voice was serious, and when his eyes met yours, they didn’t hold the warmth you were used to. Instead, they were cold, distant, like he was already somewhere else. “Let’s break up.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process the words that had come out of his mouth. Did he really just say what you thought he said? “…What?”

“I think we should break up,” he repeated, this time with more conviction, like he’d already made the decision long before this moment. His tone was so matter-of-fact, so detached, it almost didn’t feel real.

You blinked, frozen in place. Your brain was scrambling to catch up to the situation, but all you could do was stare at him, disbelief washing over you. This couldn’t be happening. Not now, not like this. You had just been talking about school, about clubs, about the future—things that felt exciting. You’ve been dating all summer, and you were about to start a new chapter together after years of being rivals. And now, just like that, he was ending it?

“Yeonjun…” you finally managed to say, your voice quiet and shaky. “Where is this coming from? We were just—everything was fine…”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. We’re going to college, we’re going to meet new people… things are gonna change.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut. “So… that’s it? You’ve been thinking about it for a while, and now you just… drop this on me? In the middle of you helping me move in to my dorm? Right before I start my first day of college tomorrow”

Yeonjun didn’t look at you, his jaw tightening as he stood there, silent. It was clear he had made up his mind, but that didn’t stop the confusion and hurt from flooding you.

Yeonjun looked down, avoiding your gaze. "I’m sorry, Y/N," he finally muttered, his voice soft but resolute.

You watched as he turned toward the door, his hands slipping into his pockets as if he’d already checked out of this moment. He was leaving. He was actually walking away.

You got off your bed, wanting to chase after him, hoping to somehow find out the real reason why. What he said can’t be the answer!

 However, because you were sitting cross-legged, your legs had fallen asleep, causing you to stumble and fall to the carpeted floor. You groan from the sudden contact, fists balling up.

“...After everything, you’re just gonna walk away, Yeonjun?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, a mix of anger and heartbreak clawing at your chest.

Yeonjun paused for a moment at the door but didn’t turn around. The silence felt crushing, like the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving only the hollow space between you. He didn’t say anything, just opened the door and stepped out, leaving you sitting there in a daze.

Namjoon and Yoongi walked back into your dorm building after someone from inside buzzed them in. Each of them held a pizza box from Pizza My Heart, the one right across the street, with paper plates tucked under one arm and little packets of crushed red pepper and parmesan balanced on top. They were deep in conversation about Yoongi's music, as usual.

"I’m kinda jealous," Namjoon admitted, balancing the pizzas as they headed up the stairs. "You get to fully dive into that and make it your thing. Already producing amazing music at your age too. I don’t even know what my thing is yet."

Yoongi had been producing tracks for people on a freelance basis, just because he fell in love with it. Thanks to you encouraging him in the past. Namjoon had wanted to do a similar thing, however, he doesn’t think he could be as great at Yoongi. Plus there were other things he wanted to do on his mind.

Yoongi shrugged, his casual confidence showing through. "You’ll figure it out, man. You’ve got time. It’s not like everything’s set in stone."

Namjoon let out a soft chuckle, but it was tinged with uncertainty. "I’m leaning toward doing work in writing or art conservation… I just love how it connects culture and history, you know? But I’m majoring in polisci like my mom wanted. It feels more... secure, I guess. Something to lean on if I don’t find my footing elsewhere."

Yoongi nodded, understanding but focused. "That makes sense. You're always reading up on political theory in your free time, so it’s not like it’s a waste either."

As they climbed the stairs, they reached the hallway leading to your dorm when Namjoon noticed Yeonjun walking in the opposite direction, clearly in a hurry. Something about his rushed pace felt… wrong. Instinctively, Namjoon called out, "Yo, Yeonjun!"

But Yeonjun kept moving, not even glancing in their direction. He usually wasn’t the most chatty guy around Namjoon, but he always acknowledged him. This time? Nothing.

"That’s weird," Namjoon muttered, looking over at Yoongi, who was already watching him with raised eyebrows. Yoongi sensed it too—something was off.

They quickened their pace toward your dorm room. As they approached, they saw that the door was slightly ajar. Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat, his fingers tightening on the pizza boxes. Why was the door open?

Pushing the door open, they stepped inside and immediately froze.

You were sitting on the floor, devastation clear in your eyes. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but you didn’t make a sound. Your arms were limp, hands resting on your lap, and your eyes stared blankly ahead, as if everything around you had collapsed in that moment.

Namjoon’s heart sank to the floor, the pizza boxes feeling like dead weight in his hands. He didn’t need an explanation to understand what had just happened, but Yoongi was the one to break the heavy silence. “What… happened?” Yoongi’s voice was low and careful, as if even asking might shatter the fragile state you were in.

You didn’t look up, but your voice came out, flat and hollow. "He broke up with me."

Namjoon’s breath hitched. That was all you needed to say. He immediately set the pizza boxes down, shoving them into Yoongi’s arms without a word and rushed out of the room, determination in his steps.

What the hell, Yeonjun? Namjoon thought as he bolted down the hall. His mind raced, a mixture of anger and disbelief bubbling up inside him. How could you just do that? Out of nowhere?

Namjoon reached the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time as his thoughts continued to swirl. He barely registered his surroundings as he burst through the door and out into the parking lot, scanning the area for any sign of Yeonjun.

But he was already gone.

Namjoon stood there, breathing hard, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His mind replayed the sight of you on the floor, shattered, and the empty hallway where Yeonjun had disappeared. He cursed under his breath, staring out into the empty parking lot, feeling utterly helpless.

Upon returning to your dorm, Namjoon stepped inside to find you crumpled against Yoongi’s shoulder, your sobs tearing through the quiet room. Yoongi sat there, his arm around you, giving gentle, soothing pats on your back. His expression was calm, but his eyes were clouded with concern

Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung had shown up, standing a few feet away, clearly unsure of how to approach the situation. They exchanged worried glances, but didn’t dare say anything, afraid to make things worse.

Namjoon stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair in frustration before speaking. “He’s gone,” he said flatly, his voice carrying the weight of disappointment and anger.

You didn’t even look up. Your voice, fragile and broken, managed to slip through the tears. “It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. Namjoon could hear it in the way your voice cracked, in the way your body trembled against Yoongi. The room was silent, save for your quiet sobs, and the tension hung heavily between all of you.

Jimin stepped forward, kneeling down next to you. "Hey," he said softly, his tone as gentle as he could muster. "We’re here. You don’t have to go through this alone, alright?"

Taehyung, standing behind Jimin, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got us now too.” He referred to him, Jungkook, Hoseok and Seokjin. “Whatever you need, just say the word.”

"Should we go hunt Yeonjun down and beat the shit out of him?" Jungkook chimes in, his tone was both serious and protective. “Namjoon hyung and I will take care of it!”

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, momentarily startled by the boldness, but the hint of anger in his eyes showed he wasn’t entirely against the idea. “It wouldn’t be that hard to find him, right?” he added, cracking his knuckles.

A part of you almost wanted to say yes, let them go after him. Let someone else feel this rage, this betrayal, the way you were feeling it now. But would it fix anything? The thought of them confronting Yeonjun, of this turning into something more, twisted in your stomach. You didn’t want that kind of drama. You didn’t want to give Yeonjun the satisfaction of knowing he’d affected you this deeply.

“As satisfying as that might sound, we probably shouldn’t resort to violence.” Jimin glanced at you, his soft gaze almost apologetic, as if he knew this was far from enough to make up for what just happened.

A small, dry laugh escaped your lips, surprising even yourself. “I don’t think beating him up will change anything. But… I appreciate the thought.”

You were trying to keep it together, but every breath felt heavier than the last. There was a numbness creeping into your limbs, a strange feeling of disassociation. Like you were watching everything from the outside, seeing your friends rally around you, but not fully present in your own skin. How did it get to this point? Just hours ago, everything seemed okay. You'd laughed with Yeonjun, talked about plans with your best friends, even looked forward to your classes... and then, out of nowhere, he tore everything apart.

Jungkook still looked like he was ready to throw down. “It’s not fair that he just walks away like that! You deserve better!”

Better. You nodded slowly, the reality of the situation starting to sink in. You did deserve better, didn’t you? But for some reason, it felt like you couldn’t quite believe it. Like a part of you was still stuck on the idea that maybe you’d done something wrong, that you weren’t enough. You shook off the thought before it could take root. “I know. It just… hurts.”

It really does.

Yoongi’s hand stayed firm on your shoulder, grounding you. “You’ve got us. That’s what matters right now.”

Namjoon sighed, letting go of some of the anger building up inside him. “We’ll handle Yeonjun another way if we need to,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “But for now, let’s focus on getting you through this.”

His words hit you harder than you expected. They were trying so hard to help you, to lift you up, and you appreciated it more than you could ever say. But even with their support, there was an ache inside you that you couldn’t shake. A part of you felt so small, so foolish, for letting Yeonjun in just for him to leave like this. 

Jimin and Taehyung, sensing the heavy atmosphere, suggested playing games or heading over to Hoseok and Seokjin’s off-campus rental to distract you. They were trying to lift the mood, and though you appreciated their efforts, you weren’t quite up for it. You mustered a small smile, grateful for how much they cared, but the weight of your heartbreak still anchored you. The thought of how lucky you were to have them by your side helped, but it didn’t ease the pain completely.

As the afternoon slowly bled into the evening, you left the dorm with your friends to explore the campus before classes began the next day. You did your best to seem like you were okay, like crying it out and eating pizza had made you feel better. But even though you laughed at their jokes and joined in the conversation, you couldn’t fool them. They knew you were struggling beneath the surface.

In the days that followed, despite the distraction of your new routine, the heartache lingered like a dull ache. You kept busy, throwing yourself into unpacking, attending orientation events, and exploring the campus with your friends. But no matter how much you tried to move on, Yeonjun's sudden departure haunted you, lingering in your thoughts when you least expected it. Even surrounded by friends and laughter, there was always a hollow space where he used to be.

You tried to shake it off, but the sadness crept in, even more as classes started and the reality of college life sank in. You knew it would take time, but for now, pretending to be fine was the best you could do.

Your first year of college was supposed to be exciting, but much of it blurred together, like walking through a fog. The daily routines, classes, and dorm life all seemed to meld into one long stretch of time, where the only thing that truly stood out were small, vivid memories—those moments where everything suddenly felt in color. One of those was the day you met Ahn Hyejin, known around campus as Hwasa. It was a week into the semester when you finally worked up the courage to go to the Fall Club Fair and join a club. The guys wanted you to go check it out, hoping this would get you out of your daze. And it kinda did help.

You’ve never had a female close friend before. Usually girls would steer clear of you out of jealousy for being friends with Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin.

However, Hwasa was different. Hwasa was bold, unafraid to speak her mind, and had a way of making you feel like you were exactly where you needed to be. She didn’t care about the other guys, as she also had close guy friends too. She quickly became the friend you didn’t realize you needed. With her, you started feeling more like yourself again. Together, you explored the campus, hit up the best food spots, and even talked about bigger things, like what you wanted from life and what it meant to start fresh. Each step forward was a tiny rebellion against the lingering thoughts of Yeonjun.

Bit by bit, you immersed yourself in college life, finding comfort in new experiences, distractions, and laughter. Parties. Maybe a little bit of underage drinking in moderation, of course. Slowly, the weight of that breakup lifted, and you began to focus on your future, your passions, and the friends who were always there for you. In time, Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, and the rest of the group became even more important to you. Their support, the inside jokes, and all the moments shared together filled the spaces that had once been occupied by the pain of Yeonjun leaving.

One afternoon in late spring, you found yourself sitting on the campus lawn with Yoongi, watching one of Yoongi’s band friends perform at the Spring Fling. Students sit around you two, while a gentle breeze swept through the budding trees. He was fixing the strings on his guitar, which he recently started to learn to play. He was lost in thought as usual, while you sat beside him, enjoying music and the warmth of the sun on your skin.

“You’ve changed,” he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You turned to look at him, a bit surprised by the observation. “In what way?”

He glanced up from his guitar, his eyes soft but serious. “I don’t know... you just seem lighter. More like yourself again.”

You smiled, feeling the weight of his words. “Is that so? I think I’m finally starting to let that thing go.”

Yoongi nodded, strumming another chord. “It’s good to see. We were all worried for a while... after Yeonjun.”

At the mention of his name, you expected to feel that familiar sting, the one that usually sat in your chest whenever you thought about him. But this time, it wasn’t as sharp. “Yeah,” you murmured, looking down at your hands, “I was a mess for a while, but that’s life. I thought the relationship meant something bigger, but ”

“You weren’t a mess,” Yoongi corrected, his voice calm and measured, “you were healing.”

You took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. Healing. That’s exactly what it was. Slowly but surely, piece by piece, you were putting yourself back together. And in that moment, sitting beside Yoongi on the grass, watching the band play, you realized just how far you’d come. The fog had started to lift.

Spring had a way of bringing new beginnings, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were ready for yours.

But that was just the beginning of another story—the one you wouldn’t fully understand until much later.

–

A/N: thank you for reading! if you're be interested, please check out my 'love u lately' series focused on Yoongi x Namjoon x Jimin x Reader. happy yeonjun day!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ love u lately series masterlist

[hihello-pinky]

Sight (6)

Suna Rintarou x F! Reader

Sometimes, it takes losing someone to finally see them. He wished he knew this before, but Rintaro had to learn this the hard way.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and in no way represents my views of the original anime/manga characters.

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, explicit smut (unprotected, rough sex) -> lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 6k+

Finally, an update! Thank you for staying with this fic despite my very slow updates. There might be 2-3 parts left before the end; depends on your answer to my question at the end of this chapter! haha (wink, wink)

Kindly reblog, like, and/or leave a comment if you loved this chapter and let me know what you think! xoxo

part one ༘⋆ part two ༘⋆ part three ༘⋆ part four ༘⋆ part five

kofi for tips 💌 ~~

˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚ - - - ˚✧₊⁎⁎⁺˳✧༚

Twenty-five days.

Suna Rintarou swears he isn’t keeping track, but his stupid brain screams the number at him. It’s been twenty-five days of torture - his mind plagued with thoughts of wanting to kiss you.

Kiss you, kiss you, kiss you, kiss you, kiss you.

He’s had the urge in the past but all of those times were out of the haze of sexual intimacy. His current dilemma, which began 25 days ago, is something else.

It had been a mundane Saturday morning. The kids were already up and engrossed in the TV show they both loved so much. Suna was in the kitchen, trying to be of help as you prepared breakfast.

The menu for that day was sunny side-ups paired with hotdogs. You were trying to show him how to perfectly crack eggs open when he moved to stand beside you to look closer. Your hand slipped, spoon cracking against the egg and he laughed. You moved to chastise him and in turn, the egg white from the cracked shell plopped against him.

With widened eyes, you gasped and then, backed with a barely contained giggle, apologized to him. The sound of your laughter was sweet and the way your eyes turned into little crescents tugged at Suna’s heart.

At that moment, he badly wanted to kiss you - to feel your laughter through your lips.

Now, he finds himself at the balcony of your bedroom, eyes turned towards the moonless sky with a lollipop in his mouth. Through the open door, he can hear the faint sound of the shower and he groans, urging his mind to not stray towards other thoughts.

He feels foolish with these emotions that you’re bringing out of him. Granted, they’re not unfamiliar, but it’s been several years since he’s had these feelings. And truth be told, Suna never thought he’d feel this way again: wanting to love someone.

He knows what he’s feeling for you is more than just platonic. But Suna is also pretty sure that he isn’t in love with you.

Yet.

“Rin?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. “Would you mind closing the door? The breeze is coming through.” He sees that you’re now done with your shower, robe wrapped around your body with a towel in your hand.

He bites off the remaining lollipop and chucks the stick at the small bin by the balcony. Shortly after, he joins you in the room but not before making sure the door is securely locked behind him.

The smell of your green-apple hair conditioner hits him almost immediately. It’s a scent he has ignored for years but now that he’s free from his pride to admire every little thing about you, he basks in the scent. He then makes his way to the vanity. “Do you need help drying your hair off?”

Your curious eyes meet his through the mirror and after a few slow blinks, you nod. He takes over the towel and you open a drawer to bring out the dryer.

For a few moments, your eyes watch him work with the towel, gently squeezing clumps of your hair for the last drops of water possible. Then, before passing the hair-blower to him, you say, “You’re gonna end up with cavities given all the candies and lollipops you’ve been having.”

“They’re working, though,” he replies. “I haven’t smoked in over a month.”

You smile at him. “I’m so proud of you.” And then, as if deciding on what to say next, you add, “I wish there is another alternative so you won’t have to take too much sweets.”

Maybe it’s the proud look on your face. Maybe it’s the way your lips pucker out in a cute pout. Or maybe, he’s just so tired of counting the days.

Finally, Suna says, “What about a kiss?”

The way your eyes immediately widen is almost comical. “W-what?”

Suna only laughs as he takes the hair dryer from you, the brief skin contact making you blush. He shakes his head, smiling. “Nothing.”

“Huh?” you try to turn around so you’re face to face but he places a hand on your shoulder.

“Stay still.”

“But…”

“Y/N. Let’s dry your hair first, okay?”

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Drying one’s hair is supposed to take around five to ten minutes only, but after Rintarou’s question, it feels like it’s taking an hour. It’s not helping that he’s standing so close to you, hands gently drying your hair, warmth radiating from his body.

Once finished, you immediately turn on the seat. “Rin.”

“Y/N.”

The question comes to the tip of your tongue but never leaves your mouth. You bite your lip instead and avoid eye contact. “N-nevermind.”

As you try to stand, Rintarou stops you. “You’re cute when you blush, did you know that?”

You don’t answer, knowing full well that his remark only made your already flushing cheeks redden even more.

Suna sighs before cupping your cheek tenderly, urging you to look at him. Once your eyes meet his, he rubs a gentle circle on your skin. “I want to kiss you.”

It feels like your heart is beating a hundred miles per minute. Did you hear him correctly? He wants to kiss you? Suna Rintarou, the man who never kissed you in the five years you’ve been married? Suna Rintarou, the man who didn’t bother to kiss you on your wedding day?

I want to kiss you.

A lot of things have changed in the past months but still, Suna manages to surprise you. You feel like a teenager navigating romance for the first time again.

Another gentle rub on your cheek brings you back to the present, where Suna is saying he wants to kiss you. “Well? Are you going to allow me to kiss you, Y/N?”

Your only response is a meek nod to which Suna shakes his head. “I want you to say it. Tell me that you want me to kiss you.”

He never once breaks eye contact as he says those words. The urge to look away is so strong, for you feel like the longer you stare into Suna’s eyes, all the emotions inside of you will break out. Burst into a bubble that would consume you. It’s going to be cool, but suffocating.

Instead, your eyes remain on him, trying to decipher if there’s any ill-intentions in them.

You only see sincerity… and pained longing. As if every minute you’re not asking him to kiss you is bringing him immense pain.

But kissing him… it’s going to be a big step in your relationship. Granted, the two of you have been sleeping with each other again. But kissing is an entire thing different from sex. You’ve never kissed during sex before. Kissing him now would mean…

Rin doesn’t speak with words, but the way his thumb grazes your cheek once more tells you that he’s waiting. Finally, you decide to pocket the fears you have about kissing him. “Kiss me, Rin.”

He exhales in relief as he leans down and the distance between your lips get smaller and smaller and smaller and you get the sweet taste of his strawberry lollipop from earlier.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Goodbye, 25 days. Suna thinks to himself that night, as you lay sleeping beside him.

It’s just a kiss, but he can’t stop himself from feeling warm at the memory of your lips against his.

It’s just a kiss, but he feels like he’s on top of the world.

It’s just a kiss, but when he finally falls asleep that night, a stupid smile is on his face.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

In the following days, Suna learns that he has found a new addiction.

Waking up in the morning? A kiss on your lips.

Thanking you after finishing a meal? A kiss on your lips.

Saying goodbye before leaving for work? A kiss on your lips.

Seeing you after arriving at home? A kiss on your lips.

It’s not just even the feeling of your lips against his that makes him addicted to it - he’s also enamored by your reaction every time you kiss.

The way your breath hitches a little as your lips meet, and the soft sigh you let out once you part almost always bring a flood of warmth to his chest.

“Are you going out today or staying home for work?” Since you’ve been getting better, you have started to resume working again.

If it were up to Suna, he wouldn’t want you to work at all. Your current job is not demanding at all, minimal reports needed. He remembers helping you get it five years ago, when you had opened up to him about the missed opportunity after your graduation. Still, he knows you enjoy what little you do at work, so he can’t ask you to leave it.

“I’ll stay in today,” he hears your response. “I’ll visit the office on Friday.”

He makes a mental note to himself. “Okay.” And then, “Do we have any plans this weekend?”

He adjusts the cuffs of his long-sleeved shirt as he hears you hum in contemplation. “Ah! Hajime invited us for Kenta’s birthday party this coming Saturday, right?”

Of course. Suna remembers the conversation two weeks before. He remembers trying to tame the jealousy brewing deep within him as the older man talked to you. He knows he has nothing to be jealous about. You’re just naturally sweet and friendly while Iwaizumi apparently started seeing someone.

“I almost forgot,” he confesses as he approaches you to where you’re lounging at the sofa. You’re currently waiting for your laptop to finish installing its update before you start work. “Do we have a gift already?”

“I actually ordered something but it’s stuck in one of the sorting hubs. If it doesn’t arrive by Friday, maybe we can drop by the mall or something?”

“Okay. I’ll go now, then. See you later.” He crosses the short distance between you, hand already cupping your face as he kisses you goodbye.

And if Suna is smiling while driving on the way to work, thinking about your goodbye kiss, then no one has to know.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Express delivery, as is turns out, do not always live up to its name. It’s now Friday and the package carrying your gift for Kenta has made no movement from the sorting hub. You’re at your table at work, waiting for Rin to pick you up after you texted him that you would need to drop by the mall first.

The children are at their grandparents since this morning and you’ll be picking them up when you and Rin go to their house for breakfast tomorrow. You look at the picture on your phone. Rintarou is splayed on the bed with the twins all over him. It’s from last weekend, when your kids had come to wake the two of you up.

Your heart is instantly flooded with warmth and joy. You didn’t think it’s going to be possible, but years later, here you are with a happy family despite of the circumstances. You couldn’t ask for more.

The notification on your phone alerts you that Rin is almost at your office building. You bid goodbye to your colleagues. As the door to the elevator begins to close, you see a woman rushing towards it. Luckily, you’re able to press the ‘hold door’ button immediately.

“Thank you,” the woman sighs in relief as she shoots you a grateful, sweet smile. She’s an unfamiliar face, which is not a surprise to you since you rarely visit the office and interact with people outside of your core department.

“No problem,” you reply while mirroring her smile, before turning your gaze ahead.

You’re about to settle on that elevator silence between strangers when the woman speaks. “For a building with over 30 floors, you’d think they have more than three working elevators.”

You hum in agreement. “The ‘under construction’ signs at the other two elevators have been there forever, right?”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t know.” She lets out a small laugh. “I’ve only been here for two weeks. I’m in a contractual project, actually.”

The elevator doors open and you two walk out, still conversing. “Ah, may I ask what project?”

“Hitomi-chan’s passion project,” the woman replies with a smile. “I’m in-charge of photography.”

You feel foolish only noticing the camera bag slung on her left shoulder. “I see. You must be very good, then. Hitomi knows to pick partners well.”

A sweet laughter spills from her again, her cheeks blushing a little. “You’re too kind…”

“Y/N,” you reply, as you both approach the exit.

The woman extends a hand. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. You can call me Serin.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Serin.”

A security staff of the building approaches the two of you. “Your husband’s car just pulled up at the parking area, Mrs. Suna.”

Serin’s grasp on your handshake falters a little. “Oh, you need to go?”

“Yes. See you around the office, Serin.”

She gives you one last smile before waving goodbye. “See you around!”

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

You’re only supposed to buy a gift for Kenta but two hours at the mall later, you and Suna are pushing one big cart of shopping carts each. You don’t talk as you navigate the parking space, but the exchange of smiles and grins speaks a lot.

“Why did we buy so much?” You ask as you watch Rin load the bags into the car. “We’re such impulsive buyers, oh god.”

“Hey, don’t feel bad splurging sometimes. We all deserve to spoil ourselves once in a while.”

“Is that why you bought a large fox plushie?” Your voice is laced with teasing. “I didn’t know you’re into stuffed toys.”

Suna loads the last bags before closing the door. “I bought that for you, though.” He takes your hand and leads you to the front passenger seat, opening its door. “And don’t act as if you weren’t looking at it with heart eyes when I showed it to you.”

You make yourself comfortable in the seat. “Sure.”

Suna scoffs playfully before shaking his head as he swats your hand away and puts the belt on you himself. “Okay, you’re never allowed to hold it ever, then.”

You fake gasp. “Really? Then that makes me sad.”

He leans in and kisses against the pout on your lips. “You’re so cute, Y/N,” he says once he pulls away.

“And you’re so silly, Rin.” This time, you’re the one who leans in and pecks his lips. As you’re about to pull away, you feel Suna’s hand on your head before he tries to deepen the kiss.

A small whine leaves your lips and gets swallowed by Suna immediately before he finally pulls away.

“Rin…”

You’re breathing heavily and he’s in no better situation. His eyes have darkened and the way he looks at you makes you squirm on the seat. You avert your gaze. “L-let’s go home.”

It takes him a beat to answer. “Yeah. Okay, sure.” He pulls back, squeezes your upper thigh, and then closes the door for you. You’re still not looking at him when he gets in the driver’s seat and maneuvers the car outside of the parking lot.

Once you’re on the road, one of his hands lets go of the wheel and reaches for you blindly before landing on your thigh. It stays there for a whole minute before you remove it. You lace your fingers together and place it on your lap instead.

Suna hums in contentment as he continues to drive, but not before squeezing your hand. You don’t even notice that he’s driving at the fastest allowable speed limit.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

You’re glad that your children are at your in-laws’ house as you hear the incessant and loud creaking sound of the bed, paired with the headboard’s rhythmic slamming against the wall. Rintarou is groaning against your lips as his hips are working overtime in thrusting against yours.

“Fuck,” he whispers before capturing your lips in another frenzied kiss. “You feel so damn good, shit.” He’s heavily breathing and making lots of noise than usual.

You would have called him out for it if you were doing any better. “Ah, Rin, ah… right there.” Your words are cut off as he kisses you again.

Tonight’s sex feels different. It’s not only because it’s the first time you two are kissing during the deed. Right now, it feels as if Rintarou wants to tell you something through his actions.

His unforgiving thrusts continue, the onslaught of pleasure throughout your body unending. You already know you’re going to be sore tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him to be less rough. He’s hitting all the right spots and all the sounds that you’re both making are only adding heat to the room.

“It feels like your pussy wants to swallow me whole.” He pulls back slightly so he can see the probably messed up and fucked out expression on your face. “I love the way it pulls me in. Fuck, you’re so tight. Feels so fucking good!”

His words bring you to an unexpected orgasm and you whine with volume. It doesn’t deter him as he continues his hips’ movements. His lips are quick to silence you as he begins to move inside of you faster.

You should probably feel embarrassed with the sloppy, wet noises that your bodies are creating but it just feels so good. Your head is empty and all your mind can do is chant his name repeatedly.

Rintarou. Rin. Rintarou. Rin. Rin. Rintarou. So good.

“Louder,” his word snaps you out of your daze. It’s when you realize that you’re now moaning his name out loud. Ironically, you feel flustered and look away from him.

His hand starts roaming around your body and settles on your left breast before he pinches on the nipple. “Look at me, I want to see you come.”

He guides your face towards him and you two meet eye-to-eye. The room feels too hot but you ignore it, trapped in your bubble of intimacy with your husband. You’re stuck with letting out little whimpers and small exclaims of “ah, ah, ah”s as Rintarou continues to move inside you.

Unlike his earlier kisses, he plants a sweet peck on the side of your lips before pulling back. “Do you feel good? Are you okay?” His voice is now soft, a stark contrast to his rough thrusts.

You can only nod before a gasp of pleasure leaves you again.

He chuckles against your lips before aiming a single hard thrust, forcing a louder moan out of you. “Am I making you feel good, Y/N?”

You nod repeatedly, hands gripping him harder. The dig of your fingers on his skin makes him groan sexily. “Fuck, answer me. Do I feel good inside you, wife?” Another well-aimed thrust.

“Y-yes, yes!” you finally let out. A sniffle. “It’s so good. More please, Rin. I need more.”

Rintarou doesn’t deny you and quickens his pace, giving you what you want.

And everything feels right. This is what things should have been. The both of you giving and taking. The both of you feeling good and taken care of. You and Rintarou. Rintarou and you. Under a happy spell.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

The last time you were at a party setting with Hajime, things didn’t end well. However, you feel like today is a good one. For starters, you don’t have the underlying pressure of making sure everything goes smoothly. And to make things better, your husband has not left your side ever since your family arrived at the venue.

Risa and Ryuu are happily playing with all the other kids while you’re at the parents’ table, making small talk with the other guests. An older couple - Hajime’s relatives, you think - comments on how you and Rin look good together.

You thank them, turning to your husband’s shoulder to hide your blush. Instead, you see him smirk teasingly, an arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

The party goes well. Food, games, gift-giving…

Hajime finally sits next to you with a small sigh, the two of you barely exchanging more than a few words within the past hour. “This is tiring but very rewarding.” He’s staring at the direction of his son. “All for Kenta’s happiness.”

As if feeling his father’s eyes on him, the boy turns to your direction and waves, a toothy grin on his face.

“You know, in his earlier years, I only felt resentment towards his mother.” Hajime’s voice is tender. He rarely talks about the mother of his son, her being a touchy subject. “But now, all I feel is gratefulness and pity. I’m thankful because without her, I wouldn’t have Kenta. I pity her, because she’s missing out so much on how wonderful and amazing my son is.”

You can’t say you truly understand what he’s feeling. Still, you acknowledge to yourself that your children do seem to be merrier ever since Rintarou joined the three of you, bonding all the time. “Did she ever try to reach out?”

Hajime shakes his head. “No. And my attempts to talk to her were all futile.” The sad look on his face passes quickly. “You know, Y/N, I never considered dating again. Not until Kenta’s much older. But I’m glad I took the leap recently. She already adores Kenta and he likes her a lot, too.”

You perk up at the mention of his new lover. “I’m glad to hear that. Speaking of, I thought she was coming today?”

“She said she’ll catch up because something came up with the project she’s working on.” Just then, a notification pings on Hajime’s phone. “And now we’ve summoned her. I’ll go meet her at the door.”

You watch as your friend eagerly makes his way through the crowd. It’s then that you decide to go on a powder room break to freshen up. On the way, you bump into your husband who’s returning from the restroom. He tucks a hair behind your ear. “You good?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Yes.” It’s crazy, really, how a simple gesture from Rintarou makes your heart flood with happiness.

He mirrors your smile, a bit of mischief laced in it. Rin leans closer to you and asks, “You’re not too sore anymore?”

Blood rushes to your face and you swat at him. “Please, don’t.”

Through his arms around your side, you feel his body shake in laughter. “Okay, okay. Don’t be a blushing mess. We’re in public, Y/N.” He pulls you closer to him and plants a quick kiss on your temple. “Let’s behave from now on.”

You murmur chastising words as events from last night come back to you.

Suna had just forced you to finish drinking a glass of water, mumbling something about you needing to re-hydrate. You’re already washed up, dressed in a pair of fluffy cotton pajamas.

“Good girl,” he murmured before placing the empty glass on the bedside table. He then propped himself up against the headboard, making sure the blankets are covering you.

The praise made you smile like a shy young girl and Rin opened his arm. You didn’t allow yourself a moment of hesitation, immediately going towards his warmth. He squeezed the side of your waist as you snuggled against him.

The post-sex bliss was still surrounding you both. “What are you thinking?”

The sound of his heartbeat was calming, and you didn’t realize it had been slowly lulling you to sleep until Rin repeated his question. It’s been happening a lot lately - him initiating conversation, wanting the two of you to build good communication.

Maybe it’s the domesticity of snuggling in bed with your husband, or the way his hand had traveled upwards to where it’s rubbing softly against your back. You weren’t exactly sure what spurred you to answer candidly. “I’m thinking that I really like you, Rin. A lot. But I guess you already knew that.”

He hummed in confirmation. You weren’t expecting anything back, you knew it’s only been a few months. But much like he’s been doing, Rintarou surprises you. “I’m thinking I’m starting to care about you. A lot. Though it may take me a lot more moments of introspection for me to truly know what I feel. But, really, Y/N, I care about you and I want you to know it, in case I haven’t been clear.”

The hesitation in his voice almost made you melt. He didn’t need to say it, to be honest. You’ve noticed it in all the ways he had been changing in the past several weeks. Trying to quit smoking, spending more time with you and your kids. Opening more communication between you two.

Still, the verbal affirmation is welcomed.

“Thank you, Rin,” you murmured sleepily against him. “For all your efforts.”

You vaguely heard him whisper the words back to you before you drifted off to sleep.

You pull back from hiding your face against your husband’s body and crane your head back. He inspects your face briefly before saying, “All good, you no longer look like a ripe tomato.”

You fake glare at him and remember where you two are. You look around and see Hajime introducing someone to his guests. Beside you, Rintarou pulls out his phone after it pings. He begins typing his reply with one hand, the other reaching for yours.

One of the things you have learned about your husband in the past months is that he can be clingy. You grasp his hand and intertwine your fingers together.

As Hajime approaches you with his new guest, your eyes widen. “Serin?”

Two distinct sounds reach your ear.

Serin’s gasp.

And the sound of a phone crashing on the floor.

Rintarou lets go of your hand as he bends down to pick his phone up.

“Y/N? What a lovely surprise. You’re friends with Hajime?” Serin is quick to give you a hug. “Such a small world!”

You smile at her and then your at friend. “This is… wow.” You turn to Rintarou who’s now back on his feet. You reach for his hand back but he puts both his hands inside his pockets.

The look on his face tells you that his phone must have experienced serious damage.

“Serin, this is my husband, Rintarou. Rin, I met Serin at work yesterday, I didn’t know she’s the girlfriend that Hajime has been talking about. This is a nice coincidence! Don’t you think so?”

The woman blinks slowly before she smiles slightly at your husband. “Nice to meet you.”

To your surprise, Rintarou ignores her extended hand. Instead, he gives her a curt nod before promptly excusing himself outside.

You mask your concern and turn apologetically to Serin and Hajime. “Um, I’m sorry about that. Maybe he’s upset about his phone.”

Serin purses her lips in a small pout. “No worries, Y/N. Let’s talk again later, I want to go to the birthday boy now.” She shoots you a dazzling smile before dragging Hajime by the hand towards Kenta’s direction.

You sigh. As much as you’re delighted that Hajime’s girlfriend is the same nice woman you met yesterday, you can’t help but worry about Rintarou.

After a quick glance at your kids who are engrossed playing with their friends, you follow your husband outside.

Rintarou is restlessly pacing back and forth and though you’re not that physically close, you can see his brows knotted in worry.

“Rin?” He pauses at your voice and looks at you with slightly wide eyes. He doesn’t offer any words.

“Are you okay?”

He blinks a few times. “Yeah.” And then, “Just needed space to breathe.”

There’s a moment of hesitation - as if he wants to say more but decides against it. He resumes his pacing and you quietly slip back inside.

The rest of the party goes relatively well and you’re glad that you’re able to spend time and converse with the other parents from the playground. Moreover, the happy giggles and wide smiles of your children filled your heart with love.

Soon enough, Rin’s earlier actions get pushed to the back of your mind.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

It wasn’t particularly a long day but as soon as you got Risa and Ryuu to fall asleep, your body starts demanding you to rest.

You barely make it through showering. Once you’re done for the night, you move to settle on your shared bed with Rintarou to see him all quiet. He’s sitting on the bed, leg impatiently tapping on the floor.

“Rin, what’s the matter?”

He looks up, your eyes meeting briefly before he turns away. “Nothing.”

In the past, you would have let it go, afraid that you’d push the wrong buttons to set him off against you. But now, given how things have changed between the two of you, you want to talk.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since we left Kenta’s party. Is something bothering you?”

It takes Rintarou a very long time to respond. When he does, it makes you think you may have misheard him.

“Sorry? What did you say?” You ask, your voice gentle despite the tremors and dread building inside you.

His response comes again, louder and clearer this time. “You.”

“Rin?”

He looks you in the eye this time as he stands up. It’s only then that you noticed he hasn’t changed out of his clothes yet. “You. The one that’s bothering me.”

You shake your head as you begin to step closer to him. “I don’t understand.”

Rintarou scoffs. “Of course you don’t.” He swats away the hand that tries to touch him and it leaves you freeze in surprise.

He then makes his way towards the balcony. And you’re still standing there, left alone in the room, dumbfounded and confused.

Oddly enough, this feels like a deja vu.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

At the beginning of your forced marriage to Suna, you knew there was a slim chance that you two would get along. He hated you, and deep down, though you never voiced it out loud, you also resented him for taking advantage of you and getting you pregnant.

But now, looking back at the past few months, you think that your relationship might actually work. He’s no longer treating you horribly. In fact, he’d been extremely nice, getting involved in preparing for your kids’ arrival, being supportive and caring, and overall acting friendly.

For this night, you decided to cook him a simple dinner. He had texted you earlier in the day that he’d drop by Osamu’s newly-opened restaurant to give his congratulations. You had told him it’s okay if he wanted to celebrate with his friends but Rintarou insisted that he’d much rather spend the evening with you.

You knew not to get your hopes up, that he’s just being a responsible father and husband. Still, your traitorous heart beat wildly at his last message, looking forward to seeing him come home.

Four hours later, however, the dinner you prepared is cold and you’re seated alone at the living room couch. Waiting for Rintarou who never came home at the time he promised.

Your eyes were drooping, drowsiness almost winning the long battle you’ve been having against it. Finally, the door opened and Rintarou came in.

He looked utterly wasted.

You stood up in the fastest way possible for a heavily-pregnant person. “Rin, what happened? You weren’t answering my texts and calls. I was so worried.”

He looked up from tossing his shoes to the side. His hair was disheveled and his face was flushed, probably from drinking. “Fuck off.”

The words surprised you, the venom in them strong enough to make you take a step back. You were able to regain your stance nonetheless and moved closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Huh? Are you okay, Rin?”

“Don’t call me that.” He glared at you before swatting your hand away. “You ruined everything. Everything.”

Tears welled up in your eyes. “What? Rin, I’m confused. What happened?”

He didn’t answer you and instead began walking towards the stairs. You were hurt and confused but you didn’t want the night to end with him ignoring you.

Being pregnant, it took you longer to arrive at your now shared room. When you opened the door, you saw that it was already a mess. Broken things everywhere, confirming your suspicions from the sounds you heard on the way to the room.

“Rintarou, stop!” You tried to tell him but he whipped so fast to face you that your feet froze on the spot. “Leave me the fuck alone! You ruined my life, my everything!”

You remained unmoving, fists clenched at the sides. “I don’t understand. Can you calm down, please?”

He grabbed an ornamental vase that you had placed on the dresser and threw it on the floor.

You stared at the flowers from your garden. Lying, broken, and mangled. “Rin, I’m getting scared. Please, let’s talk about what’s wrong?”

“You,” he finally responded. “You’re the most wrong thing in my life.”

His words felt like dagger to your heart. You couldn’t understand what was happening. Things have been going well…

“I hate your existence in my life. I hate this. I hate that I had to marry you. I hate that you’re pregnant. I hate-”

“Please don’t say that,” you begged, tears flowing down your face. “Don’t.”

Rintarou laughed emptily. It pained you to see how angry and sad he looked like. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To talk about what’s wrong? It’s you. So here’s what’s going to happen: since you’re adamant about keeping the babies, then fine, go ahead.

“But I want you to know that this marriage will only be words on a paper. Do not expect anything from me. I will never be your husband. I will never be your friend. You will never mean anything to me. I will never love you. Understood?”

You could barely see him through the stream of your tears. You wished this was just a bad dream and that you’d wake up soon.

“Answer me!” Rintarou yelled. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes.”

He kicked at the broken vase by his foot. “Now leave me the fuck alone.”

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

The memory claws at your heart and you clutch at your chest. It seems like everything from the past is repeating but this time, the pain is multiplied ten-fold.

You can’t help but ask yourself as you stare at the fox plushie on your hands.

What really happened?

Can you really not be happy with Rintarou?

You lift a hand to wipe at your eyes. The other loses its grip on the toy and it drops onto the floor. You wipe your tears one more time before leaning over the bed to reach for it. It bounces against your strained grip, going further out of your reach.

It seems like the fox plush is mocking you.

You tiredly go down the bed to pick it up. However, once it’s back in your hands, you decide to just lean your back against the bed’s side instead of climbing back onto the bed.

You haven’t felt this tired in a long time. Not even during your recent fight with Rintarou months ago.

You close your eyes to fight off the tears that have resurfaced, tears that never really stopped forming in your eyes. To your dismay, you’re unable to ward them off, so you’re left crying, tears escaping your closed eyes.

And as you succumb to the darkness brought by your closed lids, you wish for the pain to be gone the moment you open your eyes.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

Outside, Suna shuts the balcony door behind him before he leans against the railing. He can hear the faint sounds of your crying but wills himself to ignore them.

Instead, he stares ahead at nothing, hoping something can drown out your sounds of sorrow. He curses under his breath until he reaches into his pocket, hand clenching tightly on the item.

Not long after, with the backdrop of the dark sky devoid of moon and any stars, the tip of a lit cigarette burns bright like a blaze.

to be continued.

˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚ ˚₊⁎⁎⁺˳༚

I hope you liked this update hehehe. Question! Do we resolve things quickly or go down the hard path (and curse Suna along the way?) LET ME KNOW!

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added or if you changed your user): @warrior-of-justice @alisa--things @wolffmaiden @kurookinnie @simp-nerd-16  @alex-is-100 @k4g3hika @harukaaaaa172993 @themoonreflectsthesun  @lvjycrow @cantbedenied @sweetlikerockcandy @sirimiripetrichor @yamiakari-chi  @noideawhothatis @nervouscoffeetaco @lovemyfamily4ever-blog nervouscoffeetaco  kamukayakmonyet  yuqixidle ieathairs  cantbedenied  gariben  beomeomgyu  esmeisdrunk-blog  123j456l  iluv-ace  semitje @justablogforreblogs @alienvarmint @itohsi @tamimemo @mshope16 @jeonsfizz @syndyj @susuarin @ssc7514 @tkooooop @lialoveskaisersomuch @dilucsleftshoelace @bakingcuriosity @appepel @arusio

[soloroomies]

lifemate (Chapter 12/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: the aftermath of your argument with him word count. 3.4k cw. marriage pact au, smut, fluff a/n. hi guys! it's finally the end of the story! thank u for everyone who's been waiting and enjoying this first fic of mine bc I really enjoy writing this, too!<3 see u on my other fics! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

Masterlist

As you slowly regain consciousness, the first sensation that hits you is the dull throbbing in your head. The room is dimly lit, and you squint against the soft light seeping through the curtains. Your mouth is dry, and there’s a sour taste lingering from too much alcohol. Your body feels heavy and sluggish, weighed down by the remnants of the night before. You blink a few times, trying to orient yourself. Fragments of last night’s events start to trickle back. Right. This is Tami’s hotel room.

You hear a sound from the bathroom, then Tami steps out. “Hey, you’re awake! Wait,” she says, grabbing a water bottle from the desk and fetching something from her bag. She hands you the water. “Here, drink this.”

She orders room service for breakfast, then sits next to you and places an ibuprofen on the desk beside you. “After you eat, if your head still hurts, you can take this, okay?” You nod while drinking from the water bottle she gave you. Your head is still throbbing. “Do you have a makeup remover?” you ask. The makeup on your face feels uncomfortable and greasy, and you can sense a breakout looming. Can’t wait to clean this all up.

“Yes. It’s all in the bathroom. There are also some toiletries from the hotel. You can use those,” Tami replies.

“Thank you.” You quickly get up from the bed and head to the bathroom. Removing your makeup, washing your face, and brushing your teeth, you feel a relief within you. Taking a shower would be refreshing, but you remember you didn’t bring any clothes and you don’t want to wear the same dress after showering. So, you decide against it.

When you step out of the bathroom, breakfast has arrived. You and Tami start to eat together. Thank goodness the throbbing in your head begins to subside. You sip on the coffee while zoning out, lost in thought. There’s too much to think about, and your mind feels cluttered with last night’s events and the lingering emotions.

Tami clears her throat and looks at you.

“You,” she begins. 

“What?” you stare at her dumbfounded.

“Do you want to tell me something?” she asks, her eyes searching your face for answers.

You press your lips together, considering whether to tell her or not. Well, she noticed that something’s wrong anyway. 

"I’m sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to be irresponsible like that,” you say, sighing and covering your face. “We were supposed to just have fun.”

Tami looks at you, concern written on her face. “Look. You can tell me anything. I’d be happy to help…” She holds your hand. “Kiyoomi contacted me last night. He’s worried about you.”

Shit. Kiyoomi. Taking a deep breath, you decide to tell her everything. Starting from the moment you got closer to him as a friend, to when you began sleeping together, meeting his family, your encounter with his past hook-up, and the arguments that followed.

Tami listens attentively, commenting occasionally, raging when she hears about what that woman said to you, and frowning when you confess your guilt about ‘potentially’ having romantic feelings towards him.

“Girl,” she sighs, “Don’t say ‘potentially’. You do have feelings for him.”

You groan. “That makes me feel worse, honestly.”

“And why do you have to feel worse?” she asks, confused.

“I just… That complicates everything. How am I supposed to be okay with him being with another girl?” Frustration oozes out of you. “I guess I was okay before with our rules. But now…” You rumple your hair with your hand.

Tami squeezes your shoulder. “Hey… He might return your feelings, y’know?”

“Tam. It’s just… I’ve never seen him like... have 'feelings' with anyone before. I don’t know what’s in me that might change his way.” Tears start to well up in your eyes.

“Don’t say that!” Tami hugs you. “There are tons of reasons,” she mumbles against you. 

Stepping back, she observes your face. “I’ll tell you this honestly. With everything you’ve done, he really might return your feelings.”

“I don’t know, Tam. I feel bad. I– I should’ve controlled my feelings better,” you say, looking away from her.

“No, really. Listen to me.” She looks you dead in the eye. “You can’t avoid him forever, right?”

You shook your head.

"It won't be easier too if you choose to completely let go of your feelings for him. So…" Tami continues. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever Tami is about to say. “Before you decide anything further like divorcing him,” you widen your eyes at that. That actually is an option. But, for whatever reason that just feels so wrong. “Just tell him how you feel.”

Instantly, you close your eyes and huff. 

“Hey! He knows that you feel weird about something. Maybe he has his own assumptions, too. If you tell him, there’s one possible outcome that you might like.”

“Yeah, but there are other outcomes too,” you counter.

“Even if he doesn’t return your feelings, what’s the worst that might happen? You really think he could be that mean to you?”

At that, you can’t say anything. She’s right.

“This is Kiyoomi you’ve known since high school,” she reminds you.

You remain silent, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. This is Sakusa Kiyoomi—someone many label as blunt and insensitive. But you know him better than that. He has never harbored ill intentions. If anything, the last six months of your marriage have further shown you just how understanding he is, how you can rely on him for so much. Every quiet gesture and every quiet word of reassurance.

“I’m not trying to force you or anything. Just… think about it.”

“No… you’re actually right, Tam,” you say. 

“Wait,” you froze as you remembered something. Something important. Suddenly, you’re on your feet.

“What?!” Tumi hurriedly followed you to get up.

“What time is it?” Urgently, you look for your phone, and find it on the desk beside the bed. It’s fucking dead. You pull your charger from your bag and charge it quickly.

Tami takes her phone, “It’s almost 1.”

“Fuck. His match.” You grab at your hair in frustration.

“Wait, I fucking forgot too! When is it?!”

“It’s at 1pm,” you say with resignation.

“We can still go there! Let’s–”

“Shit! I forgot.”

"What again?!" she looks at you incredulously.

“I’m fucking stupid. His match is at 11am today.” You unlock your phone, seeing his missed calls and texts, and drop to your feet. How in the hell could you forget this? For whatever reason everything seems to be getting worse. 

Tami crouches down beside you and puts her hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I'll take you home. At least you'll be there when he comes back,” she says, helping you up. Then, Tami starts to quickly pack up her things, checking out from the hotel, and you both get in her car.

On the way home, the weight of missing his match settles heavily on your chest. It just further validates that something is wrong. Doubt gnaws at your thoughts, whispering that perhaps you are blowing things out of proportion. 

When you finally reach home, you embrace Tami in a hug. She will return to her town as soon as she drops you.

“Thank you so much, Tam,” you say.

She nods and hugs you back. “I just hope everything turns out fine for you.”

You smile at her. “I’ll definitely keep you updated.”

As soon as you enter the apartment, you realize that Kiyoomi isn’t home yet. Quickly, you get in the shower, washing everything from the night before, trying to calm your mind. Afterward, you head to your room, put on some clothes, and start drying your hair with a towel while checking the news about the match on your phone.

It turns out that MSBY lost. 

However, the good thing about this V. League Division 1 match is that the team who lost will not be eliminated immediately. Every team will have the chance to compete with each other. The standings are ranked by total points, and so far, MSBY is expected to qualify for the playoffs. Their score is quite superior. But, you understand that a loss is a loss and Kiyoomi is very ambitious about this. You’ve even seen how he reacted the last time they lost. Coupled with the little quarrel between you both that you’ve caused, you really feel bad for him. You had decided to confess to him, but seeing the situation now… postponing it seems like a better choice.

You walk out of your room, intending on snacking from the fridge when you notice Kiyoomi’s gym bag in the living room. Shit. It wasn't there earlier. You look closer to confirm it. Why didn’t you hear anything? A sudden panic washes over you as you quickly turn to head back to your room, only to find Kiyoomi standing before you, his expression inscrutable. Is he angry? You wrestle with the dilemma of explaining your absence or consoling him about his match. Frozen in the moment, mouth slightly agape, you struggle to find anything to say to break the silence. Anything.

Suddenly, Kiyoomi runs to you and hugs you tight. Your eyes widen. Out of all the reactions you predicted from him, this is not one of them. Your hands are still in the air, frozen, trying to process his action. He steps back and looks at you in the eye, his hand caressing the side of your hair, eyes exuding warmth and concern. He grabs both of your hands and kisses them. “Please,” you hear him mumble between the skin of your hands. You’re about to ask what he means when he continues, “Please don’t leave me like that.”

You stare at him, feeling guilty about sneaking out and not coming home last night. “I…” you try to explain yourself, but still can’t find your words. He holds your face gently.

“I’m sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean to say anything to hurt you,” Kiyoomi says, gazing intently at you, eyes glistening.

The truth is, Kiyoomi can't seem to think straight about anything other than you. Despite just losing an important match, it feels like a mere afterthought in his mind. He wants to berate himself for his lack of focus during the game, but how can he when your absence is what truly feels like a glaring mistake? This one match may be important, but his urgency lies in returning home to see you. He aches to beg for your forgiveness and release the pent-up feelings he's kept hidden. And now, you're here. In your shared home, the place that used to be his sanctuary, now feels incomplete without you. It's not just a living space—it's a home because you're in it.

You bite your lip, the emotions you’ve been trying so hard to conceal start to spill. “No, Omi. I’m just…” you begin, breaking into tears.

Kiyoomi guides you to the couch, where you both sit face to face. Considering all your options, you decide to confess. Right. Now.

“I want to be honest with you,” you finally muster up the courage to confess, your voice trembling with emotion. “I was jealous. I was jealous of that woman the other night. And I’m sorry if I’m jealous when I’m supposed to allow you to be with anyone you want but…” Tears start to well up in your eyes, the weight of your emotions becoming too much to bear.

Before you can finish your sentence, Kiyoomi silences you with a tender kiss, leaving you bewildered.

"I don't want anyone else but you," he interrupts, his eyes filled with sincerity. He takes your hand, placing it gently against his cheek as he continues, "There's nothing between me and her. It's always been you that I want. Just you."

As his words sink in, you're left speechless, your mind reeling with disbelief.

"I thought I wasn't enough for you. That’s why I initiated the rules," Kiyoomi admits, his vulnerability breaking down the walls between you. You’ve never heard him like this before—he always seemed so sure of himself in everything. “You kept trying to date other people not too long before New Year,” he continues, pain evident in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to feel trapped with me.”

The realization hits you like a ton of bricks. You both had been struggling with the same insecurities, trapped in a web of misunderstandings and doubts. Tears fall from your eyes as you wipe them away. 

"Omi, that's how I feel about you," you finally admit, voicing the unspoken thoughts that have plagued your mind. “I just don’t want to burden you with me as your option.”

“What?” he mumbles in disbelief.

You nod, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you lean in to kiss him.

As you both kiss, what started as a slow, tender embrace gradually intensifies into a passionate exchange. His lips move from yours to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. Gasping for breath, you grip his side, silently communicating your desire. Catching the unspoken message in your eyes, he lifts you effortlessly into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room.

You both continue to kiss with you sitting on his lap, your hands trembling slightly as you undress him. He reciprocates, removing your clothes with a fervor that sends shivers down your spine. His hands find your breasts, kneading them hungrily before his mouth latches onto your sensitive skin. You whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Omi..."

He hums in response, his voice a low, comforting vibration against you. He gently lays you on your back, eyes never leaving yours as he slides your pants and panties down. His fingers slip inside you, each movement deliberate and electrifying. He peppers kisses along your neck. “How do I deserve you?” he mumbles as he earns another moan from you, your back arching off the bed.

“Omi. I want you. Please. Now.”

His gaze is intense as he replies, "Anything you want," before kissing you deeply, his hands swiftly removing his own pants. Kiyoomi is about to grab a condom from his drawer when you stop him.

“No condom,” you whisper, smiling softly at him, not knowing the effect you have on him.

Ensuring you're ready, he slides his fingers into you again, making you gasp. He then begins to stroke himself, positioning at your entrance. "Please, Omi," you babble, barely coherent. As he finally enters you, a harmonious moan escapes both your lips. It always feels so good—you're no stranger to it. His stamina, coupled with his blessed size… he can always make you feel heavenly. But there's something about feeling him with nothing between you, being able to feel him fully, that sends waves of raw emotion crashing over you. You grab his face, pulling him closer until your noses touch.

“Omi, you feel so good.”

“You too, baby. Always so tight and warm,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. His eyes lock onto yours, as he increases his rhythm. Each thrust pushes you closer to the edge.

"I'm close, Omi," you say, breathless, your body trembling beneath him.

He sucks his thumb briefly before rubbing your clit with it, your moans escalating. "Ah! Omi!"

"Good, baby," he mumbles, his words punctuated by tender kisses. Your body tightens, and with a final cry, you come hard around him. 

You hold his face while he continues to thrust. This is the first time he feels you raw, and the moment he enters you, he’s afraid he’ll combust right away. Thankfully, he doesn’t. But you just feel so good and look so beautiful beneath him. He can’t believe his luck at being able to love you this way. Love. He feels it prickling on his skin. He’s never been one to cry during sex, but he feels like crying now. 

You caress his hair, your lips finding his neck, and it’s enough to send him over the edge. He pulls out just in time, his release spilling onto your stomach. The two of you lay there, panting and spent, the room filled with the quiet aftermath of your shared intensity.

Kiyoomi lifts you gently, carrying you to the bathroom with him. He cleans your body thoroughly, keeping his touches innocent while kissing you occasionally. You’re still drying your body with a towel as he steps out of the bathroom. 

When you return to his room, you notice he’s changing the bed sheets. He pulls you back onto his bed as he finishes, keeping your body flush against his. It’s funny how he used to maintain such a distance, but now, he can’t keep his hand off of you. 

Kiyoomi looks at you adoringly. “Hey.” His voice is soft, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Hey." You shift your whole body to face him, tangling your legs with his.

He looks at you with a mix of adoration and regret. "I’m sorry for not being clear with my feelings all this time."

“Me too," you admit, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

"I guess sometimes I do feel afraid at how fast my feelings escalate with you," he confesses, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I… I think I love you, ___."

Your eyes widen, the unexpected declaration taking your breath away. He quickly adds, "You don’t have to say it back. I just want to put that out there." He caresses your hair as he gazes at you like you hold the moon.

A tender smile spreads across your face. "I think I love you too, Omi." Realizing how new this is for both of you. He has never felt anything remotely close to this, and neither have you. 

The joy in his eyes are unmistakable. Kiyoomi pulls you closer by the waist and kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry too for making you upset with what I did with Hiyori,” he mumbles against your skin.

You sigh, the memory doesn’t sting as much now. "I guess it’s alright. I didn’t know better either, choosing to avoid you when I should’ve been honest."

“Are you jealous of the fact that she used to be with me?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Um. Not exactly. I mean, everyone has their past, right? It’s more about the way she leaned close to you and touched you? It’s just… I know for a fact that you’re really particular about your personal space except with those you’re very close with.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” he says, frowning in disappointment with himself.

"It’s okay, Omi. You used to be close with her before, so you might not have noticed. I was just insecure because I didn’t know how you felt about me." You look away, feeling embarrassed.

He gently holds your chin, turns your face back to his, and kisses you tenderly. "I’m sorry. I’ll be better," he promises, wrapping you in his arms.

Then, out of nowhere, he says, "We should have a honeymoon."

Surprised, you giggle. “Really?”

He hums in agreement. “And restart our wedding night too.”

You look at him incredulously. “How?”

"Maybe you can try on that white lingerie gift first," he suggests, his eyes twinkling.

You gape at him and swat his arm playfully. “What the hell?! You remember that?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek. “Matter of fact, I really want to see you in it.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, baby. Tonight,” you agree, kissing his lips.

The next morning, you receive texts from Tami.

Tami: hey   Tami: are u feeling better??   Tami: is everything good?

As you read the messages, Kiyoomi pulls you close, kissing your shoulder from behind.

You: so much better   You: everything’s good   You: thank u sm, Tam. I owe you tons   You: also   You: it’s late but   You: thank u for the wedding gift. he loves it.

Not even a minute later, you receive her replies.

Tami: OMGGGG   Tami: TOLD U!

You giggle at her response. Kiyoomi peeks over your shoulder, smiling at the texts. You put your phone down and turn to him, marveling at how right everything feels. Seeing him in the morning like this is something you’ll never get used to. If you told your high school self about today, she would laugh. There’s no way you could have predicted this outcome. Making a marriage pact with your high school friend and actually doing it, only to find a love you thought you’d never experience. It’s one of the best decisions of your life, no matter how crazy it sounds.

Kiyoomi kisses your neck and looks you in the eye. “So?”

"Hm?" you murmur, still lost in your thoughts.

“Does Maldives sound good for our honeymoon?” he asks.

You lean in, kissing him softly on the lips. "It’s perfect, Omi."

Taglist: @wolffmaiden , @fiannee , @nightlydream , @choizzn , @peachyaeger @crxm-dollx , @marisabel14 , @yunskook, @reimiiko, @megumuro

[missmonsters2]

—Lips Over Your Nightmares

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.

Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.

Count: 2.6k

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Nighttime could be hellish.

It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much. 

You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be. 

But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.

It was a blessing and a curse. 

To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for. 

But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto. 

Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.

But Wednesday Addams saw you. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.

"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."

"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."

Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."

"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied. 

"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.

Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"

Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."

"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."

There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems. 

But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing. 

Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.

"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!" 

"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.

Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.

"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."

"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.

"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.

"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."

"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.

Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."

Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.

Wednesday knocked in three successions. 

There was no answer. 

If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.

No, she knew you far too well. 

This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.

Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door. 

The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more. 

There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly. 

"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"

"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly. 

It was new.

You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm. 

"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."

"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.

"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face. 

Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes. 

Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you. 

It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.

"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were. 

And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time. 

You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling. 

Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.

You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want. 

"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily. 

Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would. 

Just as you were her exception, she was yours. 

You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.

"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.

She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.

The resounding click of it made you swallow.

"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.

"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."

Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."

"How did you know—"

"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.

"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything—"

Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."

Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more. 

Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest. 

The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.

"I'm having nightmares about you."

The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic. 

But you were not her. 

Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.

"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."

Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on. 

"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."

"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."

Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought. 

But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come. 

Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path. 

"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions. 

"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.

Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort. 

You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.

Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross. 

Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece. 

Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck. 

Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.

It was deliriously pleasant.

"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.

It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity. 

Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.

Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft. 

Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours. 

How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?

Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."

You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.

Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream? 

Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers. 

It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too. 

"Your nightmares are inane."

You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip. 

"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips. 

"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."

The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.

"But—"

"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."

But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat. 

Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.

Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.

[engie-ivy]

(Fic I didn't know I wanted to write! So thank you for the inspiration, @wolfstarmicrofic!)

28th: Dogwalker AU

673 words

Some good old mutual pining between a dogwalker and his client!

Date My Hooman?

“Has he been a good boy?” Sirius is sitting on his knees, scratching Padfoot’s ears (and making quite the sight while doing so).

Remus crosses his arms over his chest. “Now you're just fishing for compliments. You know damn well Padfoot’s always a good boy.”

Sirius grins up at him. “Guilty as charged.” He looks back at Padfoot who's thoroughly enjoying his ear scratches. “I know my dog is great, but I love hearing other people tell me that my dog is great also.”

“Right you are,” Remus chuckles. “How was your day at the office?”

“Dreadfully dull,” Sirius replies instantly. “Really, Remus, you made some good career choices that you now get to play with dogs all day.”

“Well, I don't get to live in a house like that.” Remus nods towards Sirius’ three-story mansion with the sprawling garden around it.

Sirius winks at him as he gets up to his feet. “Maybe if you play your cards right.”

Remus can feel his cheeks heating up.

Before, he was just amused by Sirius’ flirtatious banter, and he actually gave it as good as he got. But now, he suddenly feels flustered, at a loss for words, and wholly out of his depth whenever Sirius makes a comment like that.

After long conversations, with Sirius being the last stop on Remus’ afternoon route, and being subjected to Sirius’ sharp mind and disarming sense of humour, things have changed for Remus.

He used to think that the best part of his day would always be seeing the excitement on a dog’s face when he reaches out to unclip their leash to let them run around the park and play with their friends, but now, it's like nothing compares to seeing the excitement on Sirius’ face at the end of the day as he crouches down to greet his beloved dog after long hours the office. Remus’ days have started to revolve around the moments he brings Padfoot home, and it's becoming A Problem.

“And that's not even taking into account cold, rain, new regulations, demanding clients,” Remus continues, as if he didn't hear Sirius’ last comment.

Then Remus’ own dog, Moony, dashes forward and starts licking a tail-wagging Padfoot’s face, like he knows he has to say goodbye to his friend for now, and Remus’ heart just melts. “Oh, who am I kidding? It's bloody amazing.”

When the dogs have said their goodbyes, it's time for their owners to do so as well.

“See you tomorrow?” Sirius asks.

“Of course.”

“Great.” Sirius beams at him. “Looking forward to it.”

Remus’ heart skips a beat at those words. Yes, definitely A Problem.

Sirius has given Remus the key to the annex besides the main house, so he can pick up Padfoot, take him for a long walk, and then, by the time they return, Sirius will be back from the office and usually already waiting on them.

Sirius has actually turned the annex into a space especially for Padfoot, with water and food, several dog beds, toys, and a dog door, so he can go in and out to the yard whenever he wants. Sirius has even hung framed pictures on the walls of him and Padfoot together. A fuzzy feeling spreads across Remus’ chest upon seeing those pictures. A Problem indeed.

Padfoot immediately comes running, happily wagging his tail, brimming with excitement to go on his walk.

“Calm down, Pads,” Remus laughs, as the dog keeps circling his legs and jumping up and down. “Come on, I need to attach your leash, otherwise we can't go. Hey, what you've got there, buddy?” He spots a piece of paper neatly tucked underneath Padfoot’s collar and he plucks it out. As he unfolds it, he realizes it's a note.

And as he reads, a huge smile starts to spread across Remus’ face.

Dear Remus,

You might have noticed that my hooman has quite a crush on you.

Will you please save me from his desperate pining, and let my hooman take you out on a date?

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[yeostars]

I Hate You, I Love You.

-kang yeosang<3

○ pairing- yeosang x reader ○ genre- academic rivals to lovers! early relationship scenario, basically a snippet into the times when two rivals get into a romantic relationship after finally confessing their undying love to eo (ahem, they still hate eo too, though) ○ warnings- none? slight 18+ scenes but they don't actually do IT haha ○ synopsis- sooo this one is the epilogue for my rivals to lovers yeo fic (down bad, but at what cost?) . basically this one is a study session turned into a pillow fight turned into an intense makeout session ;) i've tried my best to write this one even better than the actual long fic so i really hope y'all enjoy reading this. likes, reblogs, comments and follows are always immensely appreciated <3

"Huh, to be honest, your room isn't half bad. Really." You admit, peering at every little thing your eyes land upon, in this giant, spacious room.

"If that was meant to be a compliment, thanks." Yeosang snorted, right behind you, watching you take everything in.

This was your very first time visiting your boyfriend's slash academic rival's room. Infact, it was your first time coming to his house itself. Saying that you were nervous was an understatement, but somehow you seemed to be relaxing in yeosang's presence by now.

The fact that no one except the both of you were present in his house right now, also relaxed you quite a lot. Yeosang's parents had gone shopping and his elder sister was hanging out with her friends. Yeosang, being the smartass he is, grabbed this perfect oppurtunity and ideal day to invite you over, to get your assignments done.

Yeah. to get those damn assignments done. nothing else, probably, right...? although you wished you were lying, as you thought about how amazing it would be, to make out with yeosang on his bed.....

It had been roughly a month since the both of you started dating now, and it seemed like neither of you wanted to rush things. But if either you or yeosang made the first move, the latter would passionately reciprocate it.

"I mean it, your room is much more spacious than i imagined it to be. And also, so clean.... bet it isn't normally this clean." You said, chuckling, as your hand gently patted and felt the soft matress bed sheets.

"Well, not gonna lie, i did clean it up cuz you were gonna come over, You should be grateful." He joked, carefully picking up your bag and placed it on one of the extra chairs around his study table.

"Should i touch your feet or something? Geez, thanks for cleaning your room, i guess." You let out, suddenly stopping in your tracks to stare at the mini posters stuck at the wall.

Yeosang noticed you staring at those posters at the wall and stood right besides you. Good thing it wasn't something embarassing- or else he would've torn all those posters than bear all the teasing from you.

"Seriously, yeo? Math symbols, geometry shapes, equations and formulas..... you know what, i am not even surprised, you math freak." You grinned, turning to look him directly in the eye.

"So what? I am working to be the best mathematician of the next century, Gotta make sure to look like one." He replied, sounding quite proud.

"Might as well wear printed t-shirts with mathematical formulas all over it, My anti-math ass could never. I might throw up if i stare at those posters again." You said, giving those posters one last glance.

"You and your dramatic ass, y/n.....well, take a seat, if you're done exploring, and lets get these assignments done." Yeosang murmured, taking hold of his own bag, as he bought it towards his huge study table.

You sat at the chair farthest to the window, where sunrays seemed to be shining beautifully at the ends of the study table. Yeosang sat right besides you, eliminating the third chair and reduced any distance present between the both of you.

You ignored your heart beating loudly in your chest, quietly placed your books and pens on the table, and peered at yeosang doing the same.

"Well then, lets get started? As we promised each other, you're gonna help me if i have any difficulty in maths and I'm gonna do the same for you in science. Hope that offer still stands." You said, not quite maintaining eye contact with him, choosing to stare at those books in front of you instead.

"Hmm, alright. Lets get this done as quickly as possible." Yeosang said, already getting started with his work.

Around 40 minutes passed, the both of you working in peaceful silence, and even if you asked each other about a certain question or concept, the atmosphere between the both of you was still, peaceful. calm. not chaotic- and that's where is started to feel slightly...wrong? This had to be the longest time you've both spent in each other's presence without teasing the hell out of each other or bickering.

You couldn't help but steal quick glances towards yeosang's direction, admiring his concentrated self, how unbelievably hot he looked even when he was literally just, studying. When he furrowed his eyebrows cuz he probably didn't understand something, or when he mindlessly spun his pen as he read content, you wondered how you even managed to have a boyfriend as attractive as him.

You stretched your arms quickly, leaning back toward the chair, stifling a yawn. You were quite tired now, but you still had one topic left. You glanced at yeosang, and he looked quite tired himself, too.

And besides, things felt too boring, between the both of you, right now. You wanted to spice things up a bit, get him to kiss you or something.... but how?

"I'm taking a quick break." You announced, getting up from your chair, heading towards the giant bed, sitting comfortably at the edge.

Yeosang spun his chair to face you, and just blankly stared at you as you scrolled through something on your phone.

"What, tired already?" He asked, having the audacity to ask you this while looking much more exhausted than you.

"You look like you're about to pass out, right now. Take a break along with me." This wasn't a request, it was an order. You wanted both of you to feel fresh and relaxed before you started working on the final topic to finish your assignments.

Yeosang didn't argue further, simply closed his books and joined you, on his bed. He mirrored your position, sitting quite distant from you, but you could still feel his feet brushing yours..

You sat there, feeling extra comfortable because of the giant, soft pillows behind you. Yeosang suddenly grabbed one of those pillows behind you and you glanced at him, quirking an eyebrow and met his gaze, which looked quite mischievous and playful...typical yeosang.

"Ever been in a pillow fight?" Yeosang asked, pulling the pillow close to his chest.

"Umm....no? I might have once, with Jia, though." You replied, registering the fact that he probably asked you out on a pillow fight. you, his girlfriend, into a pillow fight.

at such moments, you realised how yeosang was truly, yeosang. no one could ever be like him..

"Then accept this challenge. Whoever wins gets their favourite snack as a reward." Yeosang snickered, coming closer to you.

"Oh, ITS ON. Y-" You almost screamed, and you didn't even get to finish your sentence as Yeosang approached you and hit his pillow skillfully at your arm. You groaned, gaining your consciousness quickly and attacked him with another pillow, aimed right at his head.

Here you were, the both of you fighting each other in an impromptu pillow fight, laughing, giggling and screaming like little kids. Just when you thought you couldn't fall deeper for yeosang than you already were, you were proved wrong when you met his soft and playful gaze, him smiling at you, the reason for his laughter being you. You wished this moment could last forever..

Your bodies brushed again each other's quite often, but the both of you tried to ignore that fact, too caught up in adrenaline and playfully fighting each other.

With a well-aimed swing, you managed to knock the pillow out of Yeosang's hands, grinning proudly. "Gotcha!"

Before you even knew it, yeosang lunged forward and tackled you gently onto the bed. You both landed in a heap of tangled limbs and pillows, your breath hitching as you realised that you were pinned beneath him onto the bed...

For a moment, everything stilled. The air, filled with laughter and giggles and screams just a minute ago, was now intense, and all that could be heard was your breaths.

You gazed into each other's eyes, your faces mere inches apart, You could feel yeosang's warm breath forming goosebumps on your skin. Every single cell in your body seemed to be aware of your current position, you could feel yeosang's strong arms wrapped against your sides, as if you had no choice to run away,,,

Yeosang's eyes softened, his playful smirk replaced by something more tender. "Y/N...." He trailed off, not bothering to complete his sentence. Just hearing your name from his lips, him being so damn close to you, you could've sworn your heart was going to beat right out of your chest.

Your hand, which had been gripping a pillow, slowly lifted up to touch his shoulders, to touch those strong biceps... that got you thinking just how buff your boyfriend was.

He leaned down, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you every chance to pull away, his eyes never leaving yours. But of course, you didn't. Why would you? You were waiting since ages for this to happen..

You lifted your head slightly, closing the distance between you. Your lips met in a kiss that was both familiar and electrifying, a perfect blend of softness and urgency.

Until, it was no longer soft, no longer sweet- just mere urgency, passion and roughness arising, as yeosang's palms reached forward to cup your face and your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you.

You pulled apart just for a second, you asking him hurridely if the door was locked (as much as you loved kissing yeosang, you were not prepared for the utter embarrasment if his parents walked in.) and he just hummed in reply, wasting no time and bought your lips to his again.

The makeout session seemed to be unending, and you weren't complaining in he slightest. The next second you broke the kiss to catch some freaking air, you could feel yeosang's gaze strongly fixated on you, and you couldn't quite comprehend what he was feeling.

"God, you're so hot." He said, in such a low voice, you would have almos missed it if you weren't so damn close to him.

"What?" You asked, blushing, although you had clearly heard him. You took in the sight of his cheeks heating up so furiously that your shyness was now replaced with a proud smirk.

"Say it again. I didn't quite hear you." You said, grinning.

"H-hell no. You didn't hear anything." He said, now tearing his gaze off you, just to be met by your smirk yet again as you grabbed his chin softly to make direct eye contact.

"What, THE kang yeosang getting all giddy and shy because of me? Yeo, if you don't say that again, i WILL tease you about it for the rest of your life-"

"I hate you. Y-you're so hot." He said, and before you could say anything, he quickly sealed his lips with yours, once again. You hummed in pleasure as his thumbs lightly massaged your cheeks, and you felt so damn good in this moment, you wouldn't dare to stop.

That was, unless you had to, to catch your breaths once again.

"Have you kissed someone before, um, me?" You asked, looking quite shy now. He blinked, not believing that this was the kind of question you'd ask him in the middle of a makeout session.

"I did. What about you?" He asked, shrugging, his eyes curious for your answer to the same.

Something familiar settled into your stomach. Bitterness. Jealousy. That would explain how yeosang kissed you so damn well. He was experienced, someone had already felt those wicked, soft, irrestible lips before. And of course, they did. Have you looked at the guy? It would be impossible to believe that he hadn't dated before.

"Y/N?" He asked softly, after noticing that you didn't reply quickly.

"Uhh...well, you're my first kiss." You said, not adding anything further. Yeosang seemed way too shocked at that, smirking soon after.

"Are you being serious? You're telling me, your arch nemesis, your rival, the person you quite literally hate, ME, i'm your first kiss? Insane, if you ask m-" He didn't get to complete his sentence this time, as you bought your lips to his, again. and again. and again- until the both of you were completely satisfied- which you weren't, not just yet. You kissed in perfect sync, perfect harmony- you tilting your head slightly to give him more access, your tongues hungrily meeting each others, the unending bites and teasing making you even more desperate for each other.

You opened your eyes to be met with a pleasant, calm, flushed yeosang. His plush lips were now red and glossy and slightly bruised because of you biting them so many times (he did too, so that was only fair) and he just, looked so fucking pretty, so handsome, so ethereal. and you were just so damn lucky.

"You are my first kiss too, by the way." He confessed, now looking quite serious. You nearly choked on air.

"WHAT?? You lied to me before...?" You asked in disbelief.

"Yea, i just wanted to witness you being jealous. You are so cute, the way you were pouting when i said that, i wanted to bite you." He said, caressing your cheek softly.

"Shut up. I hate you." You let out, pouting yet again and yeosang looked at you with such endearment and adoration, one would have never thought that you used to be at each others throats.

"Nah, you love me." He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with yours. You smiled softly.

"That, maybe i do."

[amyispxnk]

My Kind of Woman

Chapter 5: Collide

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - Joel makes up for the time he stood you up.

A/N: just wanted to say a big thank you for the support on this series so far! love u all<3

also im so excited for this chapter because they’re finally starting to (officially) like eachother guysss ahh

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few dirty thoughts (because what is this fic without them), slight language

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Also this chapter has a song..!

The next week, you have another lighter schedule - two patrols and three nights at the Tipsy Bison. Unfortunately though, your first patrol is on Monday morning at the ass-crack of dawn, and Joel can definitely tell that you’re not a morning person from it.

“So today we’re heading out to-” he begins, and you cut him off.

“I know, Joel.” You sigh heavily, getting annoyed just from that in your grumpy state. He doesn’t take it personally though, quickly deducing what’s wrong.

“Not a morning person, I take it?” He chuckles, and you just nod, taking another large swig of your coffee before screwing the lid back on and going over to May, your mare, to prep her for the patrol.

He does the same, keeping conversation light and just asking about your supplies and whatnot, still receiving a little attitude from you despite his efforts, before the two of you exit Jackson’s gates once more.

After almost an hour of riding, the sun is close to being fully risen and you find yourself watching it with awe. You never really took the time to watch the sun rise, but it really was beautiful, especially out here with no distractions or pollution to ruin the view of it.

“It’s so pretty.” You find yourself commenting, and Joel looks over at you, seeing the view which you’re talking about.

“I guess. I can think of something prettier, though.” He murmurs, staring directly at you. You turn to face him and realise what he’s done, smiling shyly before averting your gaze once more.

“So, where’s that music store you were talking about last time?” You ask.

“It ain’t this way, so I don’t think we could go today. We could try go on Thursday’s patrol, though. ‘S just a little ways past that town we cleared.” Joel replies, to which you nod.

“Guess we’ll go then.”

That morning’s patrol is fairly quick and quiet, a few straggling runners dotted around the outlook you two end up at, and nothing more.

You get back to Jackson just before lunchtime and return your horses and weapons. You’re tending to May, giving her a treat and combing her mane, when Joel enters the stables.

“Hey.” He says, voice gruff and nervous, almost.

“Hey,” you smile, turning to face him, “what’s up?”

“Nothin’, just.. It’s lunchtime.”

You nod slowly, a little confused. He picks up on this and sighs.

“Wanted to ask if you.. if you wanted to come over for lunch. Ellie’ll be there too… Thought it might be nice.” He mumbles, not able to meet your eye as he braces himself for rejection.

“That sounds great! I’d have to get changed and stuff, so I could be over in maybe.. Half an hour?” You say, smile wider now, and he finally looks back up at you, trying to hide his surprise.

“Yeah- yeah. That sounds good. See you then.” He says, giving you a wry smile before leaving you in the stables, hurrying back home to get everything ready for you. It was a last minute decision, and he was honestly already regretting it, but he just wanted to spend more time with you. Even though the two of you had just spent almost 4 hours together, he needed more.

Ellie’s surprised to see him in such a rush, and to see him in the kitchen actually cooking something for once.

“Dude.. what are you doing?” She laughs as she watches him pull out a pot and almost throw open the fridge door.

“I invited her over for lunch. Dunno what I was thinking.” He grumbles, squeezing his eyes together and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation when Ellie cheers and whoops excessively.

“You finally did it! Oh my god. It only took you 10 years.” She smirks, sitting at the island and watching him grab the most random ingredients, as if they’ll make something good when he puts them together. Her brows furrow before pity floods her system, and she gets up with a deep sigh.

“Okay, what are you actually doing..?” She says, rounding the island and coming to his side.

“I don’t.. I don’t know,” he sighs, “this is gonna be shit.”

“Not if I can help it.” She says, determined to not let this fail. “Just.. gimme 20 minutes and I can make something good.”

“You want any help, or-”

“No! You have to go get ready for your date!” She says abruptly, cutting him off and grinning slyly when he starts going red at her words.

“It’s not a date.. She’s just coming over for lunch. You’re gonna be here anyway…” He mutters, turning and going upstairs to get ready nonetheless.

“You keep telling yourself that, old man.” She smirks, getting herself busy with the cooking.

20 minutes later, Joel comes downstairs freshly shaved and changed into some better clothes than the ones he wore for patrol.

Ellie lets out a low whistle when she sees him. “Wowwww, you actually look half-decent for once. Well done.” She teases, to which he just rolls his eyes.

“What’d you make? Actually looks half-decent.” He smirks as he comes to see what Ellie’s cooked up.

“I made this spaghetti for us, and it looks more than decent to me, thank you very much.”

–

Just breathe.

You keep repeating that in your mind as you walk down the street to Joel’s home. Overthinking, as always, but trying to quell your thoughts when you reach his front porch and make your way up the steps. You clench your fists, taking a deep breath before raising your hand and knocking on the door. It’s opened surprisingly quickly by a very eager Ellie, ushering you inside and informing you that Joel’s just finishing up in the kitchen. You start up some conversation with Ellie as the two of you sit at the table, waiting for Joel. He approaches with the food and your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

He looks fucking beautiful.

He’s wearing a different shirt, one you’ve never seen him in before. It’s a deep green, with the sleeves rolled up just past his forearms and exposing even more skin which you try your hardest not to salivate over, and it’s tucked into his jeans. The jeans are criminally tight on him and you quickly avert your gaze when you catch yourself almost eyeing his bulge, finally meeting his eyes.

“Joel. Hi.” You breathe, and he gives you an equally flustered greeting.

You had just changed into one of your better sweaters and some jeans. Both of them hugged your body perfectly, showing off your curves. The sweater was off-shoulder so it showed off your collarbones as well.

You guessed the outfit was a good choice when Joel’s brain visibly short-circuits at the sight of you, and he blinks a few times before he even realises you’ve said something to him, greeting you back and setting the food down.

“Ohh, damn it. You know what I just remembered? Dina actually wanted to see me like… now. So I guess I’m gonna have to leave you guys here. So sorry.” Ellie smirks, clearly not guilty in the slightest as she gets up from the table and makes her way to the front door.

“Have a nice lunch, you two.”

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, still standing by the table as Ellie leaves, the door swinging shut and leaving the two of you in silence.

“I’m gonna just.. grab some forks.” He mumbles, and you nod, watching him leave and trying not to focus on how good his ass looks in those jeans.

After giving himself a silent pep talk in the kitchen, he returns with the forks and sits across from you at the table.

At first, the conversation is a little slow. Mundane topics like what else have you been up to and the weather’s been looking good recently but eventually, you get into a flow, moving from topic to topic, laughing together and having a really good time.

“This has been great, Joel. Thank you.” You say after helping him clean everything up, much to his protest - ‘you’re my guest, shouldn’t be cleanin’ up’ - but you insisted.

“Pleasure’s mine.” He smiles softly, willing himself to not get lost in your eyes again, averting his gaze quickly.

“Um.. you don’t have to leave just yet.” He starts, and you turn back to face him.

“Got a few guitars upstairs, if you wanted to play… I know we didn’t really get to last time.” He offers shyly, and you can’t hide your grin this time. You’re finally getting to hear Joel play.

“I’d like that.” You say, and he nods, going upstairs to grab them.

He comes back and hands you one, the two of you sitting down in the living room as you strum a little.

“So, what d’you wanna play?” He asks after a minute of letting you get acquainted with the guitar.

“I actually wanted to hear you play first… If that’s okay! It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna-”

“Nah. Figure I owe it to ya.” He says, thinking of a song and taking a deep breath before starting to play. It’s a little bit of a bold choice, but he figures he could play it off if you don’t receive it well.

The dawn is breaking

A light shining through

You’re barely waking

And I’m tangled up in you

You’re stunned into silence as his deep voice cuts through the air, positively transfixed by it and his skilful playing. You’re so entranced that you barely realise the lyrics of the song, but when you do, your eyes go even wider.

But I’m open, you’re closed

Where I follow, you’ll go

I worry I won’t see your face

Light up again

Surely he doesn’t mean it. He just chose a random song. He hasn’t made the same association with it that you have. It’s just a random song.

Even the best fall down sometime

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I somehow find

You and I collide

You listen quietly as he plays all the way til the end of the song, admiring how he plays, as lost in the music as you find yourself becoming.

You finally find

You and I collide

A final strum rings through the air as he looks up at you, meeting your wide eyes with his own, hoping that you understood what he meant from the song.

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re interrupted by the front door swinging open.

The moment is lost, and you blink quickly, standing up as two voices come from the front door.

“Yeah, we can just go to the gara- oh. Hey.” Ellie says bashfully, realising she’s probably just interrupted something.

“We’re just going to my place. Sorry.” She chuckles, walking through the living room with Dina, to whom you offer a small wave. Dina’s a nice girl, you know her from the school.

As the back door closes, you look back at Joel.

“I should probably get going.” You say, offering him a small smile.

He just nods, clearing his throat to fill the silence.

“I knew you’d be good at guitar.” You comment, and he smiles back at you this time.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You want me to walk you home?” He asks as the two of you walk to the front door.

“That’s okay. I’ll see you on Thursday?” You ask as red taints your cheeks once more from that name.

“Yep. See you then.”

“Thank you for this. Bye, Joel.” You say, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, something you’d decided to do before you could think about it too hard, before opening the front door and leaving him once again stunned, frozen in place on the other side.

You exhale shakily, taking a second to calm your nerves before heading back home.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @s0meoone

[fallatyourfeet]

Swanky Suits (Arthur x Female Reader)

One Shot

Credit to Gif creator- sorry I don't know who you are

Summary: Arthur is taken completely by surprise after being sent by Ada to get a new suit

Word count: 1322

Warnings: Awkward adorable Arthur. He gets a bit nervous and anxious.

Author's Note: This was only supposed to be around 500-700 words. Big fail. Also, can't believe I've posted two fics in a week. What the hell is happening to me.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

This place seemed far too swanky for Arthur, he felt completely out of place, but Ada had insisted he come. “Trust me Arthur, they’re the best tailors in London… you won’t be disappointed.” Looking at himself in the mirror out front of the change room, he had to agree. The pants and shirt were the nicest things he had ever worn, and he hadn’t even tried on the jacket yet. But still, no matter how much money he had lining his pockets, this place just felt a little too fancy for a boy from Small Heath. Maybe Tommy could get away with it, but him? Not a chance.

Walking up behind him, jacket in hand, came the attendant who helped him with his fittings last week, his posh London accent and manner doing nothing to ease Arthur’s inner monologue. Walking in a circle around him, he looked him up and down and nodded, quite pleased with himself, “The shirt and pants are a perfect fit, they won’t need any alterations at all.”

Moving behind him, he held open the jacket so Arthur could put his arms in and slipped it up over his shoulders. Then walking back around, he adjusted the lapels and buttoned it up, before stepping back, looking slightly disappointed, “The jacket is going to need some tweaking.” Placing a finger to his chin, the attendant sighed with thought. “It doesn’t need much… I might get our seamstress to have a look, she’s out the back. Otherwise, our tailor’s back tomorrow if you want to wait.” Unsure how to gauge Arthur’s expression, he added, “She’s very good… you won’t be disappointed.”

Arthur sniffed, visibly rolling his eyes as he adjusted the jacket, had this guy been talking to Ada? Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, “Yeah, alright, let her ‘ave a look.”

The attendant disappeared out back, leaving him in front of the mirror, and he couldn’t help but admire the cut and feel of the fabric. Arthur knew he was hardly posh and refined like ninety nine percent of the shops cliental, but he knew a bloody good suit when he saw one. And this was one of the best.

Moving to the edge of the store counter, he was flicking through a collection of swatches, taken completely off guard when to the side of him, someone spoke, “Arthur? ….. Arthur Shelby?”

An oddly familiar voice which Arthur couldn’t quite place, spoke his name. A voice from his childhood, only much more mature than he remembered. The edges to the Birmingham accent were a little softer, the volume somehow fuller, richer. A voice smoother than honey. ‘Hmmm’, he thought quite innocently, ‘a man could get used to a sound like that.’

Turning towards the voice, he almost jumped when he saw you. Dropping the swatches to the ground his cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink, standing straight as an arrow like a naughty child being caught in an act of mischief. He recognised you straight away. Even if he were an eighty-year-old man that hadn’t seen you in sixty years, he’d still know exactly who you were. His childhood crush. The girl who made his heart fly whenever she was near. The girl to which no other could compare. The girl he wanted to grow up and marry… And the girl who up and moved to London with her family when he was barely fifteen. Moved before he even found the courage to ask her out.

Arthur spoke your name, “YN?” It was almost a whisper. ‘Fuckin hell,’ he thought, you were even more beautiful than he remembered.

You smiled in response, and if his cheeks were pink before, they must be bright scarlet by now. Not sure what to do or say, he fumbled over his words, before blurting out, “You… you’re the seamstress?”

Lifting your hands, you laughed a little, waving the measuring tape and pin cushion they held, “I am… and these are the weapons of my trade.” Moving towards him, you placed them down on the counter, taking in every inch of his face, turning his poor scarlet cheeks crimson. “It’s good to see you, Arthur. My goodness, it must be what…? Twenty years?”

You moved even closer. Slipping your hands inside his jacket you went about your work, pinning together the alterations when your hand brushed against his side. It almost made him freeze, and he thanked God that it wasn’t his pants that needed altering, your close proximity making it hard for him to think. But somehow, he managed, “Uh, yeah. It’s been exactly twenty years.”

Looking up at him, you smiled the sweetest smile, your eyes looking strangely humbled that he knew exactly how long it had been since he saw you last. And it did nothing to ease the building flutters in his chest. He was a grown man, and a few minutes in your presence had him acting like an awkward teenager again. Arthur’s thoughts were a mess, scrambling to find something else to say, “So, ah, how long you been workin’ here?”

Biting your lip, you looked at the ring on your finger, before answering, sadness gathering in your eyes and voice, “Since my husband left for France.”

Arthur wanted to kick himself for asking, needing no more explanation to realise your husband did not return. And his heart broke for you. The thought of you hurting, in any shape or form, made him uneasy, made him want to reach out and comfort you. Placing a hand to your arm, he gave it a gentle squeeze. No words needed to be exchanged, you knew what he was trying to say.

With a small nod, you smiled softly, distracting yourself by getting back to the task at hand, making a few quick adjustments with your pins and measuring tape. Seemingly satisfied, you took a step back to make a full inspection, announcing quietly, “That should do it.”

Slipping the jacket from his shoulders, you placed it over your arm before fixing the collar of his shirt, your fingertips creating a trail of goosebumps when they brushed along his neck, and that was when he knew he was in trouble. Just one touch against his bare neck and all those buried teenage feelings came rushing back, hitting him like a tonne of bricks. Never to be suppressed again. And he knew himself well enough to realise that if he didn’t act on those feelings today, he was going to end up with a whole god damned wardrobe full of swanky suits. When what he really wanted was you.

Breaking through his trainwreck of thoughts, you touched his elbow, your eyes searching for something in his, “Arthur, this will only take me ten minutes… will you wait? Or” You paused, your expression changing the slightest bit, “Or did you want to come back tomorrow?”

With a deep breath, Arthur cleared his throat, putting his hands in his pockets to hide the fact they were trembling. “Ah, yeah, I can wait.” Feeling sick to the stomach, he shuffled on his feet, taking his hands out to run them through his hair, before returning them to his pockets, “Um, when do you knock off from here?” Clearing his throat again, Arthur worked hard to keep eye contact, fuck you were the loveliest thing he had ever seen. “I mean, if you want to, we could catch up… I could take you out for dinner or… or somethin.”

You answered with a smile. It was so sweet and warm, and genuine. And he dared to hope that just maybe you weren’t going to turn him down. With his heart beating in his throat, he waited for your reply. It was just a few fleeting moments, a few short moments that felt like an eternity. But your answer came, and he could barely believe his ears. “Yes, Arthur. Thank you. Dinner or somethin’ would be lovely.”

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 2

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 2.8K

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

I had a real rough time figuring out the proper voice for Pedro's dialogue and I hope I did him justice. Either way, the support I received for part 1 is astounding and completely unexpected! Thank you all for reading and let me know what you think :) I plan to continue until the story wraps up, but I don't know how many parts that will be. I hope to post every couple days, but with my work schedule it may be less speedy. Here we go!

You walk in the door, unclipping Skip's leash, slipping off your shoes, and dropping your keys on the countertop before flopping onto the couch and unlocking your phone. No. Fucking. Way. 

Pedro Pascal (pascalispunk) replied to your message. 

You dissected each letter of the username, assuming it couldn't possibly be THE Pedro Pascal… but it was. It really, really was. You clicked the message, holding your breath.

Pedro Pascal replied to you: "Hey, you don't need to thank me. I didn't say anything that wasn't true. That guy was out of line. You deserve happiness and I'm sorry for the harsh words you've been hearing. I appreciate you sharing your vulnerability with the world and hope that you will continue to be your genuine self and ignore the comments trying to make you be someone else. Don't listen to those people."

You stared in disbelief at his words, once again wondering why he would ever be so kind to someone he doesn't even know. Someone so childish and stupid to write a song about a man she doesn't know. I can't imagine he'd think these things if he knew it was about him…

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I'm a big fan of yours and hearing that you're in my corner has me completely at a loss. I can't imagine why you would risk damaging your image by defending a girl…" No… don't say girl, it makes you sound like a child. You want this guy to like you! You backspace with a slight feeling of ridiculousness over the whole scenario. Ugh it's all wrong… calm down... calm down… it's just a conversation. He doesn't know you. He doesn't like you. Don't make it weird like you always do.

You try again.

You: "Thank you Mr. Pascal. I really admire your work and for you to say such kind things to me… to think that you're in my corner, has me completely at a loss for words. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment when you don't even know me, especially when coming to my defense could potentially harm your image… but thank you."

He read it almost immediately. Your heart was beating out of your chest and you felt like you could throw up from the anxiety and adrenaline. After a few seconds, those stress-inducing dot-dot-dots appeared to show you he was typing.

He's actually replying to me?? Again? Doesn't he have better things to do? 

Your mind wandered to what he might be doing while he's messaging you. Sitting at his home, relaxing, taking the time to reply to you? Why? Maybe he's on a plane or waiting for something and killing time. Maybe he's- *ping*

Pedro Pascal replied to your message:

"Please, you can call me Pedro.. and as far as defending you, it doesn't matter to me that we don't know each other personally. You seem like a woman with a good heart, and all you did was share your true self. Nobody deserves to be talked poorly about for something harmless that they feel. If something like that hurts my image… then my true self wasn't being represented. I think we all just want to be seen, and I hope that you will feel comfortable to be yourself and show yourself more."

You don't know when you started crying, but you hiccupped with the overwhelming wave of emotions. He sees me.. you had just scrolled to the bottom of the long reply, when you noticed the "..." of typing again. He has more to say?!

Pedro Pascal: "As far as the subject of your song.. whether you choose to reveal that to him, or the world, you deserve love and respect. Being vulnerable and putting yourself out there is a terrifying thing to do, and I myself tend to close myself off from relationships to avoid that potential for getting hurt. But if that's what you want, you've already taken a big step and you should go for it. I hope that whoever he is gives you the respect and love you deserve."

Holy crap…

He doesn't… he doesn't know it's him right?? No. There's no way. He's just being nice… he's too nice. He's too genuine..??

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard, doing a little dance in the air, pondering what to say. How much can I share with this man? Between this crush and his kind words, it's feeling tricky to hold back from spilling too much information.

You: "Thank you Pedro. You're too kind and I can't properly explain how much I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble coming to terms with all the sudden attention, and finding it hard to ground myself. But your words are helping me a lot. I - "

You hesitated over your next words, wondering if you should open up or just leave it. Don't be weird… don't scare him away like you always have with everyone else. As much as you think of disclosing your hesitation and lack of experience with relationships, as well as your reasons for trepidation, you decide to spare him of your self-hatred. Instead, you delete that last letter and hit send. 

Then you send another message, like he did. "And as far as the guy… I know I don't know him personally, we've never met, but I can already tell he would treat me right. I just hope maybe someday he will love me back."

Immediately after sending it you regretted it. That felt way too open and vulnerable. What are you thinking!?! Shit… what if he sees through you!?

You hold your finger down on the message, ready to hit unsend before he sees it. But it's too late. He's already replying.

Pedro: "He would be stupid not to love you back."

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

You: "Thank you, Pedro. 🥺" Play it cool… Play it cool…

Pedro: "Of course, sweetheart. Feel free to message me if anyone else gives you trouble or you just want to chat. I enjoyed talking with you."

???!!!!!?????!!!!! SweetheartSweetheartSweetheart

You grabbed your nearest pillow and screamed into it. "SKIPPPPPEERRRRRRR!!!!!! I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH PEDRO AND IT WAS MAGICAL AND AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!" You squealed.

Skipper lifted his head at you and sighed before setting his head back down. He was no stranger to your shenanigans. Napping after a good walk was a better use of his energy than to deal with your drama. He closed his little brown eyes again.

You lay back on the couch, kicking your feet and squeezing your pillow to your body.

Fuck, this is going to hit me like a truck if it goes sour. If he even realizes it's about him, probably. Crap… what am I going to do?

The next day, you woke up and checked your emails before work. Thankfully nobody at your workplace has seemed to place your singing voice to your speaking voice, or pieced together the fact that several people know you have a crush on a certain celebrity and are a musician. Thank goodness. That’s the last thing you need.

You closed your eyes for a few minutes, trying to calm your breathing, your nerves, and your heart rate, before relaxing and shaking out your body. Finally, you decided to get ready for bed and see what tomorrow brings.

Your emails come in, one by one, with one intriguing email at the top, from a well known pop-culture show called The Jazz & Ally-Kat Show. They want to do an interview with you, live, as soon as possible. 

Great. They probably just want to see what I look like or have me spill my guts about my crush. You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but feel like the Mandalorian with his lack of face reveals. If only you had a cute little space baby to accompany you. I guess Skip is my own precious cargo in a way, you think, while looking at your still sleeping pup. You're being silly… Not everything needs to relate back to Pedro, you think with a sigh to yourself. 

Yet despite your anxiety, you agreed to their interview, with the exception that it was done as a podcast style interview, where simply your voices are featured. Surprisingly, they agreed. I guess everyone likes some drama, and what better way to get views than by having a little mystery.

The interview was scheduled for three days from then, and in the meantime you focused on work and your album, which was mostly finished after years of writing songs. All it needed was some editing.

As the days went by, you wanted desperately to message Pedro again. You wanted to tell him your feelings. Have him confess that he loves you too. Ask him about his family, his friends, his favorite things. Meet him, kiss him, fall in love, and finally be happy. But ultimately you knew that was silly. You had one little conversation, and although it was nice, you still didn't know each other. There was no way he loved you back. Yet…? you asked yourself, hopeful, almost asking for permission to let yourself try and earn his love. 

Despite Instagram drawing you in like a magnet, you held back from messaging him. You didn't want to come on too strong. You messaged him first last time. He doesn't know you. Literally… he doesn't even know your real name, or what you look like. But maybe that's a good thing…

_____The day of the interview:_____

You woke up around 9:30 in the morning; nervous, slightly nauseated, restless, and jittery. Why did I agree to this??! 

You decided to pass on the coffee this morning, figuring it would make things worse, and instead decided to take Skipper for a walk. After some fresh air followed by a refreshing shower, you looked at the clock. 11:30 AM. With the interview at 1PM, you still had some time to kill and sat down at the piano, letting your mind wander to Pedro while you plunked chords out with nimble fingers. I wonder if Pedro has ever wanted to learn any instruments… I could teach him, you daydream.

Your hands dance across the piano while he reads through a script in the other room, eyebrows furrowed as he highlights another line. You look up over the grand piano and see his soft brown curls blowing under the fan haphazardly. The sun is shining in through the window, which Skip bathes under, and reflects a golden brown undertone with gray streaks in Pedro's hair. He really is beautiful, you think. His tongue swipes across his lips as he makes notes and erases, before finally feeling your eyes on him. He glances up from the script, giving you a soft smile and a wink; with those chocolate brown eyes that frequently cause you to lose your train of thought. Your eyes drift down to the keys again, feeling a soft blush creep over your cheeks. 

"That music sounds beautiful, baby.." he says softly while padding up to you behind the piano. He places his large hands on your shoulders, sweeping them down over both your arms before settling on your hands, still resting over the black and white keys. You look over your shoulder and he leans in, closing his eyes as he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. Just like that scene in Narcos… you think. Yikes, I really am obsessed… anyway… you think back to your daydream…

He sits down at the chair next to your piano bench, kissing your lips again gently, then the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and your jaw. Your stomach gives a wave of butterflies and you lean in more to kiss him deeper, tugging on his hair while his hands find the small of your back, gently running his palms up your spine. A chill overcomes you and he-

~Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.~

Fuck. You snap out of your fantasy and turn off the alarm you set to go off ten minutes before the interview. At least I gave myself time to use the restroom and wash my face, you think, hoping to clear your head a bit now that you're slightly frazzled.

Unfortunately the feeling that replaced it was nerves as you sat down at your desk, typing into your keyboard, turning on your mic, and hoping that Skipper doesn't throw a fit over the wind or something while you're on this call.

Jazz: "Hi there listeners! We're joined by the artist of the moment, our favorite lovesick lady, the singer responsible for "Imaginary Love!"

Both women on the other end of the call applaud.

Well… not sure I like being called a lovesick lady but what else did I expect, really?

You: "Thank you guys for having me, I appreciate you wanting to get to know me better."

Despite the rough start, the ladies turned out to be really respectful and fun. You think that if the circumstances were different, you could actually be friends with them. You discuss casual things like your dog, your favorite activities and favorite pop culture topics (careful to avoid mentioning Pedro or any other actor that could be perceived as your lyrical subject), and they even mention celebrity crushes they've had growing up. 

At the mention of their celebrity crushes, you can feel the interview funnel into a dangerous alley with little to no escape. Jazz was the first to broach the subject. "So… we've just discussed our celebrity crushes, and I think I speak for all of us here when I say we're all very curious to know who-"

-an air horn blares-

What the hell is that? You wonder, both thankful for the interruption, yet startled by the disruption.

They both chime in: "Viewers!!! Do you all know what that sound is!?! We have reached 1 million listeners!!!!"

To say you were astounded is an understatement.

You: "You're kidding!? 1 million people are listening to us right now?"

Ally: "You bet they are! And listeners… I don't know about you guys… but I can't help but wonder if our celebrity heartthrob is one of those million?"

They turn their attention to you again. "What do you think? Think he's listening?"

You're thankful for the lack of a camera, because you can't help but blush at the thought. You'd be lying if you hadn't already considered (hoped) that he was listening too. 

Jazz: "So as we were saying… I think we all are in agreement that we want to know who he is. You sound like a nice enough girl, so what's holding you back? You've made it. You can contact him now and he'll probably reply."

I already have… you thought with a smirk.

Jazz continues: "Which brings me to the next point... I know you've had a lot of attention lately. You were signed to a record company, you were contacted by us, you've been mentioned by a few talk shows and celebrities. Pedro Pascal even publicly defended you. The radio has been playing your song nonstop and people can't get enough. What do you think of all this attention?"

You: "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit surprised and maybe a little scared," you answered with a nervous laugh. "But I am so thankful for the kind words that I receive and I love hearing from people who can relate to my music."

Ally: "You've certainly received your fair share of criticism too. It sounds like you received that before your song was ever published as well."

You: "I have, and it's been challenging to try and not let it get me down. But I'm trying my best, and the positives seem to be greatly outweighing the negatives," you state, your mind thinking of Pedro and how his messages were really the only positive you needed to get you through the dark storm of criticism.

Ally: "I guess what I'm wondering is.. among all these people contacting you.. has he?"

You try to play dumb: "Has who?"

Both interviewers laugh before Ally continues. "Nice try. You know who we're trying to find out about. Has he, the man of your dreams and star of your lyrics, contacted you at all? Will we see a romance blooming?"

Your stomach flipped. You were not expecting this question. Should you tell the truth??? It's not like they could know who has contacted you, short of hacking your account. You have had a lot of people contact you, after all.

You take a deep breath before answering. "I uh… I have received a lot of messages, some of them from celebrities."

They reply, and you can practically feel them leaning in. "Yeeeeaaaah?????"

You consider your next move, your heart really working overtime since this whole thing started. Finally you decide your answer.

"Yes. We've talked."

Looking for Track 1? Read it here!

Next chapter: Here!

~Thanks for reading! Stay ~tuned~ for more!

Taglist: Let me know if you want in :)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02

[gloromeien]

Hellooooo I hope your day is good? Have an ask!

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love! <3

Whoo, my first ask! And from the exceptional and lovely @zenaidamacrouras1, whose fic Monoclonius I'm re-reading right now and loving just as much as the first time. An all-time fave, really, with just the best, sexiest, nerdiest Bucky and the sweetest dad Steve. Check it out if you haven't!

But this of course is supposed to be about *my* fics, so let's get started.

Five Favorite Fics That I've Written:

History Repleating (Or the Proper Care and Feeding of One Steven Grant Rogers), Modern AU, Shrunkyclunks, kidfic

Summary: Captain America!Steve receives a letter from Dr. J.B. Barnes, Brooklyn Historical Society. Except not quite that J.B. Barnes. This leads to Steve and Bucky having a meet cute via Bucky's work as a history teacher. Smut, fluff, and a smidge of angst ensue.

Comments: This one is, IMHO, the best fic I've ever written. Which is not to say it's good, exactly--your mileage may vary--but I don't think I'm ever going to get to this place again. It was winter 2022. We were all just re-emerging from lockdown. I was in the process of caring for my sweet little corgi girl at the end of her life, and I just needed some joy, you know? Something fun to look forward to. I feel like I channeled a lot of those emotions, that grief, into the Steve in this fic. Though it's not a sad fic by any means! It's full of bad jokes and sarcasm and sweetness and found family and people just caring for each other beyond reason. Bucky here is a bright light that comes into Steve's life at just the right moment, that allows him to believe that he could have a real future with someone to love. I really needed to hear that right about then, and so, as Alexander Hamilton sings, I wrote my way out. For that reason and many more, this will always have a special place in my heart.

Last Exit to Brooklyn, Modern AU, Shrunkyclunks, SoulMark

Summary: When Steve Rogers emerged from the ice, he wound up not only in a whole new century, but also with a brand-new soul mark. Knowing that the person he was destined to be with might be just around the corner made it easier for him to settle into a future where happily ever after was a sure thing. Until the Romanian drummer of a 'popular in Europe' heavy metal band, and freight car of personal baggage, come crashing into his life...

Comments: This fic is a confluence of so many things I really, really, really love. Soul mark AUs, for one. I looooooooove those. But I only wanted to write one if I felt like I could bring something new to the table. Once I hit on this particular idea, I knew I had to write it. Also, Tommy Lee!Seb kept me up nights, friends. I loved his look in that so much. As a teen, I had a whole hair metal phase. And it was a fun way to pay a little tribute to Seb's Romanian heritage, so... anyway. I particularly adore some of my Romanian OCs in this--two of them being not so veiled versions of Nadja and Laszlo in What We Do in the Shadows, LOL. Feeling kind of weird about tooting my own horn here, being Canadian and all (Sorry. Sorry. Sorry?) But anyway, they were all really fun to write, even if I think the fic ended up being a little too long and more angsty than I expected. A good thing? A bad thing? You can decide for yourself. ;)

Cut Him Out in Little Stars, Medieval AU, kidfic, arranged marriage

Summary:

Two Houses, both alike in dignity In fair Venora, where we lay our scene

Three years after a brutal, bloody war that saw their formerly friendly queendoms at odds for the first time in history, Prince Steven Rogers of House Grant seeks to solidify the peace between Lehigh and Venora through an alliance--marriage with Prince James Barnes of House Buchanan, his childhood friend turned unexpected enemy. But after years as the Fist of Hydra and a long recovery from brainwashing and torture, Bucky isn't in a place to marry anyone, let alone someone he doesn't even remember. Stubborn to the core, afflicted by tragic losses, and still half in love with someone who might only be a memory, Steve and his family journey to Lynbrooke, the capital of Venora, to attempt to end the tension between their queendoms, and perhaps heal his wounded heart.

Comments: My least-viewed fic by a wide margin, but one that I really love. Playing with the big tropes can be so much fun, and arranged marriage is one of the biggest and messiest. I also rewatched Seb in Kings right before writing this, and it started as a crossover between the world of that series and the idea of arranged marriage. But eventually it took its own path. I have a total soft spot for the Bucky in this one. Probably the most broken I've ever written him. I shy away from Winter Soldier recovery fics--love reading them, will never write one myself--and this is the closest I'll probably get to that. One of the reasons it's close to my heart is because I feel like they really earn their happy ending in this one.

A Slaying in Scarlet, a LOTR Mystery

Summary: On the eve of Aragorn’s coronation, Legolas and Elrohir are charged with investigating a brutal murder at the Citadel.

Comments: My AO3 account is split into two eras. From about 2002-2010-ish, I was heavily involved in the LOTR fandom, specifically writing Legolas/Elrohir, but also a few other pairings, including some OOC pairings along the way. After that, I went off to be a romance writer for a little while (and yes, I'm going to shamelessly plug my Stoker & Bash mystery romance series, because I'm fucking proud of them.) Then watching FatWS knocked me for six, and here we are, all Stucky, all the time. All this to say that my early LOTR work, I am certain, is not good. I have not re-read anything in ages, nor will I ever, most likely. But it was in writing those fics that I found a bit of my voice, and they gave me courage as a writer, and so I couldn't leave them off this list completely. This one is a Sherlock Holmes type deal, because I am also obsessed with mysteries. Hopefully it stands up a little bit. Buyer beware.

A Place to Rest and Remember Yourself (In My Arms), Shrunkyclunks

Summary: It's 2015, and Steve is living in a post-publicly coming out world. His every move is scrutinized in the tabloids and on social media, he's still wrestling with life in the 21st century, and the paparazzi never give him any peace. Making friends who aren't co-workers is practically impossible, let along dating. His solution? Have a regular, no-strings 'arrangement' with one of Natasha's honeypots. Bucky is a former spy and adventurer who used to work for S.H.I.E.L.D., but left for *reasons*. Having just gotten his heart ripped to shreds by a traitorous ex, he finds the idea of a discreet, 'with benefits' arrangement with his teenage-years crush very, very appealing. But you know what they say about what happens the minute you stop looking for love...

Comments: I wanted to write something quick and fun and smutty as hell for Stucky Week 2023. Instead... *sighs* You'll note that this ended up being 18 freaking chapters long. Why am I like this? I wish I knew.

One of my fic-writing missions is to give Steve Rogers the ending he deserves. The MCU did not treat him or his PTSD right--this is well-established in both fandom and a ton of metas more insightful than anything I could ever write on the subject. But where I feel like I maybe can address this a little is in fic. My aim here was to just spoil Steve rotten. To give him the literal world back, in the form of a Bucky who has serious wanderlust. It was also so much fun to play with Doctor Strange and the whole Sanctum Sanctorum stuff, Layla and Marc, Darcy of course, Nat and Sam. The 'love shield' Steve throws up in front of the press was inspired by Harry Windsor's PR move from many moons ago. My favorite part, about this fic, about writing fics in general, is when love just kind of happens to two people who aren't really paying attention, and suddenly it's everything, and they have to conform their lives to this new gorgeous reality. Anyway that's what I'm going for in every fic I write.

This was more talking about myself than any Canadian should do in a month, let alone a day. I need to go lie down. I don't love tagging other authors in these things, but if @burberrycanary, @bluesimplicity73, @musette22, @leveragehunters, or @dontcallmebree haven't done this yet and feel like it, I would love to read your thoughts on your incredible fics. And you, readers, please don't miss any of their tremendous work. Take it from me, their amazing stories (and Zenaida's) keep many a monster at bay when the night is dark and full of terrors. Big love to everyone out there sharing their creative endeavors with the world! <3

[applesontheground]

Please please please write something for Mickey Altieri

my pleasure!

@bisexual-horror-fan had also asked about me writing mickey some time again, and god what a good idea for this month especially. just had to find a good spot to fit him in, and when i saw two of my favorite kinks for this prompt...i put two and two together pretty quick. this was going to be another fucking saw fic if i didn't decide to mix it up.

forgive the day late disease all over this one yet again (that's just gonna be a thing depending on how bad work beats my ass as we get through the last stretch of kinktober), but know i'm still in it.

help you face the nightmare 📞

KINKTOBER 2024 | DAY TWENTY FOUR - GLOVES & SOMNOPHILIA

NSFW | Word Count: 1,174 | Mickey Altieri x AFAB Reader (GN pronouns) contains dubious consent/read the goddamn sign if you expect the reader to be awake for a majority of this, fingering, sensory play/gloves, grinding 🎼: x, x (been on a nyasty apc kick these last few days)

[Y/C/M] = Your College Major

It was sort of like a sleepover that had refused to end.

Mickey and you were the last two standing of a four roommate setup that started when you headed off to college, and halfway through both of your degrees, there came interruptions that left you and him with the rent to yourselves – along with the townhouse with far too much space for just a film major who couldn’t hold down a girlfriend to save his life and a [Y/C/M] major who just…wasn’t interested. Hitting a few sour branches when falling from the tree of college relationships, you were satisfied with yourself – and obviously with Mickey.

Although it was only temporary, the two of you needed to either move out or find the missing pieces to fill your old roommates’ spots, but it was manageable for the time since both of you found odd jobs between classes. Not to mention Mickey pulled in significant funds with his “night shift”.

“What?” You laughed, “You don’t date because you go whore out in the evening, or what?”

“It’s complicated.” He shrugged off, “And our bills are paid, so it’s none of your business either.”

“No hate!” You laughed, “Just impressed you make holding it down look easy.” He smiled at that, eyes a little too bright and voice a little too eager at the notion. “Thank you, [Y/N].”

You hadn’t asked after that, but part of you did enjoy pushing on it just to see him nearly fall over himself to not tell you what his night job was. Messing with him in general was fun, especially with no other partners – or other housemates – to notice the two of you also liked to be physical when being silly. Pinning each other on the couch, slugging each other on the arm, grabbing any unattended wrist or shoulder, and making comments about how there wasn’t a single crumb of cock or cunt between the two of you in a surprisingly warm fashion.

“We need to stop. People are going to start thinking something’s up.” Mickey mentioned one day, walking you to class despite him not having anything close in proximity on campus to be at himself.

“What?” You sniffed, “The guy following me to my 3PM and who doesn’t seem to take any other advance thrown his way seriously might wanna bone me?”

“Shut up,” He retorted, “Like [he/she doesn’t / they don’t] even play with that idea. Throw the guy a bone, and see what happens.” You glanced at him from the side, but didn’t answer. When you made it to the building, you commented, “See you at home, alright? Unless you want to stand out here for three hours.”

Smiling at him, he shrugged you off in acceptance, walking backwards with a hand up as he replied, “See you.”

And see you at home he didn’t. You had considered the refusal to humor him was taken too seriously; to humor the idea that if you put yourself out there with him, it would catch fire and be hook, line, sinker. You didn’t need that, enjoying his company enough after a few years of knowing each other, but making him a boyfriend?

Not yet, you assured yourself. There was nothing wrong with not yet.

Shrugging his absence off, you headed to bed after a few hours of homework, and the minute your head hit the pillow and thoughts grew heavy, far more rich with detail with closed eyes – you saw the mask.

The ghostfaced killer was long dead, the members being two high school boys that had messed with the wrong girl. Sidney Prescott actually went to college with you and Mickey, one of his friends she had made since their classes in videography and drama were in the same arts building.

She didn’t talk about it, but unfortunately she didn’t have to. You saw that mask more than enough with the popularity of the movie based of the encounter – kindly named Stab. The fall weather growing closer now, you sure saw the ghastly face enough at various parties.

The mask hovered over you, and your name slid from underneath the plastic. “Hi, [Y/N]. Did you miss me?”

“I’m sorry,” You spoke in your sleep, unaware it was crossing over to the real world, spoken into your pillow. “Have we met?”

“More than you think,” A heat, rubbing of nitrile material and with enough care to consider you were having a weird doctor-oriented dream on top of a serial killer one – caught your chest. Going under the shirt, you whimpered, but was immediately assured. “Easy, I’m not going too roughly with you, am I? You’re still asleep, after all."

You didn't answer, merely humming at that and trying to relax, slipping into comfort from the touching by gloved hands. It ran laps over your hips, squeezing before coming back up to your chest, your neck as your shirt was pulled up.

“Like that?” He ran his hands up your thighs now, sliding your underwear half down, a bit of a tussle but careful enough to keep you wanting your eyes closed, the heavy blankets around you getting confused with the cloak the ghostface often wore. You tugged experimentally, but it wasn't until a finger touched your pussy that you stirred for real.

When you snapped your eyes open, he wasn’t wearing the mask like you had seen in your dreams. Voice changer, a little white box, up to his mouth, eyes wide and hungry in the dark.

“Well, look who’s awake. Hi, [babygirl/babycakes].” He smiled behind the box, putting it down just in case you didn’t believe it was him, seeing his full face now. “Oh, don’t mind me." He shook his head as you tensed, accidentally grinding into his palm. "You’ve been doing most of the work anyways. Fucking knew it.”

The hand graced your entrance again, pushing through once more, and tired muscles pushed down on them without a second thought. You let out a sleepy murmur, trying to ask a question but smooth nitrile on your lips stopping you. “Hold it, don’t talk now.” Mickey hushed, “We can talk about this later, all you and I need to focus on right now is how great you feel around my fingers.”

Looking up at him, shivering around his intrusion despite having dreamt the whole thing – or at least, dreamt through most of it – you complied with your head falling backwards.

“Finally.” He sounded like he was getting off himself, pitching a tent against your leg as he moved his hand, dragging his jean-clad erection against your slick entrance. You grabbed the back of his head, fingers curling into buzz-short hair he kept in the back, longer as you trailed up but needing as close to his skin as you could manage, clawing at the bristles and making him roll his eyes, clench his jaw slightly.

Still, he couldn’t stop that mouth of his from running, laughing from behind a glint of his teeth

 “Look at how good this feels when we stop lying about it.”

[pulisicsgirl]

spaces between us - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N and Christian's relationships has been strained lately due to conflicting schedules and minimal effort to spend time with one another. Y/N's plan to talk to Christian about it goes awry and drives the couple further apart from each other.

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 5.3k

warnings/tags: angst and arguing (but it turns out okay in the end don't worry), Christian is a little bit of a dick, Y/N is a little bit overdramatic, but also sickening fluff, Christian is a lovesick twat, use of the phrase "whooping and hollering" (I'm sorry, I'm painfully American), hasty proofreading (because I’m posting this at 3 am and I have classes tomorrow morning), and like one suggestive comment

requested: yes!!!

notes: thank you so so much to @chelseagirl98 for sending this request in!! I had so much fun writing it, and I hope it lives up to your expectation! I tried a little something new with the text messages, so let me know what you think of that! Also, I think this is my first time writing a fight/make-up fic like this, so it might not be very good, but I welcome any constructive criticism! :)

As always, requests are still open! Send any ideas my way! 💙

You moved quickly around the kitchen, juggling bowls and ingredients as you did your best to prepare a homecooked meal to surprise Christian with when he got home from training. It wasn’t anything all that special, and you weren’t a five-star chef by any means, but you were trying your hardest—and that had to count for something, right?

For the last several weeks, you had sensed a distance forming between you and Christian. With his busy life as a footballer and your inconsistent work hours, it had been difficult to find time to see one another. On the rarer days that you were home together in the evening, you were both exhausted, quickly finding something to eat (often some takeout delivery that you ordered online) before setting things in order and going straight to bed. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Christian had just sat down to spend time together, sharing a conversation with any amount of substance.

After a particularly bitter morning where the two of you had moved around each other in the kitchen and bathroom without sharing a word or interacting almost at all, you had miraculously gotten out of work early. Deciding that enough was enough, you ran to the store to pick up some ingredients, resolving to cook a nice meal that you and Christian could sit down and eat together. You hoped it would give you a chance to catch up after the last few weeks of simply living in the same house but not truly being together.

It took you about an hour, but you completed the recipe successfully. As you turned off the burner on the stove and began dishing the food onto plates, you heard the jingle of Christian’s keys as he walked through the front door.

“Babe?” you called out. You listened for his footsteps as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was looking down as he came into your view, eyes locked on something on his phone screen. “Hey,” you addressed him uncertainly, wiping your forehead from the heat that had built up in the kitchen from the hour you had spent cooking. Your voice cause his head to snap up to look at you.

“Hey, babe,” he smiled, glancing back at his phone quickly before he turned it off and shoved it in his pocket. He walked around the kitchen island and pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “What’s all this?”

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, hoping for a little more than a side-hug and a kiss on the head from your boyfriend after not seeing him all day. You tried to brush the feeling off.

“I made dinner!” you replied, a hopeful tone to your voice. You pulled from his side to grab his plate, handing it to him.

“Oh thank goodness,” he took a whiff of the food before walking to the other side of the kitchen island, sitting down in one of the tall chairs. He mumbled a quick, “thanks so much, babe,” before he began devouring the food swiftly.

Again, you tried to brush off the weird feeling that washed over you. You knew he must be hungry after a long day of training—they had even gone a bit late today. You tried to focus on the short expression of gratitude instead as you picked up your own plate, choosing to stand across from him, leaning on the countertop so you could face him while you ate.

The two of you remained there in silence, him scarfing down the food like it was his last meal while you just moved the food around the plate as you stared at it, still feeling uneasy.

You opened your mouth to ask about how training had gone that day, hoping to spark a conversation between the two of you, but movement from the other side of the counter caught you off-guard before you could speak. Having cleaned his plate already, Christian stood from his chair, stepping around it before he pushed it in. He moved to the sink, dropping the empty plate in. He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“It was really good, babe. Thank you.” He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna head up to shower.” He stepped to walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

“Are you serious, Christian?” You felt the anger finally spilling over in your chest, the heat rising up your neck an into your face. You were beyond frustrated that all of the effort you had gone to had lasted in a five-minute shared silence before he rushed upstairs to shower and go to bed.

Christian turned back around to face you, eyes wide with confusion. You could see him obliviously wracking his brain for what he had done wrong.

“I’m sorry, I can wash my plate,” he spoke quickly as he took two steps back toward the sink before you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s not about the stupid plate, Christian.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he took a step back from you, surprised by the anger you were displaying. “I went to all this trouble to go get the ingredients and spent all this time to make a home-cooked meal, and all I get is five minutes and ‘it was good, thank you’?”

Christian’s eyes were still wide, taken aback by your reaction. “I’m sorry, it was a really long day. I’m just pretty tired.” The way he said the words made them seem like more of a question.

“You’re always ‘tired’, Christian!” You put air quotes around the word, feeling yourself get more and more worked up about the situation. You felt like now that you were finally voicing your frustrations, all of the emotions were starting to spill over. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks! We never see each other anymore, and I’m sick of living in the same house as my boyfriend, but never seeing him!” You began raising your voice without meaning to and you felt your eyes burning with tears. You mentally cursed yourself for crying so easily when you were angry.

“Y/N, I-“

Sensing another excuse coming on, you cut him off. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning!”

Interrupting Christian and not allowing him to explain himself was a sure way to irritate him, and it immediately put him on the defensive.

“Well, you didn’t kiss me before I left either!” He knew it was a weak defense, but in his frustration, it was the only thing he could come up with. “I’m not the only one in this relationship, Y/N! You could afford to put in a little effort once in a while, instead of just pointing fingers.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, and Christian instantly wished he could take them back, not having meant them at all. “You are unbelievable, Christian. Unbelievable.” You scowled, pushing past him to walk out of the kitchen.

He grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking away, and you shook your head, pulling your arm from his grasp. “No, stop. Come talk to me when you’re ready to act like a half-decent boyfriend.”

You stormed down the hallway to your shared bedroom, slamming the door to the bathroom closed and locking it in case Christian tried to follow you and take back what he had said. Moments later, you heard the doorknob jiggle softly, confirming your prediction.

You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks as you glumly went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth, combing out your hair, and washing your face. You tried to ignore your red and swollen eyes from crying as you looked in the mirror.

Once you had finished, you unlocked the door and walked into the bedroom. You did your best to ignore Christian sitting silently on the side of the bed as you walked over to the closet and changed quickly into your pajamas from the night before, scoffing quietly as you realized that it just entailed one of his bigger T-shirts. Nonetheless, you slipped it over your head and flipped the closet light off, closing the door behind you as you exited.

Without a word, you walked to your side of the bed, pulling the sheets and comforter back, crawling in, and covering yourself up, facing away from Christian.

His heart had broken at the sight of your tear-streaked face before you had climbed into the bed. He knew that it was probably best to give you some space for now, so he stood to collect his things and go take his shower. You didn’t miss the soft sigh that left his lips before he stood.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

You finally allowed yourself to let go, crying out all of the hurt that had built up over the last several weeks. You felt the pain physically in your heart, a hollow feeling in your chest—you were a part of a whole, missing your other half.

It didn’t take long for Christian to finish his shower, and you heard the water turn off. You tried to calm yourself before he left the bathroom, not wanting him to see you in such a weak state after your fight.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Christian moving around the room. You did your best to silence your sniffles, but he still heard them, and he felt the painful cracks in his heart tearing open a little further.

You felt the mattress dip behind you as his weight settled into the bed. His arm appeared in front of your body for a moment and you felt him leaning over you to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled. As petty as you wanted to be, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t say it back to him.

His weight settled into the bed behind you, not daring to pull you into his arms. The light in the room disappeared with the click of the lamp turning off, and the two of you lay there in silence.

A thousand thoughts were running through both of your heads, but you remained on your side with your back turned to him. You wrapped your arms around your torso, attempting to hold yourself for some sort of comfort against the foreign feeling of falling asleep without being tucked into Christian’s side.

*****

Since it was the weekend, the sun was already peeking through the curtains when you awoke. By instinct, you rolled over, reaching toward the other side of the bed, but your hand only landed on the cold, empty sheets. You snapped your eyes open, finding no sign of Christian’s presence, and the memories of your argument from the night before flooded your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated groan, pressing your face further into the pillow. The uneasy feeling that you always had when you and Christian fought settled in your chest, and you spend a few moments staring at the wall, allowing yourself to give in to the self-pity for a moment before getting up to face the difficult situation.

A buzzing sound coming from your bedside table pulled you from your thoughts, and you rolled back over, lazily grabbing your phone from where it was charging. As the screen lit up, you saw that you had a text from Mason.

You dropped your head back on the pillow for a moment with a sigh. Fighting like this wasn’t doing either of you any good—you both knew it, but this was the main problem you two seemed to face. You didn’t fight often, but when you did, you both struggled to get over your own pride and make it up to each other.

You sent the message and threw the sheets off of your legs, deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee and try to wake up. The tiles of the kitchen floor were cold on your bare feet as you walked across them.

You placed your mug under the coffee maker and started it, leaning against the counter. The cold marble touched your back through the thin material of your—well, Christian’s—shirt and the feeling sent a shiver through your body. You tucked your arms around your stomach, trying to find some sense of warmth and comfort in the otherwise bitter morning.

As your thoughts wandered, you found yourself missing the mornings that you and Christian had previously shared in this very kitchen. Lately, you had barely interacted as you moved around each other, making your coffee and packing lunches, barely mumbling a few words to one another. But before all of that, when you had first moved in together, you couldn't get enough of each other in the mornings. You would always find yourself in his arms, standing between his legs as he leaned against the counter. His large hands would run up and down your sides, sometimes finding their way under his shirt that you wore to stroke the bare skin of your back gently. You would nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent while he pressed a kiss into your hair. The only audible noise was the coffee maker and the steady drip of coffee into the mug as the two of you waited for it to finish brewing. It was the perfect start to every day, and frequently you found yourself getting out of bed earlier than you needed to just so you would have more time to waste, wrapped in Christian’s arms. Even on your days off, when he would still have training, you would get up with him so you could share those brief moments together before he left for the day and you crawled back into bed.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head to rid it of the daydream you had nearly gotten lost in. The lights seemed to be more dull now that you were left standing in the kitchen on your own, no lover to hold you close and share his warmth.

You rubbed your hands over your arms, attempting to rid them of the goosebumps that has risen up. Your phone lit up with another notification.

 Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment. It was then that you remembered—Chelsea had a game today. You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration with yourself—the game had completely slipped your mind.

Clearly, you weren’t completely innocent in the fact that you and Christian hadn’t been spending time together recently.

You grabbed the finished cup of coffee, pouring a bit of creamer in it before you hurried back up to your bedroom to get changed.

You turned the phone’s screen off, tossing it onto your bathroom counter before turning on your shower and stepping in. You tried to move as quickly as possible, hoping to make it to the stadium and set things right before the game began. You knew that Christian didn’t play as well when he was upset, and the last thing you wanted was to be the reason Chelsea’s golden American had a poor performance.

Plus, you selfishly just wanted to be rid of the empty feeling that came with any separation between you and Christian.

When you stepped out of the shower and onto the soft mat, having completely rinsed off, the room was stuffy and the steam had fogged up the mirror. When you checked your phone again, Mason had texted you several minutes before, right after you had jumped in the shower.

You finished getting ready in record time, running out of the front door with your hair still slightly damp, and you prayed that no one noticed how hastily your makeup had been done. You tapped your fingers nervously on the steering wheel as you drove toward Stamford Bridge, the minutes creeping closer and closer to the time for kickoff as you sat in the London traffic.

When you finally arrived, you rushed to the private entrance, sending Mason a short text as you walked to let him know that you had arrived. The face that greeted you was not Mason’s, but one of the security staff that you recognized from your many trips to the Bridge over the last couple of years. He greeted you with a warm smile, explaining that Mason had sent him to fetch you since they were already beginning to leave the changing room and line up for the tunnel walk when he had gotten your text.

The security guard led you through the winding halls of the stadium and up to the box where the family and friends of the team would sit together. You found your way into an empty seat next to Sophia, Kai’s girlfriend, and she greeted you with a warm welcome and a quick embrace.

When you turned your eyes to the pitch, your heart sank as you realized the players were already standing on the field, in position and awaiting the starting whistle. You realized you would have no chance to try to wave to Christian to get his attention before the game started. Unless Mason had told him, he likely didn’t have a clue you were even in the stadium.

You were, however, thankful to see that Christian had still made the starting lineup, despite his run-in with Potter earlier in the morning. But as the whistle sounded out and the boys began moving around the pitch, it quickly became clear that he wasn’t playing up to his usual standard. He seemed to be two steps behind on every play, making sloppy touches that would give possession to the defender. He was in his own head, and it was affecting every move he made on the field.

Sophia and you didn’t talk much through the first half. She knew how intensely you typically watched the matches, but she noticed how quiet you were compared to the lively and rambunctious cheering you usually brought on game day.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the half, Chelsea was trailing, 1-0. With Christian on the front line unable to focus enough to make a proper play, the entire offense struggled to create opportunities, and the whole team seemed to be lagging.

You watched as Christian walked sullenly toward the tunnel, head hung low. You knew he was frustrated with himself for his performance so far in the game, and you resented the part you had to play in that.

Sophia, noticing the solemn way you looked at your boyfriend, knew that something was off. She draped her arm over the back of your seat, asking you about your somber mood as soon as your attention had shifted away from Christian since he had disappeared down the tunnel. You sighed and began recounting the former night’s event to her in a quiet voice, hoping none of the other family members in the box were listening in. You told her about how Christian had come home, barely eating the dinner you had prepared before trying to leave the kitchen. You told her about the foolish words you had both let fly out of frustration, stupid accusations that neither of you meant. You told her how you were afraid that you and Christian had lost your “spark,” that feeling of never wanting to let the other go that every couple felt when they first got together. You told her that you were afraid that you didn’t know how to get it back.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a teardrop splashed on your hand. You used your fingers to wipe carefully under your eyes, trying not to smear the makeup you had hastily put on only a couple of hours before.

Sophia opened her mouth to address your concerns when something caught her eye over your shoulder. You turned to see that the boys were walking out of the tunnel, and you waited impatiently to try to catch a glimpse of Christian.

When he finally emerged, Mason’s arm was slung over his shoulders, holding him close as Mason seemed to be trying to give him words of encouragement. His head was still hung low. Mason squeezed his arm around Christian, turning him to face the stands once they were standing on the pitch, and pointed in your direction. A frown creased his eyebrows as his eyes followed where Mason’s finger was pointing.

When his eyes landed on you, his face softened immediately, the frown vanishing from his expression. His eyes grew big, his arms falling to his sides as he took you in, wearing the blue jersey that he knew bore his name across the shoulders. Mason ruffled his hair with a grin, walking away to let him have his moment, but Christian didn’t pay him any mind, only focused on you.

You raised your hand, giving Christian a shy wave. The faintest of smiles curled his lips, tainted with a hint of sadness. He brought his fingers to his lips, blowing you a short kiss before he moved further onto the pitch. He walked backward for a few steps, still looking at you before he turned and jogged to his starting position for the second half.

Sophia drew the arm that had been draped over the back of your chair back to her side, nudging you gently. She had a grin on her face when you looked over. “Yeah, that spark is still there. Don’t worry,” she reassured. You covered your face with your hand, trying to hide the blush that you knew was covering your cheeks. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It happens to every couple, especially after you’ve been living together for a while.”

“Really?” you asked hopefully.

“Really,” she smiled. “It happened with Kai and I, too. A few months after he transferred to Chelsea and we moved to London, there was about a month where we barely ever saw each other. It took a screaming match and then us both crying on the floor of the kitchen with a bottle of wine for us to get past it.” The two of you laughed at the story, and you wiped another tear from your face. “But we were stronger after we got through it. And you and Christian will be too, I know it.”

She took your hand in hers and squeezed in an effort to comfort you. “Just remember to be intentional about spending time together. Life will get crazy from time to time, but if you keep pursuing each other, you’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” you smiled genuinely at her. “You really give the best advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She pulled you into a side hug, over the arm of the stadium seats. As you pulled away from each other, the sound of the whistle rang through the air, and the second half was under way. You took in a big breath, letting it out slowly and praying silently that this 45’ would go better than the first had.

In a matter of minutes, it was clear that Christian was a completely different player than he had been in the first half. He was positioning himself well to make runs, taking much more controlled and calculated touches, and beating his opponents to the ball. Chelsea had made several great plays, pressing up the field and creating several breaks that resulted in near-goals. The whole stadium seemed to be holding its breath, hoping that it was only a matter of time before one of the presses ended with the ball in the net.

It finally happened in the 54th minute. With renewed fervor, the back line moved the ball around the defensive half before Thiago played the ball up the field toward the left wing. Christian broke through the opposing defense, carrying the ball up the line with players right on his heels. With quick feet, he came up to the side of the penalty box, crossing the ball toward the center.

A hush fell over the crowd as the ball floated through the air, toward a mess of players from both teams in the box. You and Sophia leaped to your feet, along with the rest of the audience, watching as the ball landed at Kai’s feet. With a quick touch to settle it, he shot the ball through the maze of defenders into the top corner of the goal. The keeper’s fingers just missed the ball, and the entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheering as the net shook with the ball’s impact.

Kai ran towards the sideline, embracing Christian in celebration, much the same way that you and Sophia clung to one another, jumping up and down as you yelled and cheered.

As the game resumed, Chelsea seemed to have hit their second wind, the game-tying goal driving them in their desire to get another. Several chances were created in the following minutes, the crowd letting out groans at the barely-missed shots that held the potential to propel Chelsea into the lead.

You were starting to get nervous as the game approached it’s last 10 minutes, not wanting the game to end in a draw after Chelsea’s incredible turn-around. You anxiously bit at the skin around your fingernails as you watched.

In the 86th minute, as fans from both sides were beginning to get restless, Reece played a quick ball through the line, Christian sprinting to catch up with it as he broke through the defense and drove quickly down the field. It was a one-on-one between him and the keeper now. He approached the penalty box swiftly as the keeper came out to meet him, trying to force a mistake. But Christian kept his head about him, taking a calculated touch to curve the ball around to the right of the keeper as he dropped to the ground in an attempt to block the shot.

The ball bounced off of the goalpost and across the line. Once again, the fans erupted in a chorus of applause and shouting. Christian sprinted back up the field, coming to stand at the sideline in front of where he knew you were sitting. The rest of the Chelsea boys ran up behind him, embracing him or ruffling his hair in congratulations. Ignoring all of the chaos around him as his teammates whooped and hollered, Christian locked eyes with you, tapping his hand over his heart.

You raised your fist to your lips, pinky pointed up as you kissed your hand. Christian mimicked your action. It was a silly thing the two of you did that had started back when you were still only friends and continued throughout your relationship. You would link your fingers together in a pinky promise, kissing your hands, as a reminder of the promise you made to always be there for each other.

The boys pulled Christian away from the sideline, still thumping him on the back as they yelled in celebration.

The last minutes of the game passed quickly, and Chelsea fans voiced their approval as the final whistle blew, signaling the game’s end in a 2-1 victory for the Blues. The players and staff for both teams made their way onto the pitch, shaking hands cordially, offering words of congratulations to one another, and embracing their own players. You and Sophia moved down toward the barrier that separated the seats from the field, waiting where the boys would usually come to greet their loved ones.

It didn’t take long for Kai to come running over, leaning up to bring Sophia into a sweet kiss. They smiled at each other, sharing quiet words as she congratulated him on his goal. You saw nothing but adoration in their eyes as they looked at one another, and the sight warmed your heart.

Kai looked over to you after a few moments. “Your lover boy will be over here any minute,” he laughed. “As soon as he can get all the guys to stop hounding him for his game-winning goal.” You giggled at his words, eyes still searching through the mass of people for him.

Christian finally emerged, pushing through the crowd in your direction. As soon as he set his eyes on you, he ran the last few yards, arms outstretched to pull you into an embrace. Not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body, you leaned over the short barrier, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies finally met.

Unsatisfied with the space left between you, Christian carefully pulled you over the barrier separating the two of you. You squealed in surprise before he set you on the ground in front of him, still holding your body firmly, refusing to let go of you for fear that you could slip away.

His face was buried in your neck and you brushed your fingers over his damp skin to soothe him. His arms still kept a firm hold on your waist when he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were moist with tears when as he gazed down at you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I was being stupid, and I never should have—”

“Shhh,” you cut him off, cupping his jaw with your hand. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes darted around your face, searching for any reassurance that the two of you were okay after the fight. “I know, Christian. It’s okay.” You saw the relief washing over Christian’s body as he pulled you into a gentle kiss, pressing his lips firmly to yours as he tried to communicate all of the things he was feeling.

“We can talk about everything when we get home, okay?” you asked softly, and he nodded, smiling down at you. “Right now, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

The pink blush immediately painted his cheeks as he grinned sheepishly and hid his face in your shoulder. You giggled at his actions, knowing that he never took compliments well, yet you refused to stop telling him how highly you thought of him. You held the back of his head and felt him place a couple kisses to your shoulder before he stood up to look at your face again.

“I’m sorry I got you all sweaty,” he pulled the long-sleeved compression shirt over his hand, using it to wipe your neck off as you both laughed together.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at him. “You’ll just have to help me wash it off in the shower later.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your suggestive comment as a grin spread across his face.

The two of you waved to Kai and Sophia as Christian took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked away from them.

He brought your intertwined hands up to his face, kissing the back of yours as you made your way toward the tunnel so you could leave the stadium.