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hyukalyptus · 1 year ago

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something nice — sub!fem!reader x dom!yeonjun x servicetop!kai

cw. reader is in an established (open) relationship with yeonjun, cucking? (kai eats reader's pussy while yj watches lol), cunnilingus ofc, nipple play, orgasm denial, edging, pet names (baby, jjun), begging, mention of "punishment" but nothing's ever done, yeonjun and kai talk about reader and what they're gonna do to her (without her understanding—everything is consensual in the beginning, but read note below), let me know if there's anything else. notes. IMPORTANT: ok so the tea with this one. the idea here is that the reader doesn't speak korean well and kai and yj are speaking korean to kinda talk about the reader and what they're gonna do to her so she doesn't understand. nothing aggressive, just describing what to do to her body so she's kinda surprised? SO!! anything in italics is in korean. thats important!! also idk how i feel about this???? smut under cut. wc. 1.5K

“Did she give you a reason or did she just break up with you?” You’re eavesdropping on Yeonjun and Kai—not that they’re being very secretive. They’re talking about a woman Kai’s been seeing while you play video games and attempt to translate in your head, but you're not being too successful, catching a few words here and there.

“She did say one thing,” Kai says hesitantly. “But it’s kinda embarrassing.”

“What is it?”

“Well,” he starts, scooting closer to Yeonjun to awkwardly whisper something to him, twiddling his thumbs, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh,” Yeonjun chuckles. “That’s…man, if you get really good at that, you could date anyone.”

“What are you talking about?” You finally pause your game, curiosity getting the best of you. Looking up, Kai looks like you caught him stealing cookies from a cookie jar while Yeonjun tries to hold back a chuckle. The three of you exchange looks until Yeonjun rolls his eyes to bluntly say—

“Eating women out.”

“Yeonjun—!” Kai says, shoving his arm.

“What?” He chuckles, returning the shove. “I eat her out all the time. She knows what it is. She knows you eat pussy too.”

“But that’s why that woman broke up with you?” You ask. “Because you…you're bad at eating pussy?” He blushes, averting his attention to the floor while he clasps his hands together, nodding shyly.

“Be honest, babe—am I good at eating you out?”

Looking between the two of them, you sit up and say, “Yeah, you’re probably the best I’ve had, but we’re super compatible, you know? We’re, like, super in love. That makes a big difference sometimes.”

Holding back a cocky smile, he asks, “But, objectively, I’m pretty good, right?” You shrug and nod—really, he probably is the best you’ve ever had, but that’s another story.

“What makes it good?” Kai asks.

Humming, you think before saying, “First, he doesn’t go straight for it.” Turning red and ears getting warm, you gush and— “Oh god, Kai, don’t look at me when I tell you this.”

“Ah, this is ridiculous,” Yeonjun exasperates. “Do you just wanna practice on her?” You both whip your heads in his direction. “If you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he says to you. “Just thought it might be helpful.”

Oh, how did you end up here? Laying in Yeonjun's bed, clenching your thighs together out of nervousness. “Remember, this is kinda specific to her. Pay attention to what whoever you’re with wants.” Kai nods, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

“She already said this—” Yeonjun says. “I don’t go straight for it. I kiss her first, then make my way down there.”

“You want him to kiss me?”

He shrugs and says, “If you’re alright with that.”

“If you are,” you say, looking Kai in the eyes. Both of them can’t help but notice the confidence you seem to be exuding, especially compared to Kai. Trembling fingers reaching for your cheek, he looks at you for permission one final time. Finally leaning in, his lips press to yours.

You’d forgotten what it was like to have a first kiss with someone. Kai’s kisses are different from Yeonjun’s. Kai’s are much more cautious, more careful—not necessarily shy, but careful. It quickly turns hot and heavy. But you remember Yeonjun is watching you, suddenly overtaken with bashfulness, you break the kiss to glance over at him.

Him and that sinister smile.

Turning back to Kai, you crash into his lips again, humming into his mouth and smirking to rub how much you're enjoying this in Yeonjun's face.

“Touch her,” Yeonjun says. “Kinda slowly, but then a little more intense.” Kai does as he’s told, his hand dragging up your hip to squeeze your tits. “Under her shirt.”

His hand on the outside of your bra feels new and exciting. Reaching around your back to unhook it, you break the kiss to take your shirt off, pulling at the hem of his.

“Slow down for a second,” Yeonjun chuckles and Kai listens, placing gentle kisses to your collarbone. “Lick her nipples.” Swirling his tongue around your nipple, you gasp, reaching for his hair. “Pay attention to which one she likes better.”

Kai tests both, slyly licking between the two. After testing the waters, he picks correctly. You chuckle thinking about Yeonjun sitting on a chair across the room, smirking in approval. You could look for yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

“Keep licking her until her hips roll.” This is a bit crazy, isn’t it? The guy you love telling another man how to fuck you the way you like. “Not yet.” Yeonjun switches to Korean, making you roll your eyes. If you didn’t have the energy to translate in your head earlier, you definitely can’t focus enough to translate now.

Lips trailing down your body, he tugs at your shorts, but keeps your cute pink panties on. Yeonjun talks him through every move—to lick his thumb and rub your nipple, to press his nose to the outside of your panties, to skate his lips across your inner thighs.

Your hips roll uncontrollably, practically begging him to taste you.

“Kai—” You whisper, your body instantly burning at the sound of the both of them chuckling. Pulling your panties down and off your legs, he throws them to Yeonjun who happily wads them up to sniff them and smell how delicious you are.

Licking his thumb again, he keeps rubbing circles over your nipple as he finally licks your clit, your back arching as soon as he touches it.

“Fuck—” You say breathlessly, looking down at him as his eyes sparkle up at you, your head dropping to your pillow with a thud. “Who the fuck is this bitch that says you’re bad at this?” He shakes his head, digging deeper into your pussy.

Smiling cockily, you look over at Yeonjun, trying to control his breathing. He can’t help it—the two of you are just too hot together. He's never been able to enjoy this kind of view before. Seeing how every part of your body reacts to being touched—it's an incredible view.

“Please tell me he’s allowed to make me cum, baby,” You beg.

“Of course,” he chuckles smugly. “If he can.” Kai’s eating you out like he’s absolutely starving. And it’s true—he can’t help it. You taste too fucking good.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you start squeaking, throwing your head back.

“Okay, that sound means she’s gonna cum soon. Try to bring her as close to the edge as possible and then stop.”

“Fuck, Kai,” you breathe. “Right there—yes.” You can’t believe how good he is at this, especially given the reason you're under his tongue right now. He’s supposed to be bad at this, right?

You’re so fucking close and he can feel it. “Don’t stop—” he brings you right there. And then he does it. He stops. “Agh, fuck you,” you groan. Looking down at him, his smirking at you, eyes flashing between you and Yeonjun.

He doesn’t waste too much time before getting back to your pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit.

“Take it away from her for a bit. Lick her nipples again.” He does just that. You’re aching, bucking your hips over and over, desperately trying to relieve some kind of tension. But his tongue does feel amazing on your tits. Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it hard. He groans, his mouth dropping open like you just unlocked a new kink of his.

Now he can’t take it anymore. Hips jutting forward, you feel the roughness of his sweatpants drag against your center, relieving some of that tension. You gasp, resorting to begging him to get back to licking you.

“No, don’t,” Yeonjun says sternly.

“But I want to,” Kai whines back, looking at your pussy hungrily, sticking the tip of his tongue out, giving his best begging eyes. But Yeonjun just shakes his head, satisfied with watching you uncontrollably rolling your hips up toward Kai’s mouth. Kai compromises, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs to yank you closer to him and presses his lips to the skin right around your clit, teasing you even more.

“Babe—” you breathe, begging Yeonjun with your eyes to let him continue licking you.

“I know, baby, I know…” he responds, his voice low and rough. He finally lets him lick you again. But he doesn’t show much mercy. He repeats the same tactic over and over—having him bring you right to the edge, even to the point of tears, then he stops right in his tracks.

"I'm gonna tell you to stop, but I want you to keep going, okay?" Kai nods, agreeing to his instructions. Bringing you to the edge again, you're begging for mercy, begging to cum. "Don't let her cum, Kai," he says, making tears form in your eyes. "Stop—"

And he does.

"I told you to let her cum that time."

"Sorry," he smiles up at him, licking his lips. "It's so fun to see her beg like that though." Tilting his head toward you, he says, "Look at her...she's got tears in her eyes. Isn't that the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen?"

"It's okay, baby," he says, fingers flowing through your hair while Kai's mouth finds your clit again. You're moaning, gasping for air, swearing, screaming, anything to try to find a release. "Not yet. Don't let her fucking cum, Kai." You don't think you can handle this much longer. Edging is nice, yes, but this? This is bordering torture.

"Please, please, please, Jjun..." you trail off. "Just please let me cum. I can't take it anymore."

"I know you can take it, baby. Fucking taking it so well..."

It's building again. That knot in your stomach that gets tighter and tighter with every second. That white hot fire in the pit of your stomach waiting to explode.

"Don't stop, Kai," you blurt. "I'm gonna cum—" Slamming your palm over your mouth—you shouldn't have said that. He's gonna make you regret saying that.

"Don't let her cum," he orders.

But his grip gets tighter. His tongue licks furiouser. His face digs deeper. You're so fucking close. Closer than you've ever been tonight.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kai..." your orgasms crashes over you like a bolt of lightning. "Yes, fuck yes, that feels so fucking good." You feel like you're having an out of body experience. It's one of the best fucking orgasms of your life. "Don't stop, right there." You chest heaves with heavy breaths.

Coming down from one of the best orgasms of your life, your vision clears up and all you keep thinking is how much Yeonjun's gonna make you pay for this. You came without his permission—what's he gonna do now? Everything flashes across your mind: not letting you cum for a week, spanking you until your ass had his hand print on it, tying you up for hours, you're not sure.

But he doesn't do any of that. His hand caresses your cheek as he smiles down at you, "Did that feel good, baby?"

Confused, you nod, "Mhmm." You're still nervous, looking around at everyone's reactions. Kai's smirking while he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bad at eating pussy my ass," you say, shoving his shoulder with your foot.

"Ah, I knew you a had a little crush on him...I've seen how you look at him." Your face turns beet red. He's noticed that? Oh god... "I just wanted to do something nice for my baby."

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vettelsvee · 4 months ago

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GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 1: I'LL SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

rb sebastian vettel x gf!reader

word count: 4095

summary: seb's gf finds out she's pregnant, and she decides that hiding her pregnancy is the best she could do due to seb's career

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of cheating, curse words, angst, fighting. set on may 2013. for a bit of background: reader and seb have been friends since they were literal babies, but growing up their feelings changed and started dating on 2006.

a/n: this is actually the first chapter of the very first series, Infinity, i posted here! i had to cancel it because i had some problems with wattpad people telling me through indirects i copied their work and i got very, very unmotivated with this story i absolutely love (when actually this was a draft I had of a tom holland fic back in 2017 lol), but i'd love to post the following parts if you like this one! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

You pulled the flush and got up, being careful not to get dizzy. You took some paper and wiped the corners of your mouth to remove any possible traces of vomit. You headed to the sink automatically, quickly pulling out the toothbrush you’ve gotten used to carrying since nausea became part of your daily routine. You really tried to get rid of the acidity in your throat and the bad taste in your mouth, but as you expected, and knowing you've been experiencing this more times than you'd like in the past month and a half, it was impossible.

"Y/N, are you still there? Are you okay?" Britta's voice, accompanied by a few knocks on the door, snapped you out of your trance. You startled and forced yourself to answer, even though it was the last thing you feel like doing.

"Yes, I’m coming. Just a sec!"

"Don’t take too long," she replied. "Not that I don’t want you to take your time, but Seb is worried."

Panic-stricken, you suppressed a laugh that almost escaped.

If only he knew what you were about to do…

"Don’t worry, I’ll be right out," you answered.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating your own reflection longer than you’d like. Minutes passed, and you almost completely lost track of time, aware that you needed to put an end to the intrusive thought that was telling you that what you were about to do was, wrong but inevitably the best thing.

You were going to break away from everything you’ve wanted since you were a child just because things hadn't turned out "right." Seb was at the peak of his professional career, constantly surpassing himself in every race, making history, while you remained stuck in your hometown, working at a bar, dealing with drunks and immature kids pretending to be adults daily, because you didn’t have the luck, or perhaps the financial means, to study what you had dreamed of since you were a child who just wanted to make music.

You leaned on the sink, feeling the cold starting to penetrate your body. A great tremor shook you, and it became increasingly difficult to stay on your feet. Your eyes filled with tears as you confronted the reality of what you were about to do, of the decision you'd made.

Since your boyfriend began not only achieving his dreams but making a name for himself, you thought you didn’t deserve him because you were heading in the opposite direction. Now that you’ve gotten pregnant by him, possibly because the birth control pills you were taking failed for some unknown reason, you felt like this even more.

Despite the love you still felt and possibly always will feel for Sebastian, since you took the pregnancy test with Hanna at one of the most secluded malls in Heppenheim, you knew that letting him know he was going to be a father was never part of your plans.

"Come on, Y/N…" you told yourself, still staring at your reflection. "This is for Seb. You're doing this for him and his career."

You took a deep breath a couple more times, feeling the knot in your throat choking you. You looked at the girl full of insecurities you were one more time. Her eyes reflected doubt and, above all, fear, and you sadly sensed that it will continue to be this way from now on.

Trying to control yourself, you slowly opened the bathroom door, as if wanting to torture yourself. Britta was sitting in one of the chairs, reviewing something in a notebook until you closed the door a bit harder than you meant to.

"Are you really okay?" she asked again, giving you an uncertain look. "I've been hearing you vomit for several weeks now. Don’t you think you should go to the doctor?"

The knot in your throat seemed to tighten even more. See a doctor… Of course you’d been to the doctor! Four weeks and, as of today, four days pregnant was the answer, but no one beyond your parents and your best friend could know.

"Yes, I’m fine," you replied quickly, trying to fake your answer as best as you could. "Don’t worry. It’s probably just a bit of stress," you added, praying she believed you. "I haven't had time to see a doctor, but I assure you, with all my heart, that everything is fine."

And that's why you're leaving the love of your life today.

Britta seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her lips remained slightly open, as if she wanted to say something. Her look gave you the feeling that she didn't quite believe what you were saying.

"Whatever you say, Y/N," she finally said, standing up from her seat. "But seriously, if you need to talk or anything, I’m here for you."

"I know."

"Well, seeing that you're as calm as a lake, we’d better hurry up," she told you. "The last free practice session is about to start, and Seb is probably worried why we haven’t come back yet."

You prepared to leave the room with her. You were more than sure to go with her, but as you were almost out the room, you realize it was now or never.

You stopped before going from the driver’s room to the garage, watching Britta hurry down the stairs, probably aware that you were running late even though there were still about forty-five minutes before the session started.

"Wait, Britta. Just a sec!"

You were convinced your shout from the top of the stairs was heard by more people than you’d like. You wished you could turn invisible as you saw some eyes on you, including Britta’s, which made it hard to speak, and not to mention the variety of emotions you were feeling inside you.

You needed to calm down and act a bit better, or everything you’d been mulling over will end up falling apart.

"I’d like to talk to Seb… alone," you finally said.

"Y/N Y/L/N," she said your name much more seriously now. "You’ve told me that everything is fine, but… are you sure it really is? Are you sure nothing’s wrong?"

No, everything is wrong, and yes, more things are happening than I’d like.

You knew you could trust Britta completely. You were sure that if you told her the news before you did to Seb, she wouldn’t say anything, at least not right away. You wanted to do it; in fact, you’d love to do it because she was like a second mother to you, but you knew you couldn't because, once you left, there’s a really high chance she might end up telling him everything in a moment of weakness.

"Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious, don’t worry," you replied with a sigh, trying to console the PR woman and yourself. "I just need to talk to him about… well, a minor issue."

"Of course. Go get him, I’ll wait here. He’s probably talking to Rocky or Horner about who knows what. He hasn’t gone far, especially considering how eager he was to see you."

"Can you get him for me?" you let it out casually.

You ignored her last comment because now, your nerves were eating you alive. Britta seemed to notice your anxiety, so you were grateful she ignored it and acted as if nothing is wrong.

You sighed in relief when you saw her nod, and you couldn't stop thanking her out loud for what she just did for you.

"Lie down on the physio’s couch and try to rest a bit, you look a bit pale," she insisted. Reluctantly, and after repeating it a couple more times, you finally listened to her. "Seb will be here soon. You know he’ll drop everything when it comes to you."

And it was true. Once she left, you remained lying down, drawing small shapes on your stomach with your index finger. As you whispered things to what would supposedly be your child, a whirlwind of varied thoughts flooded your mind.

A small pressure settled in your chest as you became aware that the idea of breaking up with Sebastian was becoming a reality. You didn't want to face it and largely refused to, but you knew that for both of you, especially him, it was actually the best.

Hiding the truth from the guy you’d loved longer than you’d like to admit is exactly the opposite of what you should do, but because he was the most important person in your life, and you knew him almost as well as yourself, you knew he'd have time to play moms and dads in real life.

This year, the only thing he should focus on was winning his fourth Formula 1 World Championship, not learning how to change diapers or feed a baby.

Your thoughts vanished when the door opened abruptly, startling you. Seb appeared with his suit hanging at his waist, hair completely tousled, and a face revealing worry matching the situation you haven’t told him about yet.

"Sunshine! Britta told me you’re not well. What happened? Do you want to go to the doctor? I don’t care about missing the free practice: you’re the most important thing."

The German quickly took your cheeks in his hands. You hadn’t even sat up, and he was already trying to warm your face with his palms, moving it from side to side and examining you as if he was a doctor with the solution to your problems.

"I’m fine, love, relax," you said, breaking free from his grip.

"I know you better than I’d like, Y/N. You’re pale," he pointed out. "You rarely get pale. The last time I saw you like this was when the police chased us after they caught you doing an illegal concert in the school square."

Your anxiety grew more at his perception. You couldn't hide the lie you concocted with Hanna for much longer.

"Seb, really, I’m fine," you insisted, swallowing hard as you tried to find the right words.

He didn't seem to agree with your answer once again, and he didn't seem willing to let it go easily.

For a moment, you were tempted to tell him the truth, especially when you noticed his eyes fixed on you, not intending to look away until he found out what you really wanted to say… As if he wants to know that he was going to be a father next January if your gynecologist’s calculations and the latest technology were correct.

You mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. His concern overwhelmed you completely. When he made a move to hug you and you fell into his arms, you knew you couldn't keep dodging the truth.

"Seb…" you started to say, slowly pulling away from him, "the truth is that... well, there's something wrong."

He clenched his jaw and got very serious.

"Tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

"I know, love. I want to tell you everything, but…" you began calmly, your voice breaking. "This is different, and it’s going to be a bit difficult."

"What do you mean by different and difficult? Y/N, what’s going on?"

Your hands fidgeted nervously as you tried to find the best way to cause him the least harm possible. You noticed that the German's nervous and worried tone had dissipated, and now it was anger that seemed to be consuming him.

"I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting you," you admitted in a whisper.

There it was, you had let it slip.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you decided to wait for Sebastian’s response. Anguish had taken hold of him, and you knew he was waiting for your words as much as you were waiting for his.

His behavior wasn’t helping you; on the contrary, the feeling of guilt was consuming you, as you had foreseen, but there was no turning back now.

It was impossible for you to even think coherently enough to say something that made sense.

You watched as your boyfriend’s gaze turned into pure pain, a pleading search for answers that you didn’t dare to give him.

"Seb…" you spoke again, struggling to maintain your composure and reaching for his hand at the same time. "I need you to listen to me, please."

"I just want you to tell me the truth, Y/N," he called you by your full name. That was the indicator that things weren’t going well and wouldn’t be again. "Whatever it is, I’ll be able to deal with it."

"I don’t want us to be together anymore," you declared. "I’m not in love with you anymore. I haven’t been for about a month or so."

The silence that flooded the room after your false confession was too uncomfortable. His eyes filled with tears; yours did too, but for a different reason than his.

He thought you had stopped loving him when, in fact, you loved him more than ever, especially now.

"Why are you telling me this? Why, Y/N?" he wanted to know. "I thought we were great… I really believed we were better than ever."

"I don’t know, Seb," you murmured between sobs, trying to hide your face so he wouldn’t see how truly affected you were. "There are… there are couples that stop loving each other, and that’s what I think has happened with me. With us."

"What can I do to make you fall in love with me again? I can’t lose you. I can’t lose the sunshine of my life, not when we promised each other a life together."

"You can’t do anything, Seb, and I’m really sorry," you falsely admitted with sadness, trying not to succumb to his desperate plea.

"Sometimes things stop being what they were in the beginning, and, well… ours is no longer what it used to be."

"Of course, it’s not what it used to be! Everything was getting better until you decided to drop this on me, Y/N!" Sebastian yelled at you.

"I was even going to ask you if you wanted us to get…"

"And that’s why I feel it’s better if we move on, but each on our own path!" you interrupted with another shout.

It’s not real, Y/N. Everything you’re saying is a lie.

You inhaled and exhaled more times than you would have liked, but it felt necessary. This charade to try to make Seb’s life a little better was not only costing you your relationship but also your mental health in the long run.

"Is there someone else, Y/N?"

Vettel's voice denoted anger. Rage consumed him at the possibility that there was an answer he didn’t want to hear. His fists, clenched tightly and turning his knuckles white, were proof of it.

"No, not exactly."

And once again, the camouflaged truth.

"What are you saying?" he spat at you, getting closer and closer, consumed by anguish.

"I mean not exactly, but… yes. There is someone else, Seb," you admitted.

The shouts, full of reproaches, insults, and slurs, flooded the room.

You tried to turn a deaf ear. You thought this was all part of a performance and tried to convince yourself that in the future, everything would be fine when you knew it would be the opposite.

"How could you do this to me, Y/N?! How could you cheat on me after almost seven fucking years together?!" Sebastian shouted, taking out his anger on a vase on his desk, throwing it to the ground, spilling the water and the flowers he had given you just a day ago.

"We’ve been through so many things together. We’ve grown up together and fulfilled our dreams together, and now you’re leaving me for some guy you must have slept with on a whim?!"

"Do you think this is easy for me, Sebastian?" you replied, your words true for once. "Stop lying, okay? The only person who has fulfilled their dreams here is you," you said, showing your disagreement on that topic that you knew hurt you and that he had mentioned to hurt you. "While you’ve been living your life as a driver and being the center of attention, I’ve kept working in the same disgusting bar full of creepy old men I’ve been working at since I finished high school," you shouted, furious. You knew this kind of stress wasn’t good for the baby, but right now you didn’t care. "I’ve been saving as much as I could to build a prosperous future even though my salary was a pittance, composing songs and singing them with the hope that they’ll reach someone someday and not be forgotten."

"I’ve told you a million times that you don’t need to work in that fucking bar full of drunk old men who fuck you with their eyes to have a good life," he protested, now much calmer. "With what they pay me we can live comfortably. It's more than enough for both of us."

"I know," you responded calmly, though you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, "but I also know that I can achieve things on my own without anyone’s help."

The blonde let out an ironic laugh. Immediately, he crossed his arms, lifted his head, and looked at you.

"You’ve always been too stubborn, Y/N. Now I see what your future expectations are. After all, I understand: if you never got into the Berlin Art Academy on your own, and you’re still working at the same place after so long…"

You stood still, not knowing what to say or do because you knew exactly what he meant with every word that came out of his mouth. It felt like your feet were cemented to the ground; his words continuously hitting you, wanting to hurt you more and more.

"How dare you to say that to me?"

If you were already shaken and almost broken after this whole conversation, now you were completely sunk. Seeing your reaction, tears streaming down your cheeks non-stop, he seemed to regret it.

Quickly, he approached you, opening his arms intending for you to bury yourself in them. You, as stubborn as he said you were, refused not only the hug but any physical and non-physical contact he wanted to have with you.

"Y/N, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to say that," yes, that was clear, but it had already been said, and the damage was done. "I was wrong. Please forgive me."

No matter how much he kept talking, trying to apologize and make amends, there was nothing else to do.

Without saying anything else, you began to gather all your belongings from the driver’s room of who could now be considered your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t want to do it; you didn’t want to start the zero-contact phase with the boy you had loved since you were ten years old, the one who had loved you like no one ever had before and like no one ever would.

You were saying goodbye to the father of your child to venture into raising her alone so he could pursue his dream in peace and achieve all the successes he so longed for.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“Packing. I’m leaving.”

Your eyes were fixed on the floor, your hands fumbling with the few belongings left to pack in the small backpack you usually took to the paddock. Now, you would have to return to your hotel room and quickly pack everything into the suitcase, rush to the airport, and pray you didn’t miss the flight.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” the blonde frowned, incredulous. “It’s Friday, Y/N, we have the whole weekend ahead of us.”

“Well, from now on, you’ll have all the weekends to yourself,” you shook your head, unable to bear his comments trying to make you stay. “From now on, you won’t have me here on weekends, nor in your life. I’m leaving your life, and I’m not coming back,” you repeated, emphasizing the finality of your words.

Vettel was speechless at your declaration. He kept shaking his head, approaching you, trying to take your belongings, but you stopped him.

No matter how much you wanted to, you weren’t going to stay.

“What do you mean by ‘leaving my life and not coming back’?”

“It means I’m going back to Heppenheim, Sebastian,” you turned to him, trying to maintain composure. “I’m going back, you’ll also end up going back even though we live… you live in Switzerland,” you immediately corrected yourself, “but I hope we never see each other again.”

The firmness behind your words scared you. Everything was a lie that, as the conversation progressed, had grown until you doubted what was real and what wasn’t.

“I really hope you achieve everything you are working hard for,” you continued, insisting to yourself not to break down right there. “I hope you win the championship this year and get the four consecutive ones you’ve wanted for. You, more than anyone, deserve all of it, and I know you’re capable of that and much more.”

You said nothing more because you had stopped being strong. You left, without looking back, the room where you had spent much more time than imaginable, and one of the many places that made up the story starring Sebastian Vettel and you.

You carefully descended the stairs. You walked with a false sense of security through the RedBull garage, dodging any questions about why you were crying, where you were going, and if you had argued with the team’s golden boy, including the endless questions from Britta Roeske that you were trying to ignore at all costs.

You felt curious eyes following you wherever you went, but you didn’t care in the slightest. It was all done.

Now, it was just you and the little pea, or whatever size the baby was.

“Y/N, wait!”

Sebastian’s desperate shouts echoed behind you, getting closer.

You stopped dead, clutching the only strap of the backpack hanging over your shoulder. You slowly turned toward the direction the voices seemed to be coming from and saw the driver running to you, almost choking, as he wiped tears from his cheeks and even those still falling from his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His voice was choked, and his hands acted on their own. Still, it didn’t stop him from taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, where you tasted each other’s tears as you had done many times in your relationship. Where you silently said millions of I love yous that only you and he knew perfectly.

“Please, don’t go, sunshine,” the German expressed. “Whatever it is, we can work on it, but please, don’t let us end.”

“I love you too, Seb, but there’s someone else.”

You finally confessed… not in the most ideal way, but in the right one, especially considering what your goal was after all this trail of lies.

“There’s a new person in my life, and I’m afraid to say that no matter how much I love you, I love them more than I love you, and I always will,” you continued, knowing that every word you were saying about your baby was true. “I love you, Sebastian Vettel, and I’ll never stop loving you, but that person is my main priority right now.”

“Have you been unfaithful?”

Sometimes silence is worth more than a thousand words. In this case, it was the exact opposite.

You stood in front of him for a few seconds, debating internally whether to answer or leave as calmly as possible, without attracting more attention than you already had. You decided on the latter because you couldn’t speak, and the tears wouldn’t let you see clearly; not to mention your judgment was so clouded that you couldn’t think clearly about the next step to end this nightmare.

You finally directed one last look at Seb; whispered that you loved him and always would, even though it was over between you.

All it took was for you to lower your head, turn around, and continue walking, fighting not to look back, to realize that you had made the biggest mistake of your life and would never, for anything in the world, be able to forgive yourself.

And you knew perfectly well that Seb wouldn’t either.

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atrologynuances · 5 months ago

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Astrology observations pt2 || Planets in their detriment

NOTE: the interpretation of these are solely on the planets. harmonious/inharmonious aspects can change the translation of these planets.

these are based on personal observations as well as acquired knowledge from books, websites, and other observation posts.

𓋼𓍊 Aries/Scorpio Venus- may struggle maintaining a harmonious relationship which can lead to them changing their relationships quite often. aries venuses might posses an either fiery or more grounded energy thanks to the cardinal energy. scorpios on the other hand might be emotionally reserved, and only truly love very few people around them if any, the rest they keep around depending on what they can access from them (very manipulative). Given their possible relationship insecurities these two venus signs will seek for someone going at the same pace and someone with the same mindset, which realistically is hard to find. when they do think they’ve found it, they might later find out they were in fact wrong. When they do get in a relationship they might become possessive as a result of possible insecurities.

𓋼𓍊 Taurus/Libra Mars- these natives might need extreme motivation to get things going, like a 9-5 they don’t like, but the security and responsibility of it keeps them on their toes. these mars signs could also lack sense of security in their actions, which could leave them wondering whether they were right or wrong and as a result they might not fight for themselves as hard as they should. it is important for them to have a big support system that reassures and validates their actions when conflicts arise.

𓋼𓍊 Gemini/Virgo Jupiter- these natives have a hard time seeing beyond logic explanation, they could experience something and until they don’t find logic behind it they won’t be satisfied. get fixated on many things but never seems to finish or find a final answer to any of them. is not that they’re unable to finish them, they’re just no longer interested to. closed minded towards otherworldly subjects, or tries very hard to understand it.

𓋼𓍊 Cancer/Leo Saturn- these natives lack discipline but want it. they might vent to you that they do not like their current monetary situation and are looking to make some changes in that aspect of their life, but the next day you see them spending all their money on clothes. they know this is wrong but will still do it. they may be prone to control people and situations because they think they know what’s best for everyone. however, they do not like people telling them what to do lol. they might be prone to burnouts easily and immune system problems.

𓋼𓍊 Sagittarius/Pisces Mercury- struggles to find something that feels “right” for them, when they do find it they mostly have to work harder than everybody else to catch up. problems with communication; either started talking late or have problems expressing themselves as they get older. prone to saying things that don’t make sense upfront which will make them have to explain themselves often. this might create insecurities that will lead them to express themselves less. this is the reason why I think so many great writers have these placements, they can just erase and reword their writing without being judged for it.

- fyodor dostoevsky, jane austen, james joyce, victor hugo, emily dickinson

𓋼𓍊 Capricorn Moon- find it difficult to be vulnerable, this translates to needing or wanting material security to make sure they won’t need anyone. do not like to rely on anyone for emotional/financial support even if they really need it. despite all this, they are very emotional. the difference between them and their sister sign cancer is that they are not expressive with their emotions or act on them. something I have noticed is that they are not as workaholics as people might expect them to be, however when they work, they splurge on the money they make or might be stingy with it, as either one of these actions brings security to them. most of the times they don’t feel loved by either one of their parents even if they’ve both always been present in their lives.

𓋼𓍊 Aquarius Sun- natives are hard to describe for me because I have not met many of them, I feel like most hideaway at home lol. one thing i’ve noticed is that they cry a lot and are unapologetic about it. these people shine bright like their sister sign leo, the difference is they don’t want to so they avoid situations where they have to or when they are put in these situations they have to make sure their presentation is flawless. however in day to day life they do not really care how they’re perceived. they’re the ones that go to school in pijama pants. they also oftentimes seek some form of validation with other people, which is why they change partners often. very physically beautiful, but doesn’t seem to know or act on it.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope y’all have a wonderful day.

guide

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nurse-floyd · 6 months ago

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Broken Promises

Anon request: "Max x Leclerc reader . In which its readers bday and it’s her bday party and charles doesn’t show up for the 3rd year after like promising he would for sure show up and she doesn’t like even want a bday anymore. I swear i don’t hate charles LOL."

Summary: It’s your birthday, and once again, your brother Charles has fails to show up despite his promise.

Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader

Warnings: none. Poor use of Google Translate for language.

You’d planned everything perfectly and exactly how you’d wanted. The decorations were perfect, and you had streamers, balloons, and fairy lights hung around your spacious living room. Max had helped, getting caterers in and the best birthday cake you could ask for.

However, your excitement quickly turned to disappointment as your phone lit up with a text from your older brother, Charles.

Charlie: Sœurette… I’m sorry, I cannot make the party. I promise I’ll make it up to you.

You threw the phone down angrily on the counter, not caring if the screen was broken or not. You cursed a few words in French as you let out your frustration.

“Tête de bite! Stupide imbécile!” you screamed.

Max came running as he heard the loud bang followed by your shouting.

“He promised, Max! He said he’d be here. He missed my last two fucking birthdays!”

Max stood there, letting you let out your anger but also feeling his own anger bubbling inside. Charles had promised; he was there when you were excitedly bouncing as you told Charles about the music, the decorations, and the food—how excited you were to celebrate with your whole family again when no one had races or interviews or promotions to film.

“I know, schatje… I’m sorry,” he comforted as he pulled you into his arms. He knew how excited you’d been and how much it meant for all your older brothers to be there.

You pulled away and wiped your tears as you tried to put on a brave face, tried to push through your emotions and finish setting up the place for your guests. Arthur and Lorenzo were still coming, and you just wanted Charles to be there for once. He’d missed the last two years, and he’d promised he’d be there this time.

As your guests arrived, you kissed their cheeks, hugged them, and took pictures, but your heart just wasn’t in it. The party was in full swing with music, food, and enjoyment, but you felt like an outsider in your own house. You watched as everyone else danced, laughed, and had fun, but you just couldn’t feel that joy yourself. You knew it was stupid, but you sat in the corner and watched the door, hoping it was just a joke your brothers were playing on you, hoping with everything that he’d walk through the door with that goofy smile and pull you into one of his hugs that you loved so much. But the door stayed closed, and your brother never came.

Max mingled with your guests and his friends, but he saw the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, how withdrawn you were, and how you kept checking your phone for any updates from your brother. He came to your side and took the seat next to yours, putting his arm around you as he pulled you into his side. “Are you okay?”

You sighed, determined not to let the tears that had been threatening to spill over fall. “I just don’t get it, Max. Why does he keep making promises he can’t keep? He hasn’t come to my last three birthdays now. Do I not matter to him?”

Max’s grip tightened around you. “I’m sorry, liefde. I know it hurts, but your birthday does matter, and so do you. You matter to me and to all the people here tonight.”

You buried your face in his shoulder as the tears you’d tried to keep in all night started to fall. “I don’t even want a birthday anymore. It hurts too much.”

Max gently shifted, lifting your chin slightly so he could look at you. “Don’t say that. Today is your day, and I’m going to make it special. Your brother might not be here, but I am, and so are your friends. Let’s not let him ruin another birthday, hmm?”

You nodded, knowing he was right and so grateful for the support. You sniffed and wiped away your tears. “Okay… but I don’t feel like being around everyone right now. Can we go for a walk? Get some fresh air?”

Max smiled and got up, holding his hand out for you. “Sure. Let’s go.”

You sent a text to Arthur to come up with an excuse in case anyone noticed you and Max were gone before you both managed to quietly slip out of the house. The cool air of the evening was a welcome relief from the crowded apartment. You and Max walked in a comforting silence, your hand in his as the lights of the city twinkled around you.

Max led you to a little bench on the beachfront and sat down, gesturing for you to join him. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close once more. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the moment with you and him alone.

“You know, I hated my birthday too when I was younger. There was so much pressure to make it the perfect day, and it never was, and my dad wasn’t exactly parent of the year when it came to birthdays; he missed more than I can count.”

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that, Max,” you leaned in closer to him.

“Now I’m older, all that matters is I get to celebrate another year of life and I’ve got you by my side.”

“You’re right. It’s just hard when someone you love lets you down.”

“I know,” Max replied as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “but you’re not alone. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere; no more broken promises.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Max, for everything. Sorry I ruined the party.”

“Shut up,” he grinned playfully. “You’ve not ruined anything. Besides, you saved me from your brothers. Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your present yet.”

You leaned away from him, your curiosity piqued. “What present?”

He reached into the pocket of the Red Bull jacket he’d thrown on before he left and pulled out a sleek black box, beautifully wrapped with a silver bow. “Happy birthday, schat.”

You took the box and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a rose gold necklace with four pendants, each with a letter on it: an M, J, S, and your initial.

“Now you can always carry us with you. You’ll always have me, Jimmy, and Sassy, and there’s room to add more,” he explained.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” you whispered, your voice laced with emotion.

You turned around and let him fasten it around your neck before turning back and leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you, love, for making today special despite everything.”

“Anything for you, schatje. Happy birthday.”

Although you knew you couldn’t get over your disappointment with Charles that easily, sitting there with Max, you knew that it didn’t matter who wasn’t there but who was, and with Max by your side, you’d be okay.

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gaywarcriminals · 7 months ago

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Remember that time Xiao Jiu wanted to beat a kid with a brick?

The scene where Shen Jiu threatens Shi Wu is possibly my favorite scene in the whole novel because it tells us so much about qijiu's dynamic, both past and future, and namely, that they're both little freaks (affectionate) who show love in weird ways. I think it particularly exemplifies several of Yue Qingyuan's traits that often go overlooked!

I am just going in order. All excerpts are from the Seven Seas official translation, Volume 4, Chapter 24: Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Jiu fights for resources

“Shen Jiu, don’t think you can just throw your weight around. You don’t own this street. What gives you the right to tell us we can’t stay?!” This main street was wide and even, and many people came and went upon it. If one wanted to beg, it was the best and prime location. Some of the passersby watched this group of children fight, but even more hurried on their way. And this new brat had the gall to challenge him. Shen Jiu looked down and around, preparing to find a brick with which to teach him a lesson, when a tall youth happened to walk over. He saw Shen Jiu rolling up his sleeves, head lowered, and hastily went to stop him. “Xiao-Jiu, let’s go somewhere else.” [...] With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot!

From this we know that Shen Jiu, without fail, tries to claim or fight for the best begging spots in every city. This isn't fully textually supported, but add to that the later section that mentions how Shen Jiu was far better at begging than Yue Qi and I think that, on some level, SJ feels responsible for both his and Yue Qi's wellbeing. Chasing off the other children is not just a selfish act, but also a protective one.

According to the orders given to them, Yue Qi should have wailed and wept, but no matter what, he never could manage to cry. Therefore, this task had instead fallen to Shen Jiu, even though he was faking an illness that supposedly left him too feeble to weep. But he was small and his face wasn’t too unsightly to look at, so whenever he sobbed and bawled, the passersby found him pitiful and generously opened their wallets. It would have been no exaggeration to call him a money tree.

Xiao Jiu fancies himself the breadwinner lol.

How Yue Qi reacts to accusations against Shen Jiu

That first youth took the opportunity to tattle. “Qi-ge, he’s bullying me.” “That wasn’t bullying, Shiwu,” said Yue Qi. “Xiao-Jiu was just joking around.” “Who’s joking?” said Shen Jiu. “I’m telling him to get lost. This is my territory. I’ll kill anyone who tries to steal it.”

I've anyways found this passage so telling of their eventual adult relationship! First of all, Yue Qi implicitly takes Shen Jiu's side, and immediately defends him. This seems to be taken for granted by all characters, so we can assume this is their standard dyanmic. Yue Qi, notably, does not deny that Shen Jiu was threatening Shiwu. In this situation where SJ is actively gearing up for a fight, it would be a very poor defense, and that's probably true of most messes Xiao Jiu got himself into!

Most of Yue Qi's actions in the scene are attempts to de-escalate. This is just my theory, but I think in Yue Qi's mind, who's at fault is much less important than making sure no one gets in trouble with a higher authority. Even if he knows SJ could win the fight, it would only gain SJ more animosity, and possibly the attention of someone who would be a real danger.

I think it's evident how Yue Qi's ethos of keeping their heads down and not causing trouble or drawing too much attention would feed into how he handled Shen Qingqiu's less commendable behavior as an adult and complaints against Shen Qingqiu.

In the brothel scene later in the extras, we can see that he's conscious of their image.

Yue Qingyuan yanked Shen Qingqiu off the bed. He was in a rare fit of anger. “Why are you like this?” “Why am I like what?” asked Shen Qingqiu. “Two of Cang Qiong Mountain’s head disciples getting into a huge brawl inside a brothel—does that sound good to you?”

Imo, now entrenched in the politics of the cultivation world, YQY sees protecting SQQ's image/reputation as an important part of protecting SQQ. Yue Qi spent his childhood managing Xiao Jiu, and as an adult, he's not able to so easily break the habit, not matter how SQQ scorns him

Shen Jiu does not get upset by attacks on his character, only from Shiwu calling Yue Qi "Qi-ge"

With Yue Qi standing in front of him, Shiwu grew bold. He leaned forward and yelled, “Every time we go to a new place,you always hog the best spot! Everyone’s been sick of you for ages! You think you’re all that? That everyone’s afraid of you?” “Shiwu,” Yue Qi scolded. Amidst the struggle, Shen Jiu kicked Yue Qi in the shin. “If you want a fight, I’ll give you one. Only losers would blame their spot for their incompetence. You bastard—who’s your Qi-ge? I dare you to say that again!”

Now granted these aren't the most cutting insults, but it's SO interesting to me that Shen Jiu doesn't react to the insults directly. To me, this is a little bit of evidence that, even at this age, Shen Jiu had already decided he was a bad guy, and stopped caring about what others thought of him. The glaring exception to that was, ofc, Yue Qi. I think part of the reason that SJ reactions to the "Qi-ge" specifically, is that Shiwu just said that no one likes Shen Jiu, and then tried to align himself with Yue Qi. I think to SJ, he sees a real threat in the idea of someone else stealing Yue Qi, the one person who likes SJ. SJ is so possessive of Yue Qi not just because he's Qi-ge, but also because, without him, Shen Jiu would have nothing and no one.

Yue Qi tries to deescalate by coaxing/appeasing Shen Jiu

“You’re the bastard! I bet you’ll get sold off soon and end up a pimp!” Yue Qi didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. “Where did you learn that kind of nonsense language?!” Then he dragged Shen Jiu off to the side of the road while coaxing him. “All right, you’re the most competent one here. Even if you didn’t pick and choose your spot, you’d be the best. So let’s change streets.” Shen Jiu stepped on his foot. “Get off me! Like I’m scared! Come on, fight me! Wanna gang up on me? Go ahead!” Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.” “What shitty ‘fun’?” Shen Jiu asked savagely. “The most fun I’ll have is if they’re all dead.” Yue Qi looked at him helplessly and shook his head.

Yue Qi only barely scolds Shen Jiu, even when Shen Jiu in the wrong (tried to steal Shiwu's spot and then almost beat up Shiwu). Instead, his reaction is to distract, coax, bribe, and praise him until SJ looses interest in whatever trouble he was going to cause. Yue Qi is so biased, and he spoils him 😂. Even when Yue Qi has so little he can give, he managed to spoil Shen Jiu by giving him so much favor, attention, and affection.

I think this is something that comes naturally to Yue Qi to the point that he can't help himself from doing the same thing as an adult, even when SJ scorns him. It's just the correct response to seeing a Xiao Jiu! He's the "why do we have hands" meme fr

Yue Qi smiles imagining Shen Jiu beating up the other kids

Of course Yue Qi knew he wasn’t scared. If he really let Shen Jiu brawl with the other kids, he would fight dirty. He’d gouge at their eyes and kick them in the belly or crotch or shin. He was terribly vicious, and the other party would be the one to end up suffering and bawling in terror. Yue Qi forced down a smile. “Are you done stepping on my foot yet? If you are, stop it. Qi-ge will take you somewhere fun.”

I don't have much to say about this, I just want to remind everyone Yue Qi finds SJ's violent, feral tendencies adorable. This man has no desire to train his cat, and he will insist it's friendly even as it gnaws on his arm.

In Conclusion?

This single scene shows us the trajectory of qijiu's relationship going forward, the strengths of their relationships that became pitfalls. It allows to imagine what they could have become if not torn apart by a world set to doom them.

#svsss #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #qijiu #svsss meta #fish meta

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rosiemarieyn · 7 months ago

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Can't Take My Eyes Off You

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Can't take his eyes off you.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.6k

Note: Lol I wanted us to be besties. :P

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Working at a pub has to be one of the worst jobs for a woman your age. Having to deal with drunk middle-aged old men, getting hit on even though you try so hard to avoid them. You know? The stuff society made seem normal. They are not.

But lucky for you, you worked your night shifts with your best friend, Rosemary. She wasn't from around here so usually you had to translate what people ordered or they had to point it out at the menu.

"These men make me so…! UGHHHHH." you were preparing one of the many orders when Rosemary appeared right beside you and spoke in that silly accent she had. "This is how this job is, Rosie." Keeping in your laughter was the hardest thing you could work on while you stared at Rosemary and her defeated, almost pouting, expression.

Just as the moment you were about to lecture Rosie about her childish attitude, a group of men walked right in, not caring about anyone around. Of course, you knew who Peaky Blinders were, but unfortunately for Rosemary, she had no idea.

"Why are they short?" "You're just too tall Rosie." "Oh."

You gazed softly into the infamous Thomas Shelbys' eyes. His eyes were like ice: cold and relentless. They looked into your soul as if they could drown you. You tried to avoid his gaze by looking at the orders you had to prepare.

You noticed Rosemary tap your shoulder. "Hm? What's wrong Rosie??" you blurted out while pouring liquor into a tall glass. "He can't stop looking at you" You looked up from your little task, raising your eyebrow. "He looks at me?"

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“How does he look at me?”

“Like he never wants to look away.”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

taglist: @hiraethberry @1-fuzzy-squirrels

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

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Hiya!! I’m obsessed with your writing. You’re my favorite writer on here, I dream of your stories!

Would it be possible to request (either with Ghost or Price, I love them both equally) something like they were young love but he breaks up with reader cos he wants to keep her safe and thinks he knows what’s best for her. Then during a mission gone wrong, they need a safe house but somehow the enemy found out all the locations of their approved safe houses. He remembered her place is close by and tries his luck. Maybe she gets mad at him for making decisions for her or maybe he learns about her difficult past that happened without with. But with a happy ending? ☺️

Only if this inspires you! Thank you again for sharing your beautiful writings!

If You Bite My Hand Again

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: How dare he show his face to you after all of these years. How dare you still find it in yourself to love him.

WORDCOUNT: 6.6k

WARNINGS: Heavy angst, abandonment, arguments, mentions of death, blood, insinuations of torture & mental illness troubles, Simon's comic backstory, hurt/comfort, sort of suggestive?, anxiety attack, somewhat happy ending, etc.

A/N: This was really fun to write, lol, enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You never should have met him. In fact, it seemed like the universe had been adamant to make you not run into each other on that chilly October morning almost…well…it has to be more than thirteen years ago, now. So long.

As you head to your kitchen and glance at the clock, the hands point to a perfect three-fifteen—an hour of pitch-blackness and whispering winds that dash past the musty glass of the windows. The thump of your footsteps blocks out the heaving sigh that falls from your mouth; rubbing at your eyes like a cat as great bags sag from tired flesh.

The dreams weren’t uncommon.

Simon still reigned supreme in the conjuring of them, ingrained into the sinews and pulled thin by a hand constantly working them—knitting a sweater of memories addled with age. Moth-eaten.

As you snap on the light of your tiny and run-down kitchen, the bulb fizzing and the dishwasher still emitting that squeal as it always does, you think about him before grabbing a glass. Water hits and fills the thing up as your eyes blankly stare, fatigued but yet never more awake.

The tremors in your hands persist.

You never should have met him.

—

Your feet take you to Primary, laces a mess atop your little shoes caked in mud and grass—you’d chased after a butterfly through the front yards, getting caught in your neighbor's bushes and having to slip your way out before she could rampage outside with her broom.

It was no surprise that your face was lit with a bright smile, eyes shining like fire that your teachers had given you a special name for—“Ember.”

The very thing that could start a blaze over and over again as long as it still was alight.

Laughing and peeing out leaves from your hair; flattening out your uniform, you stride with pride ingrained into your body. Well, you did before you heard the soft sniffling coming from down the alley.

Halting, your ears perk at the sounds, smile freezing as you blink quickly. Looking to your left, you lock onto the hunched figure of a boy.

Perhaps only a year or two older than you, you stare in curiosity as he consciously paws at his cheeks, walking out of the alley in broken and odd strides. His uniform is ruffled, wrinkled, but not in the way yours was.

He must have fallen and hurt himself, you reason with a child-like frown pulling on your lips. Blinking at his blond hair, you get a glimpse of red-rimmed brown eyes.

The boy halts, looking at you widely, fear and pain emanating from his expression. You’re the first to speak, brightness still in your eyes but a deep innocence that comes with youth. All you saw was a boy your age in pain—that was strange to you. You knew what getting hurt was like; you fell and scraped your knees often, or hit your elbows on corners. Sometimes you would cry from that…did the same happen to this boy?

“You’re crying, aren’t you?” Brown-Eyes stares, hurriedly pushing at his face to wipe tears but only succeeds in making his face red from the material of his uniform. “Did you fall down? I do that pretty often—it’s okay, my Mum says you’ll be better after a hug and a kiss!”

You smile and stand straighter.

“I,” the boy begins, sniffling. “I didn’t fall. I’m not clumsy.”

You tilt your head, confused. “Well…then why are you crying?”

“That’s none of your business!” He snaps, brows pulled in as he comes forward on the sidewalk. Your face twists as you huff in annoyance.

“My Mum says to treat everyone nicely. That wasn’t very nice.”

“I don’t bloody care, do I,” you’re sent a scathing glance as he passes. “I didn’t ask for you to speak to me. Leave me alone.”

Naturally, you follow after, cheeks gaining heat.

“You’re being mean! Apologize!”

“Would you run off already?!” The boy shouts, and perhaps something fires in that small brain of yours—a thought and a semblance of self-realization at the shame that emits from his tone. A tight squeeze of vocal cords.

He was ashamed. Ashamed you’d caught him. Seen him.

Your feet slow back to a stop, watching him hurriedly continue on and hearing the quiet gasps of breath. After a moment, you grit your teeth and run the distance; seizing him around the middle in a hug of stubby fingers and tightly closed eyes.

The boy startles, body hardening and a cry escaping his lungs. “Get off of me!” He shouts, hands snapping down to yours and digging under your hold.

“No!” You call, stubbornly. “My Mum says that hugs make everything better—”

“Stop talking about your Mum!” The boy stomps his foot to the ground, chubby cheeks turning crimson as he tilts his head back to look at you, tears still dripping off his chin.

A stiff silence falls but like a green branch on a tree, Brown-Eyes’ form twitchingly loosens, his prying hands softening as you hold tight—digging your nose into his spine. He minutely flinches, but you only hug him more.

You’re both late to the building, and your teachers are going to give you scoldings. But right now, on a chilled October morning, you hug this strange, crying boy and blink your fiery eyes up at him.

After he relaxes fully and the sniffling stops, you let go and smile brightly again, looking up into his open expression of innocent confusion. Whatever had happened, he must have fallen pretty hard, you thought, pulling out another leaf from your hair. You giggle and hand it over as a gift.

The boy hesitantly picks it up and looks at it before turning back to you.

“Call me Ember.”

A pause. A hesitation. But your eyes shimmer and he relents with the memory of the hug in the front of his mind. Such a strange encounter.

He speaks, looking away from you with flushed cheeks, muttering out as his tear streaks dry.

“...Simon.”

You walk together the rest of the way.

The reality was, if you had gotten caught by your neighbor, had snatched that butterfly—had even stayed in those bushes for three more seconds, you would have missed him. And if Simon hadn’t run out of his home crying, he never would have locked onto the burning reality that was with you.

—

You put the glass to your chapped lips and take a long sip, throat bobbing as you take down the liquid with tears burning your eyes. Blinking rapidly, you swipe at the water at the sides of your mouth and shake your head, sighing.

“Why can’t you leave me alone?” Your voice bounces off the walls, peeling paint and moving the dust stuck atop the fridge. “Damnit, Simon.”

Today was worse than the others—everything building and stacking like some castle of misery and pain; windows too narrow to let in any light and your form stuck in shadows longer than an endless rope. There were just so many things that suffocated you now.

And in the endless nights, the brain desperately looks for comfort.

You hate that it only comes from the memories of him.

“I have to go to work tomorrow.” Your subconscious reminds you as you blankly stare out the window above the sink, seeing the streetlights and the cone of warm light—it flickers every so often, a blinking taking place like the eye of a large, brutish, wolf.

Work, then the grocery store, then back home to eat a tasteless dinner and fall back to sleep. An empty house with empty walls and empty memories.

Your hands put the glass in the sink, coming back up to rub and dig into your eyes until the itch behind your flesh stops. A thump of a low pulse is felt in the thin skin, orbs of your optics moving before you pinch into the bridge of your nose and drop them with a slap of a hand to the counter. A harsh breath exits your mouth, but it’s quickly strangled away into a sound of ragged shock.

Outside, under the light, the silhouette of a man leans heavily on the pole, feet shaking under him and face pressed into the shadows as his shoulders heave. You stare, wide-eyed, as your heart jumps to a rapid pace.

“What the fuck?” Your mouth utters, watching the man push off the light and stagger with a heavy limp and a jerking body of immense stature. Whoever this guy was, he was out of his mind—and coming right for your front door. You startle to go and secure it, feet slapping the ground and face twisted.

“What the fuck?!” Gasping, you re-check your locks and frantically look for something else—the stool where you place your keys meets your eyes. You grab it and place it as a barrier to the handle, tilting it on two legs and blinking quickly as whatever sleep-sheen that had been in your gaze leaves in one swoop of adrenaline.

Grunting wafts in from under the door, haggard inhales and a sudden slam of a body hitting the door. You stifle a scream and back up quick steps, slapping your hands to your mouth.

Sure, you might live in a shitty neighborhood, but no one had ever tried to just straight-up break in high or drunk off something. Your mind slashes to the knives in the kitchen drawer as the wall shakes again—something sliding down to the ground and a grunted whine.

Just before you run off, you hear it. An utterance; a disruption of airwaves. A whisper, a plea. Your brain ceases to function with one foot back the way you came, hand on the frame with the knuckles tight.

In one instance it all comes to a screeching halt.

“Ember…”

Who called you that anymore? The rare instance where you’d meet your classmates in the world they would mutter it; also be asked a few questions before they went on with their lives. You pause in your panic, slowly gazing back at the barrier and the stool like you’d just discovered you’re under the sights of a sniper.

There’s a sliver of something that inserts itself into your brain. Fear or hope, you can’t tell. But that can’t be right.

He left.

“Ember!” You flinch, the deep Manchester accent grating your heart into shreds. No. “It’s me!” He says, followed by a horribly gritty cough.

There’s a weak thump against the door, mumbled curses, and growls as if a wild animal mimicking human speech. You almost wished for that, considering you now knew the exact person behind the door down to his atoms. The brown of his eyes and the way his cheeks looked as they were stained with tears.

His laugh. Simon’s voice. Everything.

Simon.

You’re rushing to rip the stool away with a clatter and a jerk as it hits the far wall, undoing the locks with shaking hands as you grasp the handle and wrench it sideways.

His form slams to your feet with a loud grunt as the door hits the wall.

“Fuckin’ hell! Mind your bloody—!” Whatever he said was lost to you as you stare at the bloodied form of the man you had thought you’d seen the last of. Tactical gear, terrifying skull mask, black on black with weapons galore. But that voice told you all you needed to know.

Simon Riley is alive and very much breathing.

The same boy you still loved.

The same boy who’d broken your heart.

—

After October the years with Simon seemed to strengthen. You always walked together in the mornings—or, at least, you always waited for him. The dawn of your friendship strengthened and hardened to an unbreakable amount of mid-day rays; vast and sunny.

When he was sixteen he asked you to be his girlfriend, hand in his pockets and ache on his chin as he grunted out broken sentences. Stuttering and awkward. You’d smiled with your bright eyes and giggled before kissing his cheek—feeling his sigh and him melting into you with a grin of his own, unable to meet your eyes for a moment.

Later, when he said he’d wanted to leave his apprenticeship at the grocery’s butcher shop and join the Special Air Service, you’d been along for the ride—anything to get him away from his father and brother. You knew what was going on, even if he was still so hesitant to allow you any glimpse of his home life.

When he’d shy away at the Halloween decorations of skeletons as if the skull would jump off the page and tense at loud cheering, you knew. You did what you could, but there was only so much for you to suggest or say without him shutting down.

When you’d offered your flat as a safe space after graduation, desperate to help your Lover, he’d stared and blinked in shock; tilting his head at you before smiling softly and taking you into a hug. Wherever he went, he knew he’d always have a place by your side.

So, throughout his leaves of absence from the military, he’d come home to you—bruised and tired, but still the same Simon you fell in love with. You’d cook for him, tease at his shaved hair as he gave you those puppy-dog eyes, and talked him through your classes at University.

You would fall asleep on his chest, feeling the hard strength he was gaining and the way he held you tighter than he ever had; conscious of himself but not wanting to part with you.

The love the both of you had was akin to a blaze of fire, and you often found Simon simply staring into your eyes in times like those—watching silently and rubbing his thumb along your spine until your face burned.

He was always so gentle despite everything; you loved his perseverance, his drive to be good despite nearly every factor telling him he couldn’t be. Slowly but surely, he was forging his own life.

In 2003 he managed to take a break from the military to get his family straightened out. His brother, Tommy, went to rehab—Simon stayed with his mother and a year later he kicked his father to the curb and out of his and his family's life entirely. Finally free.

You managed to meet his lovely mum, still so bright, and even interacted with Tommy once he got out; went to the younger brother’s wedding in ‘06 and met Beth, his wife. When you saw Simon’s mother and the way she carried herself, you knew where your Love got his pride from. The two were so alike it was a sight to see.

While it may not have been conventional by any standard, Simon proposed to you in the back garden of Tommy’s cheap wedding venue. Alone, so as not to cause a scene. Willow trees and a small stream of water. Fireflies. The words ring in your soul with every waking moment, and they will stay there until it all goes silent with the grip of death.

He didn’t want to use his mum’s ring—the one that holds so many bad memories for both parties. He’d used the gold from it though. Went to a man who bled him dry for money to have it re-cast.

It was simple. A small, glinting, ruby pressed in the middle.

“It was always goin’ to be you, Ember, yeah?” he’d muttered in his deeper voice, formal attire holding you both tight. “So…don’t make me beg too much, Sweetheart. You know the old lady’ll kill me if I get stains on my suit.”

“Beg?” You responded, tears in your eyes but such a wide grin on your lips. The stars above you twinkle like the pupils of your eyes—the same burn still trapped. “Oh, Simon, come on, now.” He connects his forehead to yours, hand still in the middle of you and presenting the accumulation of all of his love. The other wraps your waist.

He was shaking slightly.

“I would never make you beg for my love, Brown-Eyes.”

You both share a breathless chuckle and lock lips, smiling like fools as he sighs into you.

In a happy world, that would have been the beginning of a perfect life. A happy house. A happy wedding. Happy deaths.

But something went wrong on one of his deployments.

Missing for months, he came back…wrong. With a fiery temper and sharp snapping words—wounds on the outside as well as inside. His eyes were feral, like a dog held back by a broken chain carting around its feet.

Simon never spoke about it—the missing days. The weeks. The months.

You broke yourself over it, trying to help but not knowing what would make it better. Some days there were flickers of soft expressions, but it was as if he were dragging himself up from a pool so deep it was bottomless to show them to you. Simon rarely smiled. He rarely sent an affectionate glance.

He didn’t let you touch him.

And then he called the entire engagement off with a letter on your counter only holding four words.

‘Don’t look for me.’

And then Simon’s mum, Tommy, Beth, and his nephew had all died. Been killed. And you were just supposed to move on? Live with that? There were times when you had breakdowns so bad you couldn't leave the house for days—the house that Simon and you had bought together.

All of those years.

All those vows and shared nights.

And he disappeared on you.

—

You have him sitting on the couch, watching silently from the chair across the room as he finishes wrapping his leg with the bandages from the first-aid kit you’d provided.

More like chucked at his gut.

No one had said a word, and the air was as tense as a noose—choking any oxygen that traveled into your throat. Simon was getting blood all over your flat cushions, the crimson saturating the fabric as you sit rail-rod straight, hand clenched on your thighs.

Simon’s avoiding your eyes.

“Take off the mask,” you hiss, pupils slits. If he wasn’t going to address it, then you were. Simon freezes, not breathing as his hands fall stationary around the bandages.

“I’ll be fine in a while—”

“Take off your fucking mask, Simon.” You can’t help the way you snap, face burning with shame and hate. How dare he show up now, after all of these years of mourning him and the relationship you’d built as kids. Simon wasn’t just your boyfriend—your fiancé—he was your best friend.

And all he’d done was left you a four-fucking-letter note before leaving you behind.

The geared man sighs silently, and you see his shoulders sag. His grip travels up as he straightens his spine in a fluid motion, pain medication working through him in waves of numbness.

His brown eyes bore through you as if he were a ghost. Under the fabric, his mouth thins. “Ma’am.”

Even his voice is older. More dead. How could this be your Simon?

Your heart bruises your ribcage as he grasps the top of his skeletal mask, gloved fingers peeling back the sown layers until you get the full image of a man more damaged than before. You have to stop yourself from sobbing right then and there; your throat going dry.

So many scars. Milky white and spread vastly—they weren’t pretty. Up his cheeks, down his brow line; even at the corner of his mouth and seeping down his neck. A crooked nose with damaged cartilage. Strangling a gasp, it comes out as a great expelling of horror, eyes going wide with shock.

You hate how you want to rush to him, take his face in your hands, and try to brush them away as if marks on paper. But you don’t make any such movements beyond a hunch of your shoulders.

“Not pretty, eh? Guess I should’ve warned you.” Simon rubs at his forehead, blond locks, hanging around his temple, and the black of face-paint stuck in his sockets. “Didn’t mean to fuckin’ drop in like this, Ember. Bloody bastard thing for me to do.”

You flinch at the name, looking away as you’d been peeling back his skin with your eyes. “What are you doing here, Simon?” Anyone with a brain could hear the cracking hardness in your words. Face blank.

He studies your features, taking in the changes and the bleakness of your expression. Brows furrow slightly before they go back to a state of nothingness. Simon glances around the room, finding the condition of things concerning but doesn’t show it.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about comin’ back to you, Sweetheart. Just work.”

“It is when the bastard who abandoned me shows up years later, bloody on my doorstep. Stop acting so self-righteous,” you growl, snapping, “I should toss your arse outside and let them have you. And don’t fucking call me that.”

Silence descends, and your words echo. It’s like now that he was here everything hurt ten times more than when he wasn’t.

“I never wanted us to end up like we did—”

“Bullshit!” You’re on your feet and stalking to him, pointing with your finger as he hurriedly stands up as well and looks down in shock as you press your digit into his bulky vest. “You shut your mouth, Simon Riley, and you let me explain something to you.”

He keeps silent, mouth parted and scars shifting around his stubble. His hands slightly held out at his sides and hovering over your hips—not touching you but there just in case. Simon’s brown ords are carefully widened at your tight exclamation. The sound of his clearing throat enters the living room before you speak again.

“I waited for you, hoped and prayed that you would show me at least a,” your throat bunches, but you push through. “A modicum of respect and show your stubborn self up at my door with apology flowers and a guilty smile on your lips. You know who took care of your family's burial plots, you fucking piece of shit,” his eyes flinch closed a bit, turning his head down as his breath hitches. “Me! You fucking disappeared!”

You know you shouldn’t be yelling, shouldn’t be pounding on his chest with a fist as if he was a door and you the knocker, but, dammit, it’s been years and he just shows up? Like this? Ten times the size he was—scarred and torn to shreds; laced with muscles and an expression of vacancy. Simon holds to your words, hanging off of them with a down-ward turned chin and eyes that lock with yours through pale lashes.

“Maybe I-I did, o…or pushed some things that I shouldn’t have,” you hold back your tears, but your voice still wavers, tapering off like a line without a hook, “but I didn’t deserve that, Simon.” The first traitorous sob breaks through. “I didn’t deserve that.”

His eyes shatter into a myriad of kaleidoscope bits and pieces, brows flicking from one point on your face to another in quick slashes of guilt. But he still doesn’t touch you. Not until you tell him it’s what you want.

Simon opens his mouth but closes it just as quickly, unable to find any words that would even matter. You let your tears slip down your cheeks, dribbling off your chin. The man’s chest hurts, pulse thumping to mirror yours.

“I waited for you and you broke me,” you whisper, mouth twisting with odium towards the man under your fist. “I wanted a life with you, Simon, no matter the trials.”

“I didn’t mean to…” The man trails off, clenching his jaw. You scoff, backing up a step and pressing your palms into your eyes.

“But you did.”

“I had to keep you safe, Ember.” Simon’s fingers twitch outward, eyes frantically moving around as you sniffle and shakily walk away to the kitchen. He follows, desperately on your heels as your spine bows forward with resounding cries of anguish. “I...I wasn’t right in the head, I need you to understand I didn’t want this! I never wanted to fucking hurt you!”

Your hand connects with the junk drawer, tearing it open and digging a hand inside as he pleads with you to listen.

“If I didn’t leave I was worried I’d do something—!”

“Then you should have trusted me!” Your hands rip out the ring held on a small leather strap. The ruby glints where it always sits, held in tarnished gold. You chuck it at his chest and suck down breaths so you don’t pass out. “I would have listened! Gotten you help! We don’t abandon the ones we love, Simon! Not us!”

Simon catches the object by slapping a hand to his chest, pinky finger latching through the leather cord before he jerks his limb back up. When he looks at the ring, he goes utterly still, gazing back up at you slowly.

“We were supposed to be different,” you sob, trapping it behind your hands. He’s shaking, brows tight and lines along his face as he brings a free hand to run through his locks, gripping the strands for a moment and pulling. “Simon,” you say again, and he looks back at you with glossy eyes. “We were supposed to be better.”

“What did I do to you to deserve that,” he stares, his jaw is loose and he can’t stop clenching and unclenching it. You can see his heart working through his breast. Bloodied. Beaten by fists and slashed with knives. “What did I do to you?”

“Nothing,” he gasps, taking a step forward. “Fuck, Ember, you didn’t bloody do anything to me besides love me.”

You sputter out, “Then why did you leave me here alone?” Your knees buckle and he darts forward, catching you under the arms as you wail out, shoving on his waist, “You never should have come back. Never should have come back.”

He lets you push him off; lets you back up to the counter as Simon tilts his head higher to stave off the tears in the sides of his eyes. He’d known coming here was a bad idea, for lack of a better word, but after the Op went bad and all of his safe houses were compromised, he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t to say he didn’t regret his actions in the past with you, or that he didn’t punish himself for them, yet at the time it was the only thing he could do to give him the sense that you would be better without him. Safe.

After everything that had happened, he wasn’t in the right state of mind anymore. You deserved so much better. But hearing all of this…

Christ, could he have been wrong? Everything blurred; hurt. Hearing your sobs was like a knife to his heart every time, digging and cutting with serrated edges at the veins and pumping muscle, carving away flesh to shed the pounding redness to light. You held that heart in your hand and in his he held the ring—the ring he’d given to you as a promise of love and honor.

A pact of loyalty.

Simon doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the blurring edges of his vision make itself known. His eyes bore harshly, prodding into you as he makes known what he’s been broken since he first locked gazes with you again. The man’s voice shakes, accent deep and tight.

He asks the first thing that comes to his head.

“What happened to your eyes?”

“What?” You ask, incredulously, brows furrowed as your hand digs into the counter to keep you upright. Simon stares deeper, the sides of his eyelids wrinkling with a not-so-hidden sheen of great concern. Unbearable pain.

“What happened to your bloody eyes?” Where had the spark gone? That flare that grew and spread like fire that was the entire purpose behind your name. An unconquerable ache for life.

You only watch him with a parted mouth and tear-stained lashes, sniffling. Simon tries again, taking a step forward on unsteady feet.

“Please, Sweetheart, d…don’t, don’t…” He can’t finish, the leather cord intertwined into his fingers as he comes closer. “Don’t tell me I took it away. Not my Ember. Not my Girl’s fire.”

Your eyes are so overflowed you can’t even see him as he hovers over you, fingers coming up to brush your cheeks as his mouth is open in hard pants of breath. “No, no, no. Fuckin’ bastard, not me. Not over me, please.” It’s like Simon’s not even talking to you but rather himself.

He mutters in fast sentences, eyes panicked. “You were supposed to be better off—‘posed to move on. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you find someone else?”

“You’re an idiot, Simon. An idiot,” you sag into his neck, nose digging into his pulse as he quivers, legs having to reset themselves. His heat melts into you as your body gives out with a final sob, “It was always going to be you.”

His arms snap around you like a vise, dragging you into him as he breaks and stifles his whimper on your scalp, breathing right by your ear; gasping for breath.

“M’sorry,” he mutters, so silent below his sniveling stutters, “M’so sorry, Sweetheart. This is all my fucking fault.”

You shake into his chest, face nuzzling and desperate to smell his scent again—tired from all the yelling and fighting. It was still late, you still needed to go to work tomorrow…but Simon.

Oh, Simon. How could he be so…him?

Your sobs are quieter than his, tiny cries that make the man’s arms tighten around you every time. Hands coming up, you can’t stop the way you want to hold him; how you wish to keep him close to you and push him away all at once. How dare he?

How dare he still make you love him after all he’d put you through?

Simon sags to the floor with you in his hold, head bowed and trying to gasp down his vulnerability as tears stain your shoulder. It’s as if the realization that he’d made a mistake had broken him back down to when he was young, past hatred of messing up infesting his brain like maggots. A fear of it, even.

The man presses quick, panicked kisses to your neck as his breath hitches every other second, rocking you back and forth.

“Didn’t mean to do it,” Simon utters. “Didn’t mean for it to hurt you—”

He breaks off and you realize that despite the years Simon’s mind was still very much fragile when it came to home life. You blink and take a deep breath, unable to get out of his unrelenting grip.

Your hand travels up to find the back of his head, spreading through his hair and massaging his flesh. When things got bad you used to do this with him. Give the man something to focus on so he could pass through his hysteria quicker.

Simon’s ribcage bangs against yours, nearly hyperventilating with how he’s trying to hide his small grunts and whines.

“Simon,” you clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down as seriousness sets in your tone. “Simon, breathe.”

Your ears twitch, noticing him listen to you as he takes down a long gasp of air and breathes out in puffs on your neck—hot and humid.

“Ember…”

“Shh,” interrupting, you shush him in tiny whispers, still rubbing at his head. “Brown-Eyes, just sit here, okay?” You feel a jerky nod, his fingers squeezing your flesh off and on as he mimics your own lung pattern.

It’s a few minutes before he goes completely still again, and you feel the burn of shame from his face in your clutch. The relationship was strained—or whatever you could call this—but you never wanted to see him in pain. Never.

You knew he was better when he sighs deeply, completely going limp in your arms; great weight leaning into you as you lean back to the cabinets to help with the pure might of his physique. With a slow hand, you un-velcro his vest and his gear, letting it hit the floor with dull thumps and clatters.

He doesn’t protest, doesn’t move to help or hinder. You would give anything to know what he was thinking.

“M’sorry,” Simon whispers and you respond accordingly, softly.

“You’ve already said that, Love.” He grunts, taking in a long, deep breath.

“Need you t’know it.”

“...I do.”

“Okay.” You close your eyes and stave off your anger at everything happening right now. While it would feel better to yell at him until dawn, what would that even achieve? Everything had needed to be said, had been. And you’d never felt lighter than at this moment.

You knock your head against him, the both of you panting for breath and hands vibrating with leaving adrenaline. Sweaty and twitchy.

“You never should have done that, Simon.” Whispering, you sigh. “I needed you. I needed you here. With me.” He stays still, but you feel his lips press deeper into your pulse. You’re practically in his lap, back to the woodgrain.

In a moment of weakness, or pure longing, you pull his head back and situate your hands at his cheeks, looking over his scars and his broken skin as he lets you move him how you wish. His half-lidded, red, eyes stare—grip around you not letting up.

Simon doesn’t speak as, unprompted, you kiss the shattered bridge of his nose; you only feel the fluttering of his lashes as they tickle your cheeks.

“I was scared of myself.” He mutters. “After they died…” His family. “I didn’t want to put you in danger, Ember. Not you.”

“We would have figured it out, Simon. You know that, deep down, you do.” Brown eyes find yours as you tilt his head.

“You sure?” He asks, desperate for an answer even though he doesn’t know himself.

Thumbs run up and down his stubble. Your face creases, “...I don’t know. But we could have tried.”

Simon’s eyes close tightly, and his face tilts to press his lips to your palm, quivering breath exhaled with the strength of an open balloon. Your ring was still stuck in his digging grip, and it was never going to leave for the rest of the night.

“Yeah,” he whispers, gravely voice lax.

Studying him now, in this light, knowing he was so afraid of what he might do if he got into an episode, you were stabbed with agony in your heart. To be that afraid of yourself to that magnitude was nearly unimaginable to you.

Nearly.

“What now?” You ask lowly, the last remnants of tears drying as Simon opens his eyes slowly, looking back at you.

“Don’t know.” He admits. “I have to leave.”

“I have work tomorrow,” you relate. Your teeth find your lip, biting it.

A small awkward chokehold captures the both of you. The reality was that both of you were akin to strangers again—such was the curse of lost years and trials you’d faced along the way.

Brown-Eyes and Ember were dead, yet you still called their names like phantoms of sleek black fabric and chained recollections of a boy with red cheeks and a girl with muddy shoes. The walks to school were there, the dates, and the late nights spent in good company. Touches to skin and open-mouthed kisses. Fireflies that whizzed and the glinting of gold as wind ran through the willows.

Dark corruption stained the faint idea of happiness; of a good world. This was not reality. It was some joke of an existence.

If life were fair, Simon Riley would have never grown up in that house—his father wouldn’t have latched onto his brother and done dark deeds to wrap the little brown-eyed boy in red tissue paper and barbed wire. A present and sheen of mild sociopathy; separation of any pain or torment. A fighting boy. A boy born with blood on his hands and stuck behind his eyes every time he swung a fist.

It was a curse to love him. And it was a curse that burned your soul with his very name.

“Are you going to go?” You ask, eyes blank but yearning for what little comfort you can grab. It had been so long. Simon blinks, his head still in your hands; body not moving.

He knows he should. He isn’t sure if there’s anything left for him here or not.

Simon connects his head to yours and you still. “Do you want me to?”

“Do you love me?” You blurt, blinking at him and confused. Simon’s lips part. “Or if you walk out that door do I plan on never seeing you again?”

You're about to open your mouth and continue before his own slots perfectly against it.

You gasp lightly, taken aback but in no way opposed. He still felt exactly the same, flesh still tasting metallic and tinged with violence down to his DNA; raised with survival instincts as his greatest ally. Until you.

With you survival became secondary.

Your hands go to card through his hair, latching and lightly pulling as Simon’s body shivers; growling against your lips in a dance of heated flesh and damp cheeks. Hearts hammer with the restraint of years.

“I would never make you beg for my love,” he murmurs between lapsing passes of his mouth, open kisses and dark glances. “Tell me where you want me to be.”

You whimper against him and he goes back in, pressing the base of your skull to the cabinet as hands grip and slide, kneading your skin.

“Tell me,” Simon whispers. Pleads through grunts. “Ember, tell me.”

“Here,” you admit brokenly, pulling him closer to you as you’re lifted and placed on the countertop. “I need you here, Simon. I need you with me.”

Fingers capture your chin, keeping your head angled up as your eyes beg. Lips bush with every word, gazes wild as if two leopards locking jaws over a kill.

“Fight to get me back.” Brown sparks with purpose, a small puff of air hitting your mouth as eyes darken over. In this moment, you do not know if you’re dying or living. “Make it right.”

“Affirmative.” Simon moves his head back, taking your ring and looping the cord around his neck, he keeps it there as you watch, breathless. Your face creases with question. The man’s lips flicker when he sees this, coming back and grasping your hips as you instinctually latch to his waist.

“I’ll give it back when I’ve earned the right for you to be called mine again. Seems I have work to do, Sweetheart.” He kisses you once more, firm and true. “First, I’ll ‘ave to figure out if my Girl can get her spark back, yeah? I’ve proper gone and fucked it up.”

That night you lay in the heap of limbs and sheets that couple the both of you together. In the morning the questions would start, and Simon knew you’d take nothing short of the truth.

And he’d give you it. All of it.

Because Simon Riley knows well enough that you don’t go and bite the hand that feeds twice. Certainly not when it was you. Certainly not when it offers a love he would never hope to find again, in this life or the next.

So you keep the other close and sag into a deep slumber, not to wake for a long, long time.

And you’d both never slept better

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moonchild9350 · 4 months ago

Text

You Have Me

Summary: You've been best friends/roommates with Jeongin for awhile. You thought you knew everything about your friend. However, one night you find out a little secret about Jeongin that is just too good to ignore.

Pairing: friends to lovers, nonidol sub Jeongin x soft dom fab reader

Genre: Smut: 18+ MDNI please

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: lots of teasing, dry humping, handjob, pussy job, oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v penetration, creampie (wrap it up folks), use of term noona, phone sex in a way, somnophilia, voyerisum, masturbation, edging, dirty talk I think that's it lol

Notes: I love dom Innie but I also just love the concept of sub, whiny Innie. The concept just does things to me lol. I hope y'all like it!

Likes, comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

Masterlist

“Argh! Dammit nooo!” You scream, banging the controller on the floor.

Jeongin, who was sitting above you on the couch chuckled at your distress. You were playing a round of zombie royale with your best friend and roommate Jeongin and well it wasn’t going so well. You had just died, resurrecting as a member of the undead. Jeongin was still alive, fighting as best as he could for the team, as your numbers were slowly decreasing.

“It’s ok noona,” he said while trying to fight off a hoarde. “Look for an elixir so you can join us again.”

You nodded, beginning your search. This was a typical Friday night for both of you, neither of you having to go into work the next day. You loved these nights, spent playing video games late into the night, snack wrappers scattered around you, as you played whatever game you decided on earlier in the day. It was late, you both playing one more round before you decided to call it a night.

Jeongin was doing well, he was completely focused on the screen. He was trying to win it for the team, and by the looks of it, he’ll probably succeed. It was silent as you both focused, the sound of the buttons on the controller being rapidly pressed echoing throughout the room. You had just found an elixir, when Jeongin yelled in victory. He was the last human standing as the other team’s player succumb to the dead.

“Fuck yeah!” Jeongin yelled, getting up to do a little victory dance. You laughed as he danced around the room. You decided to get up and dance with him because why not, you were on his team anyway. After spinning around the room and brining out your insane dance moves, you both collapsed on the couch, laughing your heads off as you tried to catch your breath.

Jeongin turned to face you, “good job noona, even though you became a zombie.” You playfully hit his shoulder, with a grin on your face.

“Hey! I could have made it just so you know. That zombie came out of nowhere!”

Jeongin laughed, “I know, I know.” He took a deep breath and said, “let’s clean up? I’m kinda tired.”

You shook your head yes as you got up and started picking up food wrappers. Jeongin gathered the controllers, putting them on the docking stations. After cleaning, Jeongin said goodnight, giving you a hug. You sat back down on the couch, not quite ready for bed. You were so happy to be living with your best friend, most days filled with happiness. You’d known Jeongin since middle school, as you were neighbors. You became fast friends after you saved him from some not so nice kids that lived in your neighborhood. They thought he was a nerd and therefore a loser.

You thought the opposite, so you stuck up for the new kid on the block. Jeongin appreciated your kindness and the rest is history. Now you live together and you even work together. You couldn’t imagine life without him. He’s still a nerd, which you loved, but over the years he’s become handsome. You noticed it and other women noticed it too, especially those at your work. Not a day goes by they’re not flirting with him.

It’s been awhile since Jeongin has brought a girl over, which shocked you. You’d discuss what be thought about the new girl at work or if he’s found anyone on a dating app. He’d deflect his answer however, saying he’s not interested in dating at the moment. You’d never push him, not wanting to make your best friend uncomfortable, but you did find his reaction odd. Whatever his decision though, you’d respect it, as it wasn’t your place to meddle in.

You had put on a tv show, turning the volume down so as not to disturb Jeongin. Everything was calm and peaceful until you heard a moan. You froze on the couch, listening for the sound again. Seconds went by without a sound so you dismissed the disturbance, thinking it was the tv. However , minutes later, you heard another moan. You picked up the remote and muted it, listening for the sound and…there it was again. It was definitely coming from Jeongin’s room.

You got up and made your way to his door, placing your hand on the door handle. You twisted the knob, not knocking as you guys didn’t really care if you came into each others rooms, and opened the door. What you saw caused you to gasp.

Jeongin was laying on his bed, his head thrown back. He wasn’t wearing any pants or boxers and was stroking his hard cock. You were frozen in your spot, watching as he glided his hand over the shaft, before circling his wrist over the head. His breathing was shallow, as he let out little moans.

You really should move, leave him be and go to your room. You were about to do so until you heard a voice, a woman’s voice come from his…his phone?

“How does it feel baby? Does my hand feel good?”

“Ye..yes Noona, it feels so good,” Jeongin whined, stroking his cock a little faster. He whimpered, jerking his hips up into his hand.

Was your best friend talking to a sex line? You were shocked. At that moment, something switched in you. You closed the door and walked towards your best friend. He has yet to notice you in which you were amazed. You climbed onto his bed, straddling his legs causing his eyes to fly open, shock all over his face.

He tried to cover his cock with his hands, hiding it from your view, but you slapped his hands away, rising your eyebrows daring him to try to cover himself again. You watched as he swallowed, uncertainty on his face. But he was horny, he was hard, and the woman on the other side of the call was still talking, edging him on.

“Stroke your cock harder for me baby. Can you do that? Be a good boy and listen ok?”

Jeongin hesitantly reached down to touch his cock once more, unsure if he should comply, but you slapped his hand out the way, grabbing onto his member instead, as Jeongin let out a gasp. You looked down, getting a good look at his cock. It was pretty, a nice length and slightly thick, enough to stretch you and fill you up nicely you thought . You ran your finger over his pretty pink tip, pre-cum leaking from the tip, pushing your finger down slightly.

Jeongin let out a little whimper, the pout you love forming on his face. You looked him in the eyes as you started to stroke his cock, working your hand up and down the shaft. Jeongin let out a loud moan, his hips bucking up into your hand. You grinned at the sound, before leaning down to spit on the head. You watched as it dropped down his pretty length, mixing with his precum as you worked his cock.

You watched him squirm at the mercy of your hand, watching his face scrunch in pleasure. The sight in front of you was beautiful, a sight you could definitely get used to. You could feel your arousal drip into your panties, soaking the material at the thought that he was feeling this way because of you.

“Does baby boy feel good hmm? Imagine my pretty lips around your cock baby, yeah? That’s it baby.” The woman on the phone said.

With a glint in your eyes, you leaned down before wrapping your lips around his cock, sucking the head into your mouth. Jeongin let out an animalistic howl, you’re sure that even the neighbors heard. You bobbed your head, before taking him to the hilt, the hair framing the base of his cock tickling your face. You peeked up to look at your best friend, letting out a moan at the sight of him gone, his mouth wide open, chest heaving, as you sucked the soul out of his cock. You massaged his balls before leaning down to take one into your mouth.

Jeongin began to thrust his hips upwards, gently fucking your mouth. The woman was still speaking, but neither one of you were paying attention to her voice. You licked a stripe from the base to the tip before wrapping your lips around the head once more, suckling the tip. Jeongin’s moans got louder and more raspy. He was close, you could tell, as he fell apart in your mouth. But you weren’t going to let him have it that easily.

You lifted your head, your lips leaving his cock with a pop. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes, letting out a whine at his fading orgasm. You crawled up his body to hover over him. While looking him in the eyes, you reached over and disconnected the call, a smirk on your face.

“Mmm learned something new about my best friend tonight,” you purred, your finger brushing down his chest, as you pinched his nipple. “You like to be told what to do huh? You get off on being bossed around.”

All Jeongin could do was whimper, the answer clear in his eyes. Straddling his legs, you gave an experimental grind of your hips, the feeling of his cock dragging against your clothed core causing you to let out a sigh.

“You didn’t have to call some random hotline Innie baby.” You said as you rolled your hips again.

You had him where you wanted him, his eyes dragging from your face to where your hips met his cock and back to your face again. You watched as he swallowed loudly, his Adams apple bobbing with the motion.

“Noona, please,” Jeongin whispered out.

He was losing his mind. His best friend was on top of him, who just gave him the best head of his life, and is talking to him like he’s nothing. He’s cock twitched at the thought.

You grinned down at him before saying, “you know why you don’t have to call some random woman Innie? Hmm?”

Jeongin shook his head no, his words stuck in his throat.

“Because you have me baby,” you purred as you took off your top. Your breast were on display, your nipples hardening as the cold hit them.

“Now let’s play some more Innie. Here’s the rules, no touching unless I say so. You’re going to do what I say. Got it?” You said, brushing the back of your hand across his cheek.

Jeongin nodded fervently, watching as you got up to take off your sleep shorts, dragging your panties with them. He couldn’t take his eyes off your body, the vision of every wet dream he’s ever had. He wanted to touch you, but he remembered your rules, not wanting to disobey. He likes when women tell him what to do in bed, not that he’s had much experience, most women not comfortable doing so. But here you are, his best friend, in the flesh, ready to make his dreams come true.

You straddled his legs once more, dragged his cock through your lips, the slide was easy between your slick, your spit, and his precum leaking from his cock. You ground your hips faster, the tip of his cock hitting your clit deliciously over and over. Jeongin was a whining mess, his fists opening and closing at his sides. You smirked at his obedience, the act turning you on even more as more slick gushed out your pussy and onto his pelvis and cock.

You looked at his pretty lips, parted in ecstasy. How many days have you thought about his lips, his mouth and what it could do. What better time to find out but now.

Jeongin watched as you lifted your hips and stood up, making your way towards his head. He looked up at you, a pout on his face as he waited for your next move.

“I’m gonna sit on your face baby, make sure you eat it good.” You said as you squatted over his face. Joengin’s eyes were huge as he looked at your pussy, subconsciously licking his lips. He let out little whimpers as you got closer to his face. You grinned at how eager he was.

“You’re gonna do what I ask right? You’re gonna make me feel good right baby?”

“Yes, yes noona! Need your pussy, sit on my face noona.” Jeongin said as he made to grab your hips to bring you even closer.

“Did I say you can touch me?”

Jeongin looked at you like a kid that got caught. “I’m..I’m sorry noona.” He said quietly.

“It’s ok Innie, I’ll let it slide this time.”

You lowered yourself over his face, his breath fanning across your lips causing your pussy to clench in anticipation. Jeongin grabbed your hips harder and pulled you down onto his face, letting out a loud groan as he licked up your slit, before sucking your clit into his mouth. You were at a loss for words, as he suckled the bud and rolled it against his tongue. You watched as he made out with your pussy, pulling your further into his face. You started to grind your hips, riding his tongue, as your arousal pooled into his mouth. His nose tickled your clit, the stimulation causing shivers to run down your back.

Jeongin grunted before shoving his tongue into your entrance, licking your walls over and over. You were shocked at how fast you felt your high approaching, the feeling of a band tightening in your belly. You sped up your hips, riding his tongue faster and faster, the thought of Jeongin not being able to breath as your smothered his face with your pussy not even crossing your mind. Jeongin let out a loud muffled moan, the vibrations causing you to tip over the edge. You rode out your high, your thighs squeezing together against Jeongin’s head, your body contracting against the force of your orgasm. You rocked your hips once more before lifting them, scooting down so you could see Jeongin’s face.

His pupils were dilated and his face was wet with your slick as he licked his lips. He moaned at your taste, making sure to get every drop he could. You leaned down to press your lips against his, tasting yourself on him. The kiss became heated quick, as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the two appendages fighting for dominance.

“Put it in Innie, go ahead baby,” you murmured against his lips.

Jeongin grasped his cock, stroking it a few times and running it through your lips. He pressed his length against your entrance before you rolled your hips down as you sank down onto his cock. You sat up and rolled your hips again and again, as the feel of his length rubbing your walls felt just right. You reached down for Jeongin’s hands and placed them on your breasts. He immediately squeezed them, brushing his fingers over your nipples.

You let out sighs as he was hitting your spot over and over. He continued to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples every now and then as you sped up the motion of your hips. You rode his cock hard and fast, as you barreled towards your orgasm again. Jeongin was close, you could feel it as his cock twitched within your walls. His moans became louder which each swivel of your hips, as little whimpers fell from his lips.

He brought his fingers down to your clit and began to rub your bundle of nerves in sloppy circles, his fingers slipping and sliding from your slick. With the added stimulation, you fell over the edge, your pussy clenching over and over on his cock. Jeongin thrusted his hips into yours before letting out a loud growl, ropes of his cum hitting your walls and dripping down onto his pelvis. You collapsed on top of him exhausted, your legs throbbing from holding yourself up.

Jeongin wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. You both laid there in silence, your breaths becoming more steady with each passing moment.

“Thank you noona,” Jeongin whispered, breaking the silence.

You lifted your head up to look at your best friend, blush spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him saying, “anytime bestie.”

Jeongin’s softened cock slipped out your pussy, both his and your cum sliding down onto his abdomen. He shifted you to the side, getting up to go grab a towel. He wiped you down gently, before wiping the cum off himself. He got back into bed, pulling you to his chest and pulling the blanket over both of you.

“Never thought you were a dom noona,” Jeongin chuckled.

“You’re one to talk,” you said, “never thought you were a sub.”

“Touche” Jeongin said, hugging your close.

He ran his fingers through your hair, his mind running a mile a minute. Did this change your relationship? Did you want to be more than friends? He wasn’t sure how to bring it up to you. Besides you had drifted off to sleep, your breathing steady as he held you. Oh well, he thought. You both could discuss this later.

The next morning, you felt a pleasurable sensation in between your legs. You thought it was dream, as you may have been dreaming about Jeongin and how he felt within you last night. You laid there in bliss, letting the feeling take over. However, you realized it felt too amazing…too real. Your eyes snapped open and looked up. Jeongin was hovering over you, as he let out little pants. His cock was buried within your walls, as he brutally snapped his hips into yours.

“Morning noona,” he breathed out, his pace never faltering. “Couldn’t help it noona, needed to feel you.”

“Shit Innie,” you breathed, as you rested your head against the pillow again. You didn’t know how long he was buried between your thighs, but you could tell Jeongin was close. He snapped his hips into you again and again, as he moaned and whimpered, “so good, so so good.”

You sighed out and brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing the bud. “Close Innie, close.”

Jeongin hummed and with a few more thrusts of his hips, he stilled and buried his head in your neck, his cum flooding your walls once again. The feeling triggered your release, your walls spasming around his cock, milking him dry. He whimpered into your neck, slowly rocking his hips into yours. He laid there on top of you once he came down from his high, pressing soft kisses onto your neck. You threaded your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes feeling content.

“Noona?” Jeongin said, his voice muffled from being buried in your neck.

You hummed out in response, signaling for him to go on.

“What does this make us?” He softly asked.

His question made you freeze. What were you? That was a good question. You have been best friends for a long time. Would this change things between you? You hoped not, you didn’t want to lose him. But what’s life without a little risk?

So with a steady voice you said, “I guess this makes you my boyfriend.”

You felt Jeongin let out the breath he was holding as he continued to nuzzle into your neck. He pressed a kiss there before lifting his head up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. He broke away and smiled at you, his dimples that you love so much popping out. He took a breath and said,

“I like the sound of that noona. Good thing you found out about my secret huh?"

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @thesilvernight0wl @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus

#stray kids smut #jeongin smut #i.n. smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #jeongin x reader #i.n. x reader #skz x reader #jeongin hard thoughts #jeongin hard hours #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #jeongin imagines #i.n. stray kids

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silverflqmes · 10 months ago

Note

heey, i really loved your writing!! could you write a fluff where kageyama has a crush on seijouh's manager and doesn't know how to approach because of certain people (oikawa and kindaichi lol) ?

sorry if something is spelled wrong, I'm using the translator 😞❤️

lovee from Brazil!

໒⦂ 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄.

notes. first song that came to mind^ by taylor swift ( ofc ) but anyway.. hello anon! much love to you in brazil<3 i hope this drabble is too your liking, not very confident in my take on kageyama but we cope.

genre. fluff ( kinda cliché.. )

tobio kageyama x gn!reader.

tobio wasn’t exactly what many would call, in tune with their feelings. in fact, he sucked at expressing what he felt. so much, that any emotions could easily be compared to crashing waves.

feelings surface and take the skies to great heights, only come crashing down and return to the expanse of water.

though it wasn’t completely his fault. many factors prevented him from expressing himself in a normal and understandable way. this time around, it was two students from his old junior high that stood in the way — yuutaro kindaichi, and no surprise here — tooru oikawa.. whom he didn’t have the best relationship with.

and what exactly were they blocking him from? well, his feelings towards you.

once upon a time ago, you had also attended kitagawa daiichi and have been kageyama’s crush for as long as could remember. no one could compare to you no matter how many times he tried to disregard his feelings.

now that you attended aoba johsai, he feared he might never get to tell you of his sentiments towards you.

the one opportunity he had to speak with you was during the practice match early into the school year, and at the singular opportunity he received to approach you, when he didn’t just feel like a face in a crowd.. kageyama became completely tongue tied.

like a fool he choked on his words before spouting a pathetic excuse of a greeting once kindaichi had arrived with kunimi to pull you away from him.

now, he was met with a new opportunity.. one that featured no aoba johsai, no court and zero volleyball — just the two of you, and the beach.

the raven haired setter had come with his sister for the day, saying to him that he had needed sun and a break from his cherished sport. the odds of you showing up were zero, and yet, here he was.. proven wrong once more.

miwa, upon seeing you playing blissfully in the water with a friend you had brought down to the beach with you, had of course nagged her younger brother, urging that it was fate. how often was it that you showed up to the beach at the same time as your crush without that knowledge, anyway?

still, the first year had refused to approach you. how could he when you were having so much fun? you’d freeze up completely if you had to hear another failed attempt at a confession.

despite being so close to him, you felt so far away for him. out of his league, out of reach.. and it terrified him to take those few steps in approaching you. who was to say you wanted him anyway if he spoke up? for all he knew someone else was in the picture.

there was just too much at risk, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear your rejection.

“tobio.. you’re gonna lose her completely with the rate you’re going at.” his older sister sighed out, draining her bottle of coke. “nobody’s here to stop or make you feel judged in any way. and i can tell you right now,” she paused, pushing her sunglasses up a bit. “you’re not getting a better opportunity than this one.”

his lips pursed together as he stole another glance at you before looking at the emptied glass bottle in his hand. “it’s pointless trying, onee-san. she came here to enjoy herself and relax — not witness an embarrassment of a confession, if i even get one out.” the words would be completely jumbled, so much that it was sure to sound illiterate. like a baby trying to get their first word out.

he wondered if he could just get his feelings across without standing there to tell you. if he could do it that way, surely the confession would get across, and it won’t have cost him his dignity.

the elder eyed the younger for a moment before letting out a hum. “if this was volleyball, surely you’d have found a way around this by now.” she spoke up before laying back in her beach chair. “facing defeat has made you too comfortable, tobio.”

his lips parted to throw back a retort before, wanting to defend what little pride he had left, but his thoughts failed him when they couldn’t form into a sentence. miwa was right, painful as it was to admit. he gave up way too easily, all because of vulnerability.

his gaze lingered on the glass in his hand for a little while longer, the sea beyond twinkling in the distant horizon.

and just like that, an idea struck him. “nee-san, do you have a paper and pen i can borrow?”

“i’m telling you hana-chan, every conversation we’ve had just ends up in word vomit when he addresses me — considering yuutaro-kun and oikawa-senpai always intervene..” you sighed out to your friend from johzenji, pursing your lips together. “i feel bad each time we talk because of it.”

the brunette lowered her sunglasses to her face, letting out a hum. “volleyball boys do tend to hold onto their grudges, otherwise they’d be more like my team.. and they’re certainly a draining bunch.” it was like hosting a kid’s birthday party everyday when it came down to managing. “maybe you should try contacting him outside of volleyball?” she suggested, sipping on her smoothie.

your lips pursed together. “i probably should, he was a really good guy back in junior high.. despite what everyone says about his behavior with volleyball.” an awkward laugh seemed to have left your lips at the memories. “but i miss having him in my life, i just don’t know if he feels the same way..”

“what’s that?” the manager spoke up, sitting upright.

raising a brow, you turned to look at your friend. “i said i don’t know if he feels the same way..”

“no no.” misaki shook her head, pointing to the shore. “that, over there.” she corrected, lifting her shades.

you blinked at her finger, following its direction before narrowing your eyes to see what she had been referring to. the sun wasn’t quite helping your vision, in fact- whatever it was, the sun reflected it in a way that made you get up to go look for yourself.

if someone threw trash into the sea with garbage bins scattered all around the beach to maintain the cleanliness, you were seriously going to throw hands.

as you approached the shallow water, you kneeled to pick up the discarded bottle, wondering who on earth couldn’t just get off their ass and throw away a coke bottle.

but as you got a better look, you found a paper inside. at first glance it might have been a wrapper for a straw, however it wasn’t crumbled up like trash. rather — it was rolled up.

part of you thought you might have found the krabby patty secret formula somehow by its appearance. glass bottle and a note? a child would have surely thought similarly and opened it to see.

and like a kid.. curiosity got the better of you.

twisting off the cap, you flipped the bottle over to shake the letter out, eager to see what you might find. maybe even treasure — although that was farfetched.. even for you.

unraveling the message, however, you found none of the things you anticipated. in fact, you were met with very the last scenario that could have possibly crossed your mind.

dear y/n,

um.. i’m no good with words, but uh, you probably noticed that the last few times we saw each other. and i have no hope that whatever i say will be any better here.. especially with limited space, but i’m hoping that i can put my feelings into words a little easier without my pride getting in the way, awkward meetings, or our old schoolmates.

i like you, a lot.. and i have for a really long time now — since kitagawa daiichi. but i’ve just, had a hard time bringing those feelings across to you, so i never got the chance, especially when we go to different schools.

just feels like the universe doesn’t want me with you every time i try to speak up, so i decided to write them instead, hoping they get to you in this message.

if you don’t feel the same, i understand- i just hope we can remain friends, and that i haven’t made things even more awkward than they already were between us.

yours sincerely,

tobio kageyama.

shock painted your features as you read the name nine more times, scanned the contents of the letter before looking behind you.

tobio was somewhere on the beach and you hadn’t even seen him. he could have made an approach as well, but his fears, you guessed, of rejection.. told him not to.

finally, as your eyes were ready to give up the search, a sliver of blueberry caught your gaze. bingo.

“y/n?? where are you-”

“one minute, i think i saw someone i know!” you quickly intercepted hana, rising from your crouched position to run a few umbrellas down.

there was one with a duo underneath that resembled one another, and if your memory served you correctly — that was tobio and his older sister. miwa, if your memory hadn’t failed you.

the setter seemed to be his own world for a moment, filing his nails as part of his routine. even outside of the court, he still had to maintain his habits.

“tobio, i’m off to get us more drinks.” the female spoke up after looking up, smiling to herself. “be right back~”

kageyama let out a noise of agreement, only lifting his head a smidge to nod before pausing when he noticed a figure across from him — your figure.

either you just noticed him, or you had actually received the haphazard message in the bottle he had sent. and by the looks of it, it had been the latter.

“y/n..” he breathed out, lowering the filer in his hand as he watched you approach him.

the butterflies from every occasion he had encountered you this past year seemed to have returned to his stomach. was this what hinata felt before every match..?

“tobio-kun, it’s been awhile.” you smiled a little, letting out a sheepish laugh. “surprised to find you here, it almost feels like fate.. except no distractions this time for us to finally put everything out on the table.”

his heart seemed to accelerate with pace, the nerves increasing almost tenfold. rejection, he could just sense it coming. “um, well.. i already said how i feel, considering you got the letter.” he spoke up, eyeing the emptied beverage in your hands.

at his reasoning, you lifted the bottle before humming. “true, but i didn’t actually hear it from you. for all i know it could have been something of your sister’s doing.”

tobio, blushing profusely, nearly found himself barking back a response — a frequent habit of his. but as he eyed your expecting gaze, he faltered, lowering his head in defeat.

“how will i know if by saying it, i won’t just end up being made into a fool..?” he mumbled, pursing his lips together.

as you took a step closer, you gave him a knowing stare. “let me do you a better one, how are you so sure i’ll make you into a fool? you’re aware of your feelings.” you paused before pointing to yourself. “but you’re not aware of mine, it seems.”

his lips parted to retort before he froze up. “wait- your feelings? you..”

a smile returned to your lips as you sat beside him. “i like you, tobio-kun. are the feelings i read true?” you asked him, tilting your head curiously.

the color on his cheeks seemed to darken as he avoided your intent gaze for a moment before nodding. “they’re as i wrote them.. i really do like you, y/n — and i meant every word i said.. i was just scared you might’ve felt.. differently.”

“well,” you grabbed his hand, grinning brightly. “rest assured the feelings are mutual at long last!”

notes. sorry this is rushed and written in like 7382393939 different sittings.. hoping i was able to fulfill your request somewhat?? idk how in character he is.. but anyway, ty for the request anon and sorry for the very long wait ahaha.. please enjoy!

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