#you’d think the 3 year jump would be obvious

[mullermilkshake]

Moving on.

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

It’s been years since you escaped Satoru’s clutches, life is much more peaceful now isn’t it?

Yandere!Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader x Nanami Kento DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,coercion,Possessive,Choking,PTSD,Kento Nanami is your husband/ married life,Medication,Therapy/ Therapist,Implied,Emotional/ Psychological abuse,Implied and actual,Physical abuse,Violence,Vaginal sex,Cunnilingus,Nipple play,Bathroom sex,Referenced stabbing,Referenced strangling,Contemplated death from Yandere!,Guns,Referenced drowning

“No one can love you like I can.” He put his hand on your thigh, another at your throat, squeezing, tightening until you couldn’t see.  

That was his favourite. 

“No one will. I’m all you have. You’re nothing without me.” Another line he enjoyed to keep you in his grasp. 

“I am something. Just let me go!” But you couldn’t fight it anymore. 

—- 

You sat up, gasping for air and clasping at your neck. Another nightmare. The eerie darkness loomed over like a rain cloud, pissing horror all over you. It had been so long ago, but the memories still remained the same.

“What’s wrong? Another nightmare?” The bed impression moved, your husband had woken. 

“I’m sorry Ken. I didn’t mean to wake you-

His embrace around your quivering, sweat ridden body made you finch at first. His large hand caressed the side of your face to soothe it. 

“You didn’t.” He said, sitting up away from the covers.

He hesitated to speak at first, you could hear it in his breaths, even over your shallow ones. “It’s him again, isn’t it?”

When wasn’t it him? It was always him. Everything he’d done, what you did to get away and leave him for good. And he still stayed rent free in your head, like a tumour. 

“I’ll be fine. I just need to check the house.”

“I’ll check. Go take a shower, calm your nerves.”

It took everything inside you to object and check the house yourself. Something you were working on with your therapist. Kento left the bed, covering himself up with his robe, the moonlight bouncing off his body from the window. 

“Okay.” 

You let the scolding water roll over you, it was the only thing you could think of to make you feel something other than just staring at the bathroom door. 

He’s going to burst in at any moment and Ken will be gone. He’ll kill him.  

The tip of your gut waited to flip, knowing one day at any moment, he’d find you again and rip everything you’d made for yourself from underneath you. Your home, husband, your friend, even though you hardly heard from Shoko anymore.

It would all be gone and it was only a matter of time. 

Although he was understanding, you knew Kento was getting flustered by the yearly moves, even if he did hate his job. 

One day, Ken won’t come home because Satoru will find out about our marriage.  

You were constantly glancing over your shoulder during the low key affair, just in case you saw him. But many times you thought you did. A white haired person in the supermarket, a customer at work or a stranger on the bus. Someone was always around, you could always see him. 

Knock knock  

You jumped, the knocks barely audible over the running water, your clenched knuckles whitened over the shower curtain. 

“It’s just me. I’m coming in.”  

Kento came in slowly, putting his left hand out first with his wedding band on. 

“The house is clear.” 

The bags under his eyes were obvious, but he dropped his robe and climbed in, embracing you behind with fingers entwined. The showering water warmed him against you, hair dripping and swooping past his groggy face. 

“I’ll try not to wake you next time. I think my sleep meds aren’t working anymore.” 

“They’re working fine. But I think you need a new shrink.”

He wasn’t lying. Your therapist since you moved was all sorts of eccentric, giving you random and sometimes terrible ideas to try and heal. They never worked and the only thing they changed was your bank account. 

“At least give it a try.” Your doctor had said, convincing you to go the whole nine yards. 

“I’ll look for a new one this week.” You turned to him, linking your arms around his neck. “Come to bed.” 

Kento’s hands perched just over your hips, nestled peacefully, consciously. He never said a word, though you weren’t sure if it was just the lack of sleep. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against yours ever so softly, the lightest pressure. 

The relief you had whenever he’d place his forehead to yours was as inviting as a warm bed, or a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day. Something you’d forgotten for a long while before you both met. 

A gesture so kind, you took for granted. 

He didn’t leave your side until morning. 

It had been raining. Gloomy and depressive weather making the entire world darker. Kento marched downstairs whilst you had made coffee, still in your robe, and barely making coherent sentences.

“Don’t forget, my flight is this weekend for the Tech group convention in Tokyo. Have you got everything you need before I go?” 

You hadn’t forgotten. And what you always needed when he left for a trip was security systems for the house, emergency numbers and all the dead bolts an English pub would ever need.

You groaned in response, yawning away, prepping his thermos to go before he left. You waited for him to leave so you could bolt the door and spend your entire day off in bed watching terrible shows. 

Kento kissed your temple, lingering a little longer than usual, his scent still there from the shower last night, citrus and honeysuckle. 

“If you need anything. Call me right away.” Taking his briefcase, he left, heading for the front door with purpose. 

“I will, Love.” You said, waving him off and sipping your own cup of coffee. 

The door clicked shut, and you took what you needed upstairs and snuggled in for the day. What you didn’t count on, was falling asleep, only to be woken up by a constant buzzing of the doorbell. 

“Coming!” 

Trying to make yourself presentable for whoever it was, was a joke. Your robe was dishevelled from post-nap, hair in a frizz with a blocked nose. But you combed your fingers through anyway, patting down fabric and pulled down your pyjama top by the time you reached the front door. 

But no one was there. 

No shadow at the glass of the lamp lights that came on, or half damp note from the rain crumpled in the letter box, no explanation of who rang the bell. You pressed yourself against the glass to see better, but the top of the steps were empty, devoid of the mailman or courier company. But it was empty.

Therefore somewhat safe to open.

Roses. A dozen roses were perched on the step with a note, shivering in the stormy wind, calling to you to be cared for and picked up. 

A rose for every moment I thought of you today.

The note was signed, Your husband. A tad formal. But there were times Kento would take on the serious role of having his entire life together and do things like what you had in your hand. 

Rehoming the roses, you kicked the door shut and put the chain on. The phone screen came to life and you called your husband. 

“Hey, I didn’t expect you to call today. Is everything alright?” 

“I know you’re at work but I had to thank you for the roses, Love. They’re beautiful. ” 

Kento paused at first, uncertainty in his voice. “I didn’t send anything today. Could it be a colleague?”  

You paused, reading the note over and over again. Eyes bouncing back to the note and the front door. 

Kento must have picked up on your silence. “Talk to me.” 

“It must just be a wrong delivery, right?” 

You picked up the roses, taking them back to the front door with the phone balanced between your shoulder and ear. 

“It could be. Can you hold out until I’m home?”  

You nodded to no one, opening the door and putting the roses back quickly, slamming it again with the chain on it.

“Y-yeah. I’ll be fine. I’ll leave you to it. See you tonight.” The phone line dropped and you were alone again, hyper vigilant and on edge. 

That chain on the door wouldn’t stop him. He’d probably pull it off and try to choke me with it and then Ken would find my body after work.  

The door rattled with the wind. The chain clacking away at the old wood in a mocking fashion. There were many things he had used before. A sadistic display of affection that left more than physical scars. 

A crash of thunder set your ass alight, sending you running upstairs and climbing under the covers like a lost child. The heat of your breath prickled your skin, adding a singed layer of tingles under the robe you just ran in. You could only see a slither of the door, but even that was too much. 

So you closed your eyes. And ended up falling asleep again. 

The phone rang, ripping you from sleep, Kento’s name flashed up on the screen. 

“H-hello?” You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, yawning in the cocoon of sheets.

“I’m sorry I woke you, Darling. I’ll be home shortly, can you get the door unlocked?” 

“Yeah- Yeah of course.” You jumped up out of bed, still dishevelled and sleepy. “I’ll be right down.”

“Thanks.”  

“See you soon.” You ended the call and ran to your closet, trying to find anything to make yourself at least a little bit presentable for your husband. 

Something caught your eye, a dress. A dress laid out on the back of the desk chair across the room. A red dress. You don't remember getting that out, you’d even forgotten that you had that dress, a cocktail type off the shoulder. 

You remembered now and it made you smile, one of the dresses you first wore on your dates with your husband. Blinking that away, you took the dress and put it back into your closet, unsure of why you took it out in the first place.

You settled for a sweater, something to keep you warm, smoothed down your hair and wiped your face. The door was still chained and the bolt still bolted, you unlocked them and waited. Kento soon knocked and jingled his keys to let you know it was him, he unlocked it and stepped in, looking more tired than usual. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, moving in for a closer look.

“Yeah, just a long day.” He dropped his bag and enveloped you in his arms. “Glad I’m home.”

Reciprocating, you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling into his chest, breathing his smell in. “I’m glad you’re home too. Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “Let’s enjoy the evening, we can talk about it later. Why don’t you order and I’ll get us some wine?”

Wine sounds perfect.  

The food was too, both of you sat in blissful silence, enjoying eachothers company. Something was amiss though, you couldn't help but run it over in your mind as you ate, Kento hadn’t spoken about work, you were growing increasingly anxious, he always mentioned work, no matter how hard the day had been. 

“What happened today Kento?”

His eyes darted up to meet yours, you never called him by his full name anymore, not for a long while. “Nothing, Darling. I just want to enjoy you tonight. No work. No distractions.”

You hitched a breath. “In what way?”

“I’ll run us a bath, shall I? Perhaps it’s better if I just show you.”

Where did this come from? You weren't complaining, but it was odd for Kento to be so forward, usually a series of touches, compliments and sweet nothings. Not a request so out there, his eyes were hungry, burning through you until he stood up and left. 

You sat there, mouth open wide at the lewd nature and suggestiveness of it all. And like magic, the bath water splashed upstairs, the filling bathtub already so wet, so… alluring. You tried your best not to make too much noise as you ran upstairs, trying to not appear too eager, but you were, you always were when your husband showered you with affection. 

Kento was still dressed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, splashing the water around, bubbling up the churning foam. The bubble bath sat staring at you on the deep shelf built around the bath to Kento’s specifications, people always said someone could sleep on it because it was so deep. Kento noticed you in the doorway and grabbed a towel to dry his hands. Then he took his tie off, slowly, a sultry fashion and never taking his eyes off of you.  

“You're wearing too many articles of clothing. Let me help you.” 

He pulled off the sweater, your top half only in a bra with goosebumps as he ran his fingers up your arms. The straps fell down, he had hooked them with his fingertips and knelt down. One button, then the next, undone on your jeans and they slid down past your thighs to which he kissed, pecked at slowly and only got lower until your feet were out with nothing but your underwear. 

You had said nothing, still speechless at the display. The bath water ran still, filling up the room with steam and lust, fogging up the reflective surfaces. You approached your husband now, taking your turn to undress him.

You took your time, pulling one button after the next on his shirt, pop, pop, pop, each one revealed another section of his chest, and each part of him you pressed your lips against, taking as much time as he did. You took off his pants too, pulling his belt away with a whip, a crack to break through the tension building up in that small, heated room. 

Each quick movement garnered a barely audible moan from his lips, he too had goosebumps crawling up his chest despite the temperature change, hard and buff his chest was and it rose erratically as he watched you and you him, now both undressed completely. 

The water stopped and Kento didn't have to ask or say a word to you to get into the water with him. The surface of water was still as glass when you dipped your toe into it and met that horrid sting of heat that was so good it was addictive. He climbed in too, settling himself behind you and took a sponge to keep your shoulders covered with the stinging trickled water.  

“You’re so beautiful.” He was whispering sweet nothings, squeezing that sponge so delicately you could tell how much he was holding back. 

“Am I?” 

“Yes.” 

“How so?” 

You could have sworn in all your teasing that Kento growled. Though barely a sound, the raspy nature was deafening against your back to his chest. “I could list one hundred things or talk until the water cools, but in short you’re beautiful in every way. Especially riding my cock while you're soapy and wet.” 

Kento Nanami surprised you completely tonight. You almost choked on the air you breathed along with the sudden wetness between your legs and heat that was far higher than the bath water. 

The water trickled over your breast and nipple, the sensitive skin far more heightened, Kento pulled his hand up and groped you, squeezing and massaging to give you building tenseness, dragging out while he continued to talk you off the sensual ledge.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Uh huh.” The first thing to leave your lips.

Tweaking your nipple gained a yelp which echoed in the wet room. “Use your words Darling, I couldn’t understand you.”

“Y-yes. I’d like that.”

“Really? 

“Yes.”

You thought about that night for days. How Kento fucked you in that bathroom making the room steamier. He had cleared the ledge of bottles and products, swiped them away like nothing and didn’t shy away from the clanking and series of bangs that led.

He sat there, pulling you out of the water, still soapy, wet like he’d asked. The surface was chilled on your knees whilst sat on his lap, his cock already hard, your cunt dripping with the words he whispered laced in the deepest fucking depths of filthy pits. So filthy it made you blush.

You thought about the kisses he gave you, full tongue inside your cheek, teeth brushing and erotic, so unlike Kento. He was slow, agonisingly so, sensual enough to make you beg. But that night, Kento was like an animal, full of passion and strength holding you there to stop you falling while you bounced on his cock, moaning and drunk on your high. 

Three times. He made you come three times in that bathroom. Twice only using his mouth. You were sure he wasn't going to let you sleep that night, you almost collapsed and begged him to stay off of work the next day, but he had to go.

It wasn’t long after that he had to leave for his work trip which took its toll on you, staying by yourself, alone. You counted down the hours, minutes and yet there always seemed to be more that you realised to come and go before Kento was back again.

“Call me if there is anything you want to discuss, or just need an ear.” Kento had said before he left, kissing your forehead and reluctantly heading towards the front door to leave. 

You knew he didnt want to go, you could tell in his body language, his tone. You had come to know him well enough when he didn’t want to do something, his eyebrows would dip ever so slightly in a fashion that was almost a frown but he fought to hide it. 

Not from you though. 

You kept thinking of reasons to call him, but there was no reason other than asking about how he was doing and you knew you would just be a burden. 

That was until he called you, but you missed that call, and the next and three more times after that while you were in the shower. 

You didn’t notice until you were downstairs in the kitchen, hair still damp. “Shit.” 

As soon as you placed your ear to your phone, the door knocked. Kento must have come home early, that’s why he had called, shit he must have been waiting out there for you for ages. 

You unbolted and unlatched the door. “Sorry love, I didn’t know you called-“

“Hey.”

Satoru. Not Kento.

After all these years. 

You slammed the door in his face. But he was quicker. So much quicker. You were down on the floor in an instant, his hand cupped around your mouth. The front door was wide open, a giant notch in the wall from the force of the door. Satoru kicked and it slammed, cracking at the hinges and splitting the wood with all his power. 

“Did y’know how long it took to find you? You really are a hard girl to track down.”

You couldn’t speak, he’d knocked all the air out of your lungs, but your flight response couldn’t work as he pinned you down and placed his hand over your mouth. 

But your fight response miraculously was functional, for only a moment. You bit him, teeth sank deep into his hand drawing blood into your mouth, iron and sickly warmth made you close to vomiting, but it didn’t phase him.

“You wanna play that game do ya?” Satoru pulled you up to your feet and pulled you into the kitchen, blood gushed from his hand like water, pumping in time with his heart, but he didn’t seem to care.

“S-Satoru, please let me go, leave!” 

“Why should I leave? The parties just startin’, I couldn’t leave my girl alone; you’ve been so alone all this time. You left me alone. Now why would you do that when I treat you so well?” 

He still had a hold of you, his bleeding hand clutched in a white knuckled fist around your sweater making it stretch and show your bra. 

He noticed immediately. “Is that matching? You wore matching underwear for me?” 

“K-Kento will be back soon and h-he’ll call the police, please leave!” You were almost incoherent raising your hands up to strike him, not that it did anything. 

Satoru’s laugh, his frightening laugh split through you like a jigsaw blade. “Kento? Ooh scary. You decide to drop me and he takes my used goods?”

Shaking your head didn’t help, fighting him off didn’t work either, he stayed where he was, a brick wall. 

“I know he’s away for a few days, who do you think sent you those flowers, baby?” 

“What?… He’s not I’ll call him and prove it-“

Satoru grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. “It’s funny you still think you can lie to me.”

The charging cable in the wall outlet there. That’s what he’ll use to choke me and no one will find me until Kento is home.

He could cut my throat open like this. So easily. 

All he would need was a knife if he didn’t have one already, a quick flick and slice and you’d bleed out all over the floor. It was that if he didn’t asphyxiate you first.

“I’m not lying. I’m not. He called me, he’s on his way home I swear- ouch!” He pulled tighter, further back than your neck could handle. 

He could snap your neck with a quick twist. 

“Oh, he called you? He must have gotten my message then. Arw, is that why he fucked you so hard last time before he left? He knew I was here and didn’t tell you? Some boyfriend he is-“ Something made him stop, the pause lasted a lifetime. 

Taking your left hand in his, he recognised what you had on your finger. “Husband… You fucking bitch.”

“Ow! Let me go please Satoru. I won't tell anyone, please. Please stop it!” 

“You marry him even though you know how much I love you? Is this some cheap ploy to make me jealous? Cause it’s working.” 

He pushed you away and you slapped against the tiled floor of the kitchen, just like that day all those years ago, just like before when Satoru stood over you, looking like that storm cloud, ready to rain shit and copious triggers to squander all the progress you had made. 

“You don’t love me, y-you just want to own me a-and I don’t want that. Not that.” The shockwave caused trembles, stinging right through your wrists and knees.

“I know everything about you, what makes you weak at the knees for me. Does he?”

Yes he did. Kento Nanami was everything that Satoru Gojo wasn’t and that was how you liked it. There was nothing, no amount of money Satoru could throw at you to make your mind different, no experiences that would change your outlook. 

“You made me weak, Satoru. Look at me, I’m a mess, you did this to me.”

“No you got it wrong. You’re nothing without me, look at you. You’ve suffered being so far away from me, I get it, but enough is enough, you’re going to come home with me like it was before. It better be like it was before, because I won’t let you go again, I told you how things would end up if I had to share you.” 

He stood there with his lip curled up in a snarl, so serious it made his cheerfully playful side a cake walk. That side that someone would see at a distance and say ‘typical Satoru!’ and carry on with life was dead, the husk of a man with violence on his mind stood before you. 

You pushed it anyway.

“I was nothing with you Satoru! You hid me away like it was meant to prove something. I hate you, I hate you so much!”

“I love you!” His exclamation ripped through the air, gutting it through like the deer carcass during open season, deadly and dreadful. 

You cowered there on the floor waiting. He would use something to end you, that was what he said would happen after all. Maybe the knife block, there were plenty of shapes and sizes to choose from, even Kento’s fish knife, that would slice through you and you probably wouldn’t even feel it at first it was so sharp. 

Or maybe just with his bare hands, it would take longer based on the true crime shows you had watched, but his hands fit around your neck and could crush your windpipe after you would pass out. 

That was a preferred method no matter how scary both of them were. You just prayed it wasn’t messy, contained.

It would break your heart if Kento came home and saw a horrific scene splashed about in the kitchen. 

I hope I look asleep. 

Satoru was going to murder you in your own house.

Huffing a sigh of frustration, he crouched down, wiping the blood from his hand away from your face, running down your cheeks like tears you would have shed. “I tell you what, for old time sakes before you come back with me. Why don’t we play another game of hide and seek?” 

Perfect. 

“Okay, okay let’s do that.” After agreeing to your death, this was far more favourable and a rare chance in his own stupidity. 

You were more prepared now, taking precautions to keep all previous mistakes in the past where they belonged. 

His chipper self unsettled you, he pulled a towel from a drawer. “Oh you are eager, aren’t you? Well go on then baby, I’ll wrap my hand up and come find ya.” Then his eyes darkened, just like before. “Good luck.” 

You shot up in a heartbeat, never looking back to see whether it was a trap, or a ploy to hurt you. You just ran, straight to your room, the one of many with a lock deadbolt on it. 

There was no point in hiding or keeping quiet because he would always find you, so now you didn’t bother and your adrenaline pushed your fear back for a moment as you slid the bolt with a clang. 

“Fuck, fuck! Shit- compose yourself.” You ran to the window and rummaged in the tiny box in the windowsill pulling out a small key. It had its place in the wall underneath to unlock a latch. 

The latch came free and two panels sat there, steel and heavy duty but light weight that fit perfectly over the windows, that fucker wouldn’t get through the window again. 

Kento dismissed the need when you asked, not understanding why you wanted them even though he claimed to after a while of you asking. It was really a way to settle you because he loved you, but you still often wondered if you had gone too far. 

Clearly not.

Though there was one thing that Kento did do for you. 

“That son of a bitch won’t use much force. He thinks you’re too weak to even need it, I know the type. So keep him thinking that. It’s all about power, so don’t give it to him.” A gun in the locked safe, Kento had shown you how to use it himself.

You loaded it, pulled it back and waited for a sign, you ran to your bedside table and pulled a phone from it, a small cheap thing with a card in it only for calls if your real one was indisposed. You dialled the three numbers and waited, your eyes trained in your door.

“Police please… Y-yes, there’s an intruder in my house and I’ve shot him a lot. H-he just kept coming w-what do I do?… okay. I’ll wait but I’m losing signal.” You gave your address quickly and hung up. 

“This isn’t much fun baby, I already know where you are! Do you really wanna go down this route again? Look at what happened last time!”

Satoru banged on the door, his muffled laughs still so clear. “This is much more sturdy than last time, should I just kick it in?”

“Don’t come in here Satoru! I mean it!” You dialled the phone again, this time Kento picked up. “No time love; he’s here, I’m in the bedroom.” 

“I tried calling, do you have the gun? I’m on my way home. I'll be there soon, remember what I told you.” 

History was repeating itself no matter how hard you tried to change it, the phone call, that maniac outside your door. He was going to take you again, keep you away and you’d never see Kento again. 

You tried your hardest not to let your thoughts show but your voice broke. “I’m sorry love, I love you so much. I tried. I really tried.” You couldn’t bare to hear him call after you when you pressed the red button to end the call. 

Tap, tap, tap it went. “C’mon baby, you hurt my hand real bad, will you nurse it for me?”

“Don’t come through this fucking door! I’m fucking serious!”

“Arw you're so cute when you’re trying to be assertive! Will you boss me around some more? We’ve got the bed in there, maybe you can tell me what to do, huh?”

The knocks turned into bashes, thud with pure raw power behind them that the wood began to splinter. The top bolt of the door popped off and let some space through. 

“Just open the door love, it’ll be a hell of a lot easier to open it from the inside instead of makin’ me do all the work.” 

This was it. As soon as he walks through that door. 

With an almighty wallop, the door bounced from the wall when Satoru kicked it in, you didn’t give him a chance to speak, to pull an epilogue from his ass to waste time to get the upper hand, you just shot him. 

Twice at first. One more for good measure. 

He dropped fast like bricks in a swimming pool, there wasn’t even enough time to wear a shocked expression lying face down on the floor unmoving, dead hopefully. 

You watched carefully for breathing, but found none. Holy fucking shit, you had just killed someone. You weren’t sure how long you watched him, how long you had your gun trained on him because you kept telling yourself he would get back up and ruin you, take you and drown you in the bathtub, only god knew how long he would have had to do that because the police took their time. 

It wasn’t until you went downstairs and sat outside on the porch stairs to wait for them, the red and blue lights flashed down the street and illuminated the porch. A black car arrived too, you husband jumped out quicker than the police did. 

“Darling, you’re safe.” He kneeled down and took your cheek in his hand. “Where is he? Is he inside?” 

The police rushed past and entered the house leaving you two outside. Shock had set in and you didn’t want to speak, if you opened your mouth, there was an incredibly high chance you would vomit. 

Kento tugged at your hands and fiddled with your sweater, neatening you up before his handkerchief slid over your skin to clean the red away. 

Satoru Gojo was dead. You were free.

“Check the back yard again, there’s no one in the house. It’s clear.” 

What? 

It was what?

“I shot him. He was dead. I watched him for ages, there’s blood on the floor; he wasn’t breathing.” Shock reverted back to adrenaline. “No, he’s dead.” You sprinted upstairs leaving everyone behind. 

He’s dead.  

He has to be dead.  

Please let him be dead.  

The bedroom was empty, no one laid on the floor but the stained carpet soaked with blood. Blood was on the wall too that wasn’t there before. 

That said, ‘NEXT TIME.’

Satoru was gone and he wasn’t going to stop. It wasn’t going to stop until the both of you were dead. 

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[finn95o]

Same, same, but different

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Regret |6|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Tara laid with her head rested on your chest, just listening to your steady heartbeat. She knew she should be on edge, Ghostface was back, they didn’t have time to waste. As soon as the three of you got back to the apartment though, it seemed all three of you agreed to just take the rare moment and rest. Tara let you take a shower first and by the time she was done you were changed and sprawled out on the bed.

Tara only hesitated for a second to curl up next to you. The two of you were fine in a life-or-death situation but this was the first time either of you had a break since the attacks. As soon as you opened your eyes, you gave her that look, the despite being half sleepy you were still very aware of when she entered the room, that look. That’s all it took for Tara to lay down next to you. She would have jumped on the bed and tackled you with a hug, but you had a long night.

Tara glance up at you, you fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as your arm wrapped around Tara. She wasn’t sure how you did it, you endured so much, even before all the stuff with Ghostface. Tara’s life wasn’t great, at least in terms of family, but yours was just as bad. You actually had it worse in some ways. Tara had Chad, Mindy, their mom, then of course Wes and his mom, she even had Amber. You didn’t have anyone though, you sort of had Dewey, but it wasn’t in the same way, he wasn’t a parental figure to you at the time, he just saw a kid who needed help.

Then you learned the truth about your family, you practically found them and lost them in the same day. Gale was still around but Tara wasn’t sure how that relationship would evolve, if it ever did. Though her motives were selfish there was a part of Tara that saw what Gale did as protecting you. If people knew you were Gale and Dewey’s kid you would have been in danger, you probably would have been part of the attacks back in 2011, you were only in middle school then. And as if to prove her theory correctly as soon as the truth was discovered you were a target, it seemed that no matter what, you would have been dragged into this mess, whether it was because you were related to Dewey and Gale or because you were dating Tara, it seemed inevitable for you to become a target.

Despite everything though you still put Tara first. You didn’t care where the two of you moved as long as Tara was happy, that’s what you always told her. You said you wanted her to choose where she wanted to go to college, and you’d just happily follow along. Tara knew you didn’t particularly care about Woodsboro, besides her, you didn’t have anyone there, but you still didn’t seem to be bothered about having to uproot your life and start all over.

It wasn’t an excuse but one of the reason Tara missed the signs that you were hurting was because you simply didn’t let her see. You walked around the city with her, despite the obvious pain you had to have been in. You went to parties with her, even though you hated them. Tara was sure the main reason for the parties was to keep an eye on her, but you still tried to have fun, you let Tara drag you around, you danced with her, you did it all when Tara was sure you’d rather be back home, cuddled up watching a movie together.

“You’re thinking too loud,” your raspy voice came, breaking Tara out of her thoughts. Your eyes barely opened as you looked down at her. “What’s on your mind?”

“How amazing you are,” Tara whispered. You rolled your eyes as if you thought she was joking. “I’m serious,” she rolled over, so half her body was over you, but she was not able to look you in the eye. “You’re perfect.”

Your hand brushed the a few stray hair that fell into her eyes back behind her ear. “I’m hardly perfect.”

“Well, compared to me you are,” her eyes fell in shame.

When Tara found it in herself to look at you again you were frowning. “I’ve been a shitty girlfriend,” Tara whispered.

“You haven’t-”

“Yes,” she cut you off. “I have. I’ve been terrible to you.”

“You haven’t.” Tara rolled her eyes, you made it nearly impossible to argue with you, especially when it came to Tara trying to talk bad about herself. “We go on dates, we’ve seen the city,” you went from frowning to giving her a loving smile.

“I’ve been ignoring your problems.” Your frown was quick to return. It seemed as though the only thing Tara was good at lately was hurting you. “You’ve been hurting and all I’ve been is selfish.” Tara averted her gaze; she attempted to blink away her tears, but it was clear she failed when she felt your thumb brush against her cheek. “You deserve better.”

“It’s not your fault.” Tara closed her eyes; you still weren’t hearing her it seemed. She couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “A lot happened to you; you’ve been dealing with just as much shit.”

“No, I haven’t,” Tara shook her head.

As much as she said she was fine and refused to see someone, Tara wasn’t dealing with it. Tara hadn’t dealt with any of it since it happened. Her solution was just to pretend everything was fine, act as if her best friend didn’t try and kill her, act as if none of it happened as if everything were normal. Tara was sure she’d go to parties if the attack never happened, but she wouldn’t be doing it as much as she currently was. She saw parties as a way to escape and drink her problems away, if she drank enough then maybe she wouldn’t have nightmares. The only thing that seemed to stop the nightmares though, was you. Even if she still got woken up from one, nothing brought her more comfort then knowing you were right there holding her.

“You never talk about Dewey,” she said as soft as she could, though it still didn’t seem to be enough with the way your entire body went rigid at his name. “I never asked because I didn’t want to cause you anymore pain.”

She should have asked you about it. Maybe deep down the real reason she didn’t ask was because she knew it would involve talking about everything else that happened. She still should have asked, she shouldn’t have been selfish. You always put her first, the very least she could have done is ask how you were doing after everything that happened. Maybe you wanted to talk about it but because Tara didn’t ask and pretended everything was alright, you pushed everything down.

“You can talk about him,” she said, another tear rolling down her cheek. “I never want you to feel like you can’t, not with me. I know it hasn’t seemed like it, but I will be here for you.” She rested a hand on your chest, right over your heart. “You can even talk about Gale,” Tara added. “If you want.”

Her little joke seemed to work because you huffed out a laugh, but she could feel the vibrations through her body. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet,” you whispered but there was a soft smile on your face.

Your smile soon fell, and you furrowed your brow. Tara waited to see what it was you were thinking, you were clearly contemplating something important. “I’m,” you whispered, your voice much smaller than before. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk about…” you swallowed and began blinking rapidly.

“It’s okay,” Tara assured. “Whenever you are. Just know, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

“You never have to thank me.” She reached up to caress your cheek “But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to be the kind of girlfriend you deserve.”

“Things have been…” you sucked in a breath as you seemed to search for the word you wanted. “Off with us lately.” Tara couldn’t help but scoff, that was certainly putting it nicely, she had been horrible. If the roles were reversed and she was treating herself this way she would have certainly broken up with herself. “But never think you’re not good enough.”

Tara laid her head back down on your chest, closing her eyes as she focused on your heartbeat again. She couldn’t help but lightly brush her fingers across the bandage on your arm, making sure to avoid the area the cut was.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt because of me,” she whispered.

“I don’t intend to leave you any time soon,” you whispered, your grip around her tightening, as if you could somehow pull her even closer. “But I won’t let you get hurt again. I-I can’t,” your voice cracked. “I can’t see you like that again.”

“Lets just…” Tara sighed, she wasn’t sure what she could say to that, how she could comfort you. “Rest right now.”

That seemed to work because within minutes Tara noticed how your breathing evened out and your heartbeat became steady again. Sam was home, no one would get past her and Tara was in your arms right now, the safest place she could possibly be. Tara took the moment and closed her eyes, there was no telling how long this moment would last, Ghostface could attack at any time, and anyone could be lost in a moment.

Tara knew things weren’t completely back to normal with the two of you. The two of you talked but she still had a lot of work to do. She couldn’t just promise you she’d be better, she had to actually do it, she had to show you that she could be better. The first step would be surviving this new psycho. Then, when the two of you made it out of this, she would work every day to be the best girlfriend possible.

Finally, several minutes after you fell asleep Tara found herself drifting off. She tightened her grip around you, holding onto as tight as she could as if she were afraid, you’d slip away. Tara didn’t realize how long it had been since the two of you just laid together like this. You always slept next to each other and cuddled, but it had been a long time since either of you had been at ease like you currently were. Tara fell back into a comfort she didn’t know she had been missing, despite the current circumstances, Tara was somehow the most at ease she had been since last year.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrry-lov3 @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

[luvv4j4ybe11]

I'm tired of being horny,I want love😭😭

can you give us some fluff headcanons with teyam,please??🥹

YES OML! I love writing headcanons sm😭

Warnings~ none! Enjoy the fluff everyone<3

★ Neteyam is the type of mate to make you stay in bed on a rainy day, no matter if you guys have things to do or not. He just loves spending time with his girl.

★ speaking of which, his family completely adores you. They’re always asking for you to come over and spend time with them(mostly neytiri and Jake saying this bc you’re literally like a daughter to them)

★ tey absolutely ADORES whenever you spend time with his family, especially his siblings and ESPECIALLYY with tuk, you act so well with all of them that it makes him want to give you a family of your own.

★ his love language is definitely acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch. So definitely expect to be gifted with things you’ve always wanted while he’s hugging you and whispering all sorts of praises and I love yous into your ear.

★(this hc is for human!reader) if your ovulating/on your period, he will never leave your side, always giving you whatever you need since he knows how painful your periods can be. (And also because your smell gets stronger, and he doesn’t want any of the males in his clan thinking they have a chance with you. Because they don’t.)

★ speaking of this, he definitely is extremely protective of you. Like, yes he knows you’re fully capable of handling yourself, but he just can’t help it. You’re his girl, how could he not protect you?

★ if you need an example of how far this man would go for you, just remember that one time where he came home with bloody fists and a bloody nose because he overheard a group of boys sexualizing you(lo’ak jumped into the fight too bc he didn’t want to hear you or his parents lecture him about leaving Neteyam by himself to get beat tf up😭)

★turns into such a baby when he’s tired. Poor boy will come home completely exhausted, it’s so obvious in his features it makes you sad. He’ll grumble when you ask him how his day was, hurriedly taking off his uncomfortable garments and picking you up and carrying you to the bed, placing you down on the soft pillows before placing all of his body weight onto you. You let out a little huff from the suddenness of it, but it turns into a giggle when you feel him smoosh his head into your boobs.

★“Awh, what needy little babyboy. Just needed some cuddles, hm?” You’d tease while placing a kiss on his forehead, left hand rubbing his scalp soothingly as your other hand trails down his back in a content motion.

★(hc for modern!au) you guys would definitely do a whole bunch of couple TikTok’s tg, and literally everyone loves you guys sm

★ would secretly learn all your favorite foods and make them whenever your sad/on your birthday.

★ does this thing if your walking past a group of people that make you uncomfortable, he’ll put himself between you and the group, so he’s acting as a barrier almost

★ loves the sound of your voice/laugh so much, And it SHOWSSSS. lo’ak made fun of him one time because teyams tail started wagging when you laughed at a joke he made

★ also loves carrying you/manhandling you (gently ofc) js bc he likes to see the surprise on your face whenever he does. All those years of training and building his strength being put to use frl🙌🏼 he also does it bc he has a strength kink and size kink..BUT WE ARENT GONNA GET INTO THAT!!

★he has a sweet spot in the middle of his scalp that makes him purr really loud and kick his leg slightly, you found out about it one of the many times he fell asleep on your chest. You never told him you knew about it though because you know he’d probably get embarrassed, but whenever he does fall asleep on your chest you always massage that spot just to giggle at his reaction.

★(black!reader hc..so me!) love to play with your hair and braid it, also loves to participate in your wash days. Like this mf will be more hyped to wash your hair than you are(you barley lift a finger during your wash days because he insists you just sit down and relax while he does everything)

★ made a wash day playlist with all your favorite songs on your phone without you knowing, so when you asked him where the playlist came from he just giggled at you before telling you where it came from. (You cried and hugged him because..he’s a fucking sweetheart?)

★ always talks about starting a family with you, and the look in this man’s eyes whenever he talks about it is completely adorable. You’re literally the love of this man’s life

A/N~ I need a man like teyam frl🥹 also I’m flattered you guys love my neteyam works sm, it really means the world to me<3 but could we mayhaps send in requests for different characters? I’d love to hear what you guys have in mind for them. Other than that tho, stay safe and hydrated. I love you guys sm💕

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Taglist~ @tallulah477 , @hotdsworld , @itchaboi-itchyboy , @blue-slxt , @etherial-moon-blog , @criticallybella , @rivatar , @aperiraa , @professional-yapper , @plooto

(If you’d like to be added to or removed from my general taglist, lmk by commenting on this post or sending me a dm! And if your tag isn’t working please check your settings💕)

[deerlino]

DENYING THE OBVIOUS

— “i'm not falling in love,” he says, while he's actually falling the hardest. minho's in such deep denial, it's like he's drowning in the nile.

words ༯ 0.8k / pairing ༯ lee minho x gn!reader / tags ༯ best friends to lovers (kinda), childhood friends, mutual pining, fluff, humor, teasing & banter, arcade games, unspoken feelings, slice of life / content warnings ༯ fluff and more fluff !

a/n ༯ eh, this one's not my top-notch work, had a few bumps and hiccups, but hey, it's alright. took me ages to write tho. 😭 wanted to really nail that denial part, but i guess it's decent enough. hope you still got a kick out of it ! <3

“I’m not falling in love,” he says.

You stare at Minho, half-smirking, half-annoyed. He’s sprawled out on your bed, flipping through one of your old comic books, pretending he’s way cooler than he actually is. His hair is a mess—he’s too lazy to even run a hand through it properly. You roll your eyes.

“Sure, Minho. Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you say, tossing a pillow at his face. He barely dodges it, laughing. It’s that laugh that makes your heart skip a beat, but you refuse to admit it.

“Why would I be falling for you?” he teases, grinning. “You’re like... my best friend. And you’re a pain in the ass.”

You snort. “Right back at you, loser.”

He sits up, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “Let’s be real. If anyone’s falling, it’s definitely not me. I’m the epitome of self-control.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, right. You cried watching Toy Story 3.”

“Hey, that was emotional!” he protests, eyes wide in mock offense. “Andy grew up, okay? It’s relatable.”

“Sure, sure,” you say, shaking your head. You grab your phone and plop down beside him, scrolling through your messages. He leans over, way too close, trying to peek at your screen.

“Who’s texting you?” he asks, curious.

You nudge him away. “Nosy much? It’s just my mom.”

“Tell her I say hi,” he says, leaning back on his elbows.

You do, and your mom’s quick reply makes you giggle. “Tell Minho he’s still grounded for breaking my favorite vase last year.”

“Mom says you’re still grounded,” you say, showing him the message. He laughs again, this time falling back onto the bed, clutching his stomach.

“Man, your mom’s got a long memory.”

“Yup,” you agree. “So, Mr. Epitome of Self-Control, what’s the plan for today?”

He sits up, his eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint you know all too well. “Let’s go to the arcade. I bet I can beat your high score on Dance Dance Revolution.”

“You wish!” you exclaim, jumping up. “You couldn’t beat me if your life depended on it.”

As you both head out, the playful banter continues. At the arcade, it’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you, Minho, and the flashing lights of the game machines. You watch as he concentrates intensely on the dance mat, his tongue sticking out slightly. You can’t help but think he looks kinda cute like that. Not that you’d ever tell him.

“Ha! Beat that!” he shouts, pointing at his score. It’s higher than yours by a mere point. You roll your eyes.

“Beginner’s luck,” you mutter, stepping up to the mat. He watches you, that goofy grin still plastered on his face. You nail the moves, one by one, beating his score by a landslide.

“Told ya,” you say, smugly.

He pouts, crossing his arms. “Okay, okay. You win this time. But next time, you’re going down.”

As you both leave the arcade, he drapes an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. It’s a casual gesture, something he’s done a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels different. Warmer. More... significant.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asks, steering you towards the diner down the street. It’s your usual spot, a place that holds countless memories. As you slide into your favorite booth, Minho immediately starts teasing the waitress, who’s known you both since you were kids.

“Two milkshakes, please. Extra whipped cream for her because she’s extra,” he says, winking at you.

You stick your tongue out at him. “And fries. Don’t forget the fries.”

When the food arrives, you both dig in, talking about everything and nothing. It’s easy, comfortable. But there’s an undercurrent of something more. Something unspoken.

“Do you ever think about the future?” he asks suddenly, looking at you with those deep, thoughtful eyes.

You pause, a fry halfway to your mouth. “Sometimes. Why?”

He shrugs, looking away. “I dunno. Just wondering what it’ll be like. If we’ll still be... like this.”

“Like what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He fiddles with his straw, avoiding your gaze. “You know. Best friends. Hanging out all the time.”

“Of course,” you say, nudging his foot under the table. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

He finally looks at you, a soft smile on his lips. “Yeah. You’re right.”

You both finish your food, and as you walk home, the silence between you is comfortable. His hand brushes against yours a few times, and each time, your heart skips a beat.

Back at your house, you sit on the porch, watching the stars. Minho leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, looking up at the sky.

“Thanks for tonight,” he says quietly.

You glance at him, surprised. “For what?”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “Just... for being you.”

Your heart flutters, and you find yourself smiling. “Anytime, Minho. Anytime.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and for a moment, it’s as if the world stands still. Then he breaks the gaze, looking embarrassed.

“Okay, seriously, I’m not falling in love,” he insists again, more to himself than to you.

You laugh, shaking your head. “Keep telling yourself that, idiot.”

But as you both sit there, the night wrapping around you like a warm blanket, you know the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he does too.

© deerlino (est. 040624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[moonstruckme]

would u maybe be willing to write remus with a reader who also has scars? not from anything in particular just more than the average joe (i personally have quite a few scars from years of sports and having acne and a skin condition, so really the cause can be anything u want) and they take care of eachother? they have a routine they do together and they put lotion and bio oil on for eachother <3

Thanks for requesting!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 831 words

“Remus?” He looks past himself in the mirror to find you standing in the doorway to the bathroom, hair wet from the shower you’d taken before his. You’re holding your hands the way you do when you’re feeling tentative. 

He turns around and makes his voice extra soothing to assuage it. “Yeah, dovey?” 

“What do you…what are you doing, when you rub that stuff on your face?” 

He blinks, looking down at the small container in his hand. “This? It’s oil. It’s for my scars.” 

You take a hesitant step forward. Your brow wrinkles. “Like, to make them go away?” 

He smiles wistfully. “No. I don’t think anything can make them go away, honey. This just makes them less…obvious.” 

You smile, walking up to him with a bit more confidence. “Oh, good. Can I try some?” 

Remus raises his brows. “What for?” 

“I have scars,” you say, almost defensively. “They’re not as cool as yours, but I have them.” 

A little laugh escapes him. Cool. “You mean like the ones on your knees?” 

You nod, taking the oil from him and reading the bottle. “Yeah, like those.” 

“Sure, hop up here.” He pats the counter, and you follow his instructions readily, twisting around to jump up and setting your back against the mirror. You’re wearing your pajama shorts, your bare knees brushing the material of the towel around his waist. 

“This better not be an excuse to get me alone half-naked,” he says quietly as he gets his lotion back out from inside the cabinet. You go bright red at the suggestion, and Remus huffs a laugh. “I knew it.” 

“Stop,” you plead, nudging him reprimandingly with your foot. “I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” 

“Only teasing,” he reaffirms what you already know. He crouches in front of you. “It’s lucky you just showered, because that’s usually when your scars need it most. Your skin is all dried out from the water.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say sardonically, but there’s a bit of real self-consciousness to your voice. Remus strokes his thumb over your knee placatingly. 

“It’s okay. That’s why we start with lotion, to moisturize it first.” He places a dollop of the lotion onto your knee, rubbing it in with his fingers. You hum in understanding, and he does the other knee too. “And then the oil, which should make the marks a bit less angry if you use it consistently.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly as he smooths the oil into the scars on your knees. Remus looks up to find you giving him a soft, open look, and he smiles, squeezing your calf lightly. 

“Of course, honey. Any other scars that need attending to?” 

“There’s some on my hands.” You’re looking at him the way you look at the moon, with a tender sort of reverence. He suspects that you don’t actually care so much about the appearance of scars on your hands so much as you want him to keep touching you, but that’s more than alright with him. 

“Yeah?” he prompts, and you hold them out in front of him. “Mm. I’ve never noticed these before.” 

“They’re not huge,” you say with a shrug. 

Remus sets to work, massaging lotion into the skin of your hands and wrists. He takes the oil again and begins applying it to the marks he can see. “Where’d this come from?” he asks, rubbing it into a cruel line down the bottom of your palm. 

“Oh, I cut myself cutting something in the kitchen one time,” you explain, somewhat embarrassedly. 

He hums sympathetically, moving to another scar just shy of your knuckle. “What about this one?” 

“I’d forgotten that a pan I’d set in the sink was still hot.” Your voice gets softer as his fingers soothe over your hands bit by bit. “I brushed the back of my hand against it without thinking.” 

A small sound escapes him, equal parts fondness and exasperation. “And these?” He thumbs over two nearly identical white lines, one just above the other on your wrist. 

 “Burned myself on the oven rack.” You look at them sheepishly. “Twice.” 

Remus huffs a laugh, finishing with the oil and bringing your arm to his chest. “So what I’m getting from this is, you’re never going into a kitchen again.”

“Hey,” you say with a smile, “a girl’s got to eat.” 

“I’ll cook for you,” he bargains. 

“Every meal?” 

“If it means keeping you from injuring yourself, yes.” 

“I might be amenable to that,” you say, looking at him consideringly, “if…you let me put this stuff on your scars for you sometimes.” 

Remus’ lips curve slightly as he leans forward, stamping them on your forehead. “It’s a deal, lovely girl. We can do it for each other, yeah?” 

“Sounds good.” You peck his cheek in return, hopping down from the counter. “So, what’s for dinner? I was going to make myself a grilled cheese, but if you’re cooking I’m thinking more along the lines of lobster bisque.”

[bookyeom]

LESLIE HIII i hope you’re doing okay!! + sorry it’s taken me so long to stop by </3

as a request i wanted to ask abt the prompt “stay there. i’m coming to get you.” from the second prompt list with either minghao or wonwoo if that’s okay!! 🫶🫶

A/N: OKAY SO @wqnwoos I know this was requested forever ago from a prompt game and I'm so sorry it took so long, but I was super inspired yesterday after I saw ur post saying "my heel broke" and I messaged u asking if you were okay because OMG your HEEL broke are you OKAY??? but turns out you meant your shoe broke not your actual heel and, well... here we are. Whatever the heck this is.

Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader Genre: slight crack?, established relationship Rating: PG (only because I think there's a swear?) Word Count: 1.4k Request Prompt: "stay there. i'm coming to get you." Warnings: like one kiss?, I think there's swearing maybe, expensive things being broken if that triggers u, also reader wears heels

You can't believe it.

So many times, you’d gazed longingly at the expensive new shoes you’d splurged on, sitting pretty in their box, wondering when you’d finally pluck up the courage to wear them. You weren’t one for spending big unless it was technology or something you’d use often, but you’d been eyeing these heels for what felt like forever. When your birthday rolled around, you’d finally done it, but then they’d sat in their box for months – until tonight.

You’d only just arrived at the restaurant to meet your friends when you’d taken one wrong step, and the heel on your right shoe had broken completely off. You’d tripped and thankfully been steadied by your friend’s arm, so you’d been left physically unscathed��� but you felt the pain elsewhere. In your wallet. How the hell had that happened so quickly?

Your friend managed to fish a pair of flats out from their trunk, so you were grateful for that at least. You tried to laugh and play it off as a joke, as a funny story to remember with your friends in a few years, but truthfully? You were pretty bummed. You’d saved for those shoes for ages. So here you sat, nursing a glass of water as you listened to your friends chat animatedly around you. You were having a good time, you were, but you couldn’t help but wallow in your feelings just a little bit. You really couldn’t believe your luck. 

You felt the buzz of your phone from inside your purse, eyeing it as you took another sip of water, before glancing around the table. Your friend group had a rule not to be on your phones very much when you were together, but you figured you were safe to have a quick peek while your friend recapped her many failed dates over the last month.

Wonwoo ❤️: how’s your evening going?

You felt your heart jump a little at the sight of your boyfriend’s name on your screen. You wondered if that would ever change, but you didn’t think so. You adored him. You’d been told the honeymoon phase would pass, but it had been well over a year and the two of you were still going strong. Wonwoo would object if you ever said it to anyone else, but the two of you were just as lovey-dovey as when you’d first started dating.

Exhibit A: him texting you to ask a very obvious question. You’re pretty well-versed in Wonwoo, and you know what his text actually means: it means that he misses you.

YN: not the best, tbh… I broke my heel 😭

The reply comes not even a minute later.

Wonwoo ❤️: are you okay?? 

YN: I’m so sad 😭

You jump a little when your friend nudges you with their foot, raising their eyebrows pointedly at your phone. You teasingly roll your eyes and oblige, sliding your phone back into your purse and tuning back into your friends’ story. You can’t help but feel a bit better after a couple of texts from Wonwoo, and you aren’t embarrassed about it in the slightest.

Not even a half hour and some entrees later, another friend is in the process of regaling tales about her horrific boss when the door to the restaurant opens, and you spot him. You do a double take as your eyes meet, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion, and he seems to freeze in place for a second.

You take in the sight of your boyfriend: his glasses are askew, his hair disheveled, and you think he must have thrown on whatever hoodie and sweats combo he could find laying around in a hurry. He hovers by the door as he stares at you, blinking, and your mind begins to race. Why is he here? Is everything okay? Wonwoo is never one to draw attention to himself if he can help it – which just makes this whole thing even more confusing. 

“Hey,” you interrupt quietly, causing all heads to turn towards you. “Wonwoo’s here. Give me a second?” 

Your friends all nod in unison, and you can feel them watching as you stand up and make your way over to the door. As soon as you reach him, your hand is automatically searching for his, gently tugging him through the door and back out into the cold.

“Babe,” you say hastily as soon as you’re around the corner and out of sight. “What’s wrong?” Your hand leaves his so that both of yours can run over his arms, his biceps, his shoulders, giving him a frantic once-over to make sure he’s physically alright. When your hands cup his jaw, he finally moves his hands to cover yours, lowering them down to hold them in between you. 

“You’re not hurt?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you stare back at him. “Huh?”

His eyes wander over your face, brows still furrowed in what you affectionately like to call his Thinking Face, before he moves back to look down at your feet. “You can walk fine?”

You are so confused. “Yes, Wonwoo, what? Babe, did you run here?”

You watch as he tilts his head, still thinking for what feels like forever – and then his lips twitch up at the sides. He suddenly looks embarrassed as his gaze falls from yours, but he’s smiling, a hand leaving one of yours to lift and cover his face. 

You are so confused. 

“I didn’t run here,” he finally answers, his hand falling away from his face, “but I definitely may have gone over the speed limit to get to you faster.” 

“Why?” You ask, incredulous. You still have no idea what’s going on.

“YN," he says, voice laced with amusement. "I texted that I was on my way. You said your heel broke."

You blink once, twice, before it suddenly dawns on you. “Oh my god, Wonwoo –” 

“Yeah.” He's smiling so wide that his eyes are crescent moons, and you're smiling, too – and then he begins to laugh.

You can’t help but join in.

He pulls you into his chest, and you can feel him laughing against you. It’s a quiet laughter, but you’re grateful no one can see the two of you where you stand outside the restaurant, because you’re sure you both look insane. You don’t care, though, because all you can think about is how fast he’d tried to get to you because he thought you were hurt. 

Your heart swells from its place in your chest, so full of affection for the man in front of you that you can feel it all over. You pull back, your hands finding either side of his jaw to pull him in for a quick kiss, and you can tell he’s pleasantly surprised by the way his cheeks tinge pink. Neither of you really have a thing for PDA, but you couldn't help it, not when you felt like you were so full of affection you could burst.

“You are such a loser,” is what you say, but you know he can translate it. I love you is what you mean, and he knows.

“I panicked,” Wonwoo laughs, running a hand through his hair as he laces his fingers with yours. “Sorry about your shoe, though.”

You wave your free hand in the air as he slowly walks you towards the restaurant door again. “I’ll deal with it later.” 

He glances in through the glass when you reach it, giving your hand a squeeze. “How much longer?”

You beam at that, lifting your hand up to gently brush some hair off of his forehead. “Not much, if I can help it. I miss you too much.”

“It’s been like two hours," he says, as though he isn't clinging onto your fingers in his with everything he's got.

“Okay, Mr. I’m-going-to-rush-to-my-girlfriend’s-aid-even-though-she-only-has-a-broken-shoe–”

“Bye,” Wonwoo says abruptly, and you giggle. “Love you,” he murmurs, catching you by surprise, but you don't miss a beat. You simply squeeze his hand, and say the words back.

Later that night when you check your phone, you giggle to yourself as you see the two messages you'd missed from Wonwoo, sent directly after the others at dinner:

Wonwoo ❤️: stay there 

Wonwoo ❤️: I’m coming to get you  

And another, timestamped an hour later, when he was back home and on your couch:

Wonwoo ❤️: I’d do it again :)

A/N: lmao this is like. super not proofread but it was rlly fun to write so if you enjoy please reblog! remember that reblogs help way more than just likes for writers :') TAGLIST: @dejavernon @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

[hauntedhokage]

it would've been sweet

Past!Sae Itoshi/F!Reader, Oliver Aiku/F!Reader

word count: 12.8k (fuck, i’m so sorry)

summary: You would never come before soccer. 

But you let yourself pretend that he was spending time with you because wanted to, not just because you were around and he was bored.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, unprotected sex, sae is terrible at feelings, rin is better but still bad

note: this is not a love triangle fic. kinda jumps around from “present day” which is about 3-4 years after where we currently are in the manga, right after Sae leaves for Spain, to the start of the manga when the blue lock program started. I tried to make it obvious where time settings changed without labeling but i know it’s different perspective wise since i literally wrote it. This is also based on my own personal canon that Rin softens up a bit as he gets older and that he and Sae never make up. 

[ao3][ko-fi]

“What do you think?” The question has you looking up from the mirror to where your boyfriend stands, dressed up and clean shaven, which has you tilting your head. “Is it bad? I tried to match your dress, and-“

“No, baby, it looks great! Just don’t recognize you when you don’t look scruffy.”

“The rugged look gets all the ladies,” he comments, coming closer to place a gentle kiss to your forehead as you sigh. “I know you hate these things, but I appreciate you going so we can suffer together.”

“Yeah yeah,” you mumble playfully, earning yourself a kiss. “You just like seeing me dressed up.”

“That’s just a bonus. You look just as beautiful when you just wake up, wearing my jersey, or naked, or-“

“Alright, lover boy. We’re going to make the car wait too long.” Your scolding has him helping you to your feet, mindful of the heels you had on as he guides you out of the bedroom of the hotel suite. It was going to be a long night of talking to soccer players, soccer executives, and their guests about soccer - your least favorite thing to talk about in detail. 

You honestly hate soccer. 

It was the source of heartbreak, your first and only, and you let the stupid sport continue to contribute to your emotional pain. Maybe you’re a masochist; continuing to surround yourself with the sport despite loathing it entirely, dating a man who played professionally, and wanted you at all of the events he could get you to. 

Supporting your best friend as he traversed professional soccer while hating what it had done to both of you. What it did to his brother to cause both of you the worst emotional pain of your lives. 

There are times when you think about Itoshi Sae, mostly when he comes across your television before you change the channel. He was once your best friend, with a chance that there could’ve been more had he not gone to Spain. But you’d never come before his soccer career and, at thirteen years old you couldn’t dream of asking him to stay. Not for you. All of Japan would have crucified you for trying to hold their treasure back from the greatness that came with the world stage. 

But that didn’t stop you from wishing things could’ve been like they were before. When you were both happy and he actually seemed like he enjoyed soccer and you enjoyed watching him. Back when he had appreciated you and your support, back before he went to Spain all those years ago. 

Time passes, though. He made his choices, destroyed his relationship with both you and his younger brother like it was nothing to him. Switched to midfield, changed his dreams, acted like you meant nothing to him. He was still revered on the international stage, still loved by Japan, and deep down perhaps you still loved him too. But that wasn’t something you had time to think about, you had a life to worry about. 

He certainly wasn’t thinking about you, why put energy into thinking about him?

It was easier to just say that you hated soccer, even though both you and Rin knew what that statement actually meant: you hated Itoshi Sae. 

You knew you’d never come before soccer, but still you felt special that Sae would make time for you between his busy soccer schedule. Granted most of that time was spent in school or just a half an hour before or after school, but it was still time he made to spend with you , specifically. He didn’t talk to just anyone, but he talked to you. A perk of being his neighbor since you were five, you supposed. 

Recovery days from the strict training regimen spent either at his house or yours, meant to be studying for exams but instead taking turns watching videos on your phones. His were always related to soccer, insane hat tricks and compilations of the best strikers, while yours tended to be more on the funnier side or were cake decorating videos since he found those to be relaxing. 

You were at every match, cheering him and his brother on as they dominated the pitch and wishing the best for their careers. They loved soccer and loved playing together, Sae always telling you in private that he did see a future for himself and Rin in soccer at the national level. Playing for Japan as the best strikers in the world, exchanging passes until they got to the World Cup - hopefully Japan’s first so they could mark a huge claim in the history of Japanese soccer with one of them scoring the winning goal based on a pass from the other. 

Sae meant the world to you, but you always knew that you’d never come before soccer. But you wouldn’t want to, he deserved to chase his dream and you wanted to support him through that as you trusted he’d support you in yours. That’s what friends did. 

You loved Sae, and you felt deep down that he loved you too. But you’d never come before soccer. Especially not when he was recruited. Just thirteen years old, not even in high school yet, and he was going off to Spain. Japan’s Treasure, your treasure , and he was leaving you to go pursue his dream. As he should, and you don’t feel bad about it. 

After all, you knew you would never come before soccer. 

You didn’t go to high school alone, you had friends outside of Sae to hang out with, but you still felt so lonely. To go from talking to him every day, watching him play and practice with his brother, to just…nothing? It sucked. You still go to support Rin, watching his matches at the very least and tutoring him when he swallowed his pride and asked , but life without Sae felt empty and you hated it. 

“Have you heard from him?” You ask after a few months of radio silence from the elder Itoshi brother, and your heart drops when Rin shakes his head. “Oh, I guess he’s really busy then. I know he has to learn Spanish too, on top of practicing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s just busy. He’ll call when he gets time.” Was all Rin could say, and you give your own nod of agreement before pointing out that he forgot to carry the four. “Wasn’t thinking.”

“You never do,” you tease, ruffling his hair and earning a startled “hey!” from the younger brother. “Always thinking about when you can go kick the ball around next, when you should be thinking about these entrance exams.”

“I know I’ll get the minimum score required to get into my school of choice. Soccer will carry me the rest of the way and then I won’t even need to worry about graduating.”

Always following in his brother’s footsteps, Rin was chasing his own dream that he shared with Sae. His optimism was inspiring and infectious, bringing a grin to your face before you redirect him to the practice questions you’d provided. For a kid so talented at catching the right angles to kick the ball and score, he sucked at geometry. Maybe he was better suited for physics. 

Rin joining you at the high school was nice, you felt better knowing that he wasn’t starting school alone, even if he was just as lonely as you were without his brother around. Sae was irreplaceable to both of you, and yet neither of you had heard a word from him - not even a text at Christmas or either of your birthdays. He’d been gone for about four years, and you still waited for him when you should’ve given up. Any sane person would’ve given up, but you still had a deep love for Sae. Whether that was as your friend or if you had genuine feelings for him, you’d never figured it out before he left, but you hoped distance truly made the heart grow fonder and he’d do something about the fact that he’d cut you and his brother off completely. 

And then you get the news you were waiting for. 

“He’s coming back soon,” Rin comments as you eat lunch together, on a bench under a tree where you always ate together. “Something to do with his passport is what my mom said, but he’ll be back in about a month.”

“I’m sure you’re excited to see him again,” you comment, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Sae coming home was huge, and you couldn’t wait to hear about what he’d gotten up to while in Spain. You’d watched almost every single one of his matches, even bought a jersey to wear while you watched him play. A long distance good luck charm is what you’d sent to him when it was delivered - a text that got no response from your best friend. 

The snow was falling when Itoshi Sae was meant to return. Out of respect for the family that missed the eldest son, you don’t stop by their home for a few days. When you saw Rin at school he was visibly upset, more closed off than he’d been just a week ago when he was practically vibrating with excitement at seeing his brother again. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask after school, watching as he adjusts his gym bag on his shoulder while you put your shoes back on. “You’re clearly upset, Rin.”

“He gave up on our dream. That’s all there is to it.” 

You don’t believe that, but you know better than to pry into Rin’s feelings. The fact that he said anything was enough, especially as it related to his relationship with Sae. It was just unfortunate that the brothers who were once so close now had an entire ocean between them, both physically and in their relationship, courtesy of Sae. 

‘Sae is in town again. My mom said he asked about you.’

It wasn’t unusual to get a text from Rin, Sae’s intent to put distance between him and anybody who might’ve loved him had brought you closer to the younger Itoshi brother and maintained that relationship even as he went pro. It was now Rin’s jerseys that you collected and wore as good luck charms, anything with Sae’s name tucked away in a box so you wouldn’t have to look at it since you couldn’t bring yourself to throw them away. Even the stupid notes you’d pass back and forth with him in school - you’d kept everything. 

‘Respectfully, I do not care’

‘You do though. I’m not stupid.’

‘You are, I remember tutoring you dummy’

That gets a thumbs down reaction from Rin, and you sigh when your phone lights up with Rin’s name and picture. He couldn’t leave well enough alone, it seemed. Neither could you, most days. 

“Rin, please let me pretend to not care,” you request before he can even attempt a pleasantry. You know why he was calling, and you didn’t want to bring up the feelings you were trying not to deal with. “I ask for very little of you aside from a discount on your merchandise and for you to tell your teammates I said hi and am currently single.”

“You’re fucking annoying, y’know that?”

“You tell me every day. Now what do you want, I’ve got exams to study for.”

“I’m also in town at my mom’s request. It’d be nice to see you.” There was another shoe that hadn’t yet dropped, you knew there was always another shoe when Rin was around. He didn’t like that being his reputation with you, but there was nothing he could do about it when he was…the way he was. Much better than when he was a teen, though, but still awful. “My mom said that Sae was also going to try to get a hold of you. But I wish he wouldn’t.”

There it was, the other shoe. 

“What happened to not giving a fuck about what he did?”

“You’re still not over him. Seeing him isn’t going to make that any better, no matter how hard you try to ignore it, and I don’t want him to hurt you.”

“Rin, it’s been like eight years, give me a little credit please? I don’t want to see him, so I won’t.” It should be that simple, Sae didn’t know where you lived, so he couldn’t hunt you down. You’re sure his mom might’ve told him where you were going to school and what you were studying, you always caught up at Rin’s big matches and when you were closer to home for the holidays. She always treated you well, and your continued closeness with Rin made her feel better about how her youngest son was doing emotionally. You were like her bonus daughter, Rin’s older sister figure, a member of the Itoshi family complete with Christmas gifts and calls on your birthday, which was fine since Sae was never home for those events anyway.                                                         

“But you’ll see me?”

“You’re buying lunch, Rinnie. Or maybe a nice dinner? Haven’t decided.” But you know how it’ll turn out. Rin sitting on the floor against your couch with some horror movie playing as he betrayed his diet for once with sodium rich takeout that he’d complain about eating in the morning. Rin was predictable, unlike his brother who had always surprised you.

You never told Rin that Sae had texted you on your last birthday. Wishing you another healthy year, standard greeting for a birthday. You agonized over it for six hours before finally deleting it so you wouldn’t have to look at it again, knowing that responding would open a door you didn’t think you wanted to go through. Maybe he got the memo, but you’re not sure that Sae ever got the memo despite how smart he was.

“You’re a brat. But I wanted to make sure you weren’t crying because his name came up.” He knows you too well and you hate it, but you do appreciate that he cares in his own rude way. 

“You’re such a jerk. I’ll see you when?” 

“Tomorrow, unless you’re busy.”

“Tomorrow is fine. I’ve got class but that’s in the morning.”

“See you at noon. I’ll pick you up.” And then he hangs up on you, never bothering for pleasantries like saying “goodbye”. Those few seconds are extra time he could spend in the day working on his dribbling, or something stupid like that. 

But unfortunately he’s right, the mention of Sae bothering to ask about you - having the nerve to want to see you - after almost ten years of silence was incredibly frustrating to the point where you can’t stop the tears from welling up or the dam from breaking so your tears could flow freely. Your notes were ruined, teardrops making the ink bleed on the paper which would make you need to redo the page. 

In another universe, the one where at some point he chose you , he’d be right there studying with you. You wouldn’t be crying over him again, you’d be at the very least happier. He’d be teasing you in his own dry way for putting off your studying, and for teasing his brother so much. You think that you’d be having much more fun in that world where Sae was with you and not married to a soccer ball. Maybe he would’ve married you instead?

But he’d never choose you over soccer. He’d never be the one who chose you over the pitch, that just wasn’t Itoshi Sae. Trying to think of a world where he put you first was stupid and a waste of your time. You had exams to study for.

You tried to avoid him while he was back after what he’d said to Rin. Renewing his passport is what his mother said, and you understood that to be a somewhat lengthy process so you knew he’d be around for a while. At least a week or two, maybe longer depending on his paperwork. 

But in all your effort to avoid him, you end up running right into him on your way home from a mall trip with your friends. Rin wasn’t around, he’d gone off to some soccer camp, leaving you to do things with other people and without him tagging along in the back so you wouldn’t have to walk home alone. 

If Rin had been there, you’re sure he would’ve clocked Sae and directed you down a different street. But Rin wasn’t there, and you’re face-to-face with Itoshi Sae while snow falls between you. It was cold, about as cold as his eyes when they met yours, and you want nothing more than to go home but you’re sure it’s not going to be that easy. Sae was never easy to deal with, even when you were friends. 

“Hey.”

“That’s it?” you ask, rolling your eyes when he shrugs. “You’re gone for four years with no contact and all you have to say is ‘hey’?” 

His expression doesn’t change, and you feel yourself only getting more frustrated at that. It shouldn’t be new to you, he’d always been on the drier side, but given the history that he chose to write - the chasm he’d put between you - you can’t help but be mad. 

“You still cry when you’re upset. That’s a habit you should try to break.” 

“You do not have the right to say anything to me about what I should or shouldn’t do, not after what you did.” That gets at least a change in expression, a glimpse of an emotion crossing his features as you adjust your gloves. But as soon as it’s there, it’s gone. He was always very good at masking his feelings. 

“You act like there was an obligation to keep in touch.”

“That’s a joke, right? We had been friends since we were five and you say there was no obligation to stay in touch ? I knew and understood that soccer was always your priority, but you could’ve at least sent a text . If you didn’t want me in your life anymore, all you had to do was say so and I wouldn’t have spent four years worrying about you.” Your voice gets softer as you speak, your eyes no longer able to meet his as you feel the geyser of emotion start to bubble up in your chest. “But you made it crystal clear, so I won’t waste any more of your time. I have to get home.”

“Let me walk you.” 

“I’d rather walk into traffic,” you retort, stepping around him so you can continue on your way home. “You don’t get to pretend to care just because you’re back in town. You’ll leave as soon as you can, I’m sure. You clearly were happier when you didn’t have to see me every day.”

“You’re impossible.” 

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Can you stop for a minute?” The request actually makes you stop, but you don’t turn to look at him. You can’t, not when you’ve been crying because he sucks as a human being. “I wanted to see you, when I didn’t have to.”

“You also hurt your brother when you didn’t have to . Did you come all the way back for that?”

“What happened between Rin and I is none of your business.”

“Then what happened in Spain that you came back like this? This isn’t you , Sae!” You have to look at him now, need him to see just what he’d done to you. Before he left he hated it when you cried, even if it was at a movie, but now he looks unfazed at the tears streaming down your face. Who was he now? Just some soccer machine? “I want my friend back.”

The conversation ends when Sae closes the distance between you. The kiss is harsh, needy, but exposed a truth in both of your actions and that truth was in experience. You both had been kissing other people, and you’re not sure how to feel about Sae trying to date. Hypocritical for sure, but could you be blamed?

“That doesn’t fix anything ,” you murmur when he pulls away, and he only sighs as he comments on how frustrating you were. “And I don’t forgive you for hurting Rin. I won’t ever forgive that.”

“It’s still none of your business.” 

“Just fucking walk me home.” At this point it’s best to give him what he wanted. Arguing with Sae wasn’t easy when you were kids, and it’s obvious that he’d become more difficult while he was away. 

You never told Rin that Sae kissed you that night. 

Rin had left for Blue Lock at that point, telling you that his new goal was to destroy Sae and you’d only nodded as you wished him luck. At that point you only understood it to be a potential recruiting session, with the expectation that he’d be back in a couple weeks. 

Instead he was gone for months, and you saw a lot of the elder Itoshi brother in the younger’s absence. You never told Rin about that either. 

Quiet evenings with Sae watching you study for classes he’d never have to take, his own book in his hands and letting you sit in slightly uncomfortable silence. You don’t ask about Spain, you don’t talk about soccer in general because you hate that he used his experience with soccer in Spain to hurt his brother. But it “wasn’t your place” to intervene in their sibling quarrel, so you leave it all alone. You tell yourself that you don’t care, but the way you care for Rin tells you that you needed to in order to protect him since he was like a younger brother to you. Even if you were trying to protect him from his older brother. 

You let Sae spend time with you, you let him take you to dinner and make tea for you, you ignore your parents' questions about why he was around after you’d spent so many nights crying over him. You didn’t know, but you knew that he’d hold your hand sometimes while you ate in private and always left you with a kiss on the cheek on your doorstep. Sometimes you exchange kisses that escalated into heavy makeout sessions on your bedroom floor, and other times you sit in silence while you work at your desk and he stretches on your floor.

It was everything you had wanted from Sae, but you knew that you were simply a placeholder and nothing more. He was only around to see what the Blue Lock Program could produce, to see if a half decent striker could rise up to represent Japan and make their soccer decent for once. Once his curiosity was satisfied or disappointed, he’d leave again since his passport had been renewed. You were just a way for him to pass the time while he waited for something interesting to happen. 

You would never come before soccer. 

But you let yourself pretend that he was spending time with you because wanted to, not just because you were around and he was bored. What hurt you more was the fact that you were okay with his selfishness, because it meant spending time with him almost as if he’d never left. It meant for some purpose he wanted to be with you . 

Until he didn’t want that. 

You never told anyone how Sae told you after the loss in the match against the Blue Lock Eleven that your relationship to Rin was holding his brother back. How Rin would never rise to meet his own goals when you were tying him down to you. How Sae himself knew you would hold him back and that he’d be going back to Europe to play for a decent team. The words you’d always feared he would say cut so deeply after the months you’d spent at each other’s sides, and that’s when it truly has set in that you were a convenience to Sae - someone he knew would always take him back despite the pain he caused you - someone he could use and throw away as he pleased.  

Rin never knew what Sae had told you while he was in Japan last, and it was for the best. Rin had felt defeated after that match, hearing that Sae was more interested in Isagi than his own brother who was working so hard to exceed his brother’s level of talent. Knowing that Sae had stomped all over your heart would only make Rin more homicidal in his play style, and he needed a break from additional emotional issues. 

And four years later you find yourself laying on your couch with Rin sitting on the floor in front of you, takeout container in his hand while you play with his hair. He’d doze off on the floor soon, the food coma kicking in and you’d finally look at your phone where a text from Sae sat waiting for a response. He’d sent it the night before, asking if he could see you while he was around. You think about what it would be like to have both brothers on the same page again, to have Sae spending time with you consistently, to be happy with them both in your life. 

But you know deep down that soccer would always come first to Sae. You can’t forget or forgive what he’d said to you four years ago, but maybe he’d actually apologize for how he’d treated you if you saw him? But was it even with seeing him if that wasn’t a guarantee? There wasn’t even a guarantee that it’d be a pleasant meeting, Sae just sucked like that. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Rin comments, tilting his head back against the couch cushion so he could look at you. “Oh, that’s the Sae face.”

“I do not have a ‘Sae face’.” Your retort is met with the familiar deadpan stare you often got from Rin when he thought your argument was stupid. He only sighs in return, and you try to adjust your expression to be less like whatever it was previously. “What does that even mean?”

“You look like someone kicked your dog, to start. You’re also crying.”

You were? Rin reaching up to wipe them away had you embarrassed, mumbling about allergies even though you both know that was a lie to save face when you didn’t need to do that for Rin. Sae had him just as fucked up as you, the last time they met on the pitch resulting in a heated exchange that made worldwide sports headlines for weeks. You’re surprised Rin didn’t risk a red card to play more aggressively against his older brother, but the yellow card he did get was worn like a badge of honor when you scolded him for it later. 

“I’m sorry Rin. He texted me, is all, and I don’t know that I want to see him. Last time I saw him, it didn’t end well.”

“Does it ever end well with him?”

“No,” you mumble, letting him sit you up so he could get on the couch with you. It’s not long before you’re laying on him, head on his shoulder as he reminds you that you don’t need to see Sae and definitely don’t need him in your life. You were about to get your degree, and a job out of it too based on the internship you’d finished, and you did it all without Sae. Neither a of you needed Sae, and you both understood the universal truth: Sae would always choose soccer first. Before his brother and certainly before you. Putting effort in when you know it won’t be reciprocated was for fools. 

“Seeing him might give you closure, but you need to figure out when you’ll stop running back to him and giving him that power over you.”

“You’re annoying when you’re right.”

“I’m only saying that he only does this to you and I’m getting sick of it. You can make your own decisions, but I don’t like seeing you cry over him. We’ve done too much of that.”

You had, and Rin truly was annoying when he was right but you know you’re lucky to have him - someone who knew exactly what it felt like to be pushed aside and put down by Itoshi Sae. By someone who once cared so much and wanted to see you succeed, then flipped the switch and became the biggest asshole you’d ever met. What you’d do without Rin, you weren’t sure. 

“Thanks for putting up with me all this time,” you whisper, tears welling up again but this time because you’re so grateful for him. He’ll hate it when he realizes you’re crying again, but you think this time he’ll keep it to himself. 

“You’re my big sister, putting up with you is kinda my job,” he murmurs, kissing your head as he adjusts his back. “But I cannot sleep on this couch.”

“ You put us here, shithead.”

Despite all your best intuitions, you text Sae back. You do tell Rin that as he’s leaving your apartment the following morning, and he leaves you with the suggestion that this be the last time you communicate with Sae. There isn’t an ultimatum there, but you know that you can’t keep allowing Rin to clean up the messes Sae left behind. Despite your close relationship and mutual understanding of how much it sucked to be emotionally fucked by Sae, it wasn’t fair to Rin that he picked up the additional emotional labor that was you crying over his brother or looking like you wanted to cry at the mention of him. You had a “Sae face”, for fuck’s sake - that could not last.

It’s always cold when you see Sae as adults. Mostly because it was the mid-season break in the middle of winter, but you also find it fitting that the weather fits how you feel the conversation should go. Indifferent, signaling the end to a one-sided friendship and the way he continued to keep you at arm’s length. Sae never felt warm, even down to the way he looked at you, it was a cold indifference that made you feel like you were stranded in the arctic with no way to truly understand what you did to be left that way. But you’re here now, standing in front of him as he watches you, not a sliver of interest in his expression that made you feel like he wanted you there despite the request that you come see him and make the time for him that he never made for you. 

“Hey.” Your greeting is about as level as you can manage, trying to maintain the cold indifference he always met you with. He looks tired, moreso than usual, which has you concerned but not enough to ask. He wouldn’t ask you if you were okay, that same courtesy should not be extended even if the words dance on the tip of your tongue with a need to be bitten down to keep yourself quiet.

“It’s cold out here, we should head into the hotel.” And he’s gesturing to the lavish building to your left, the building you hadn’t noticed because Sae gave you tunnel vision. “I don't have time to get sick.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” But you follow him anyway, loosening your scarf as he leads you to the elevator before your gloves come off to get tucked into the pocket of your coat. You aren’t sure how long you’ll stay, but you’re not trying to overheat either. 

“My mom says you’re almost done with university.”

“Yeah, I graduate in the spring.”

He only nods as the elevator stops, and again you’re following him down the hall to what is only the second door you see in the entire length of the hallway. Lavish hotel, lavish suite, you’d expect nothing less of Japan’s Treasure. Your boots are carefully removed before you take off your coat to hang up, acutely aware of how Sae watches you as he does the same. He was always watching, and you hate the way he could figure you out in seconds but never let you into the locked vault that was his brain. There was so much you could’ve learned if he’d just reciprocated some level of trust, but the last time you understood Sae was when you were in middle school - before Spain, before Blue Lock, before he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Why’d you text on my birthday?”

“It was your birthday, wasn’t it? It’s polite to do that.”

“You haven’t done that in almost ten years.” 

He gestures to the table on the other side of the suite, two plush chairs waiting for you both to sit and talk. That’s what Sae wanted, you supposed - to talk for the first time in four years. So you sit, tucking one leg under your body and nodding when he offered you some tea. 

But then he’s quiet; watching as you sip at the tea provided, holding the mug in your hands as a way to close yourself off from him. He couldn’t hurt you if you didn’t let him in to do that. 

“I want to make one thing clear, Sae.” You finally break after a couple minutes of unsettling silence, setting your cup down on the coaster before folding your hands in your lap. “I don’t have time to fuck around so please just get this over with and call me a stupid and hopeful girl that’s holding you back so I can go home.”

“Is that what you expected to get?”

“It’s the last thing you said to my face, so yeah.” He only nods at that, knowing that there was no denying that statement. “I can’t keep doing this, letting you show up every four years just to butter me up and then tell me to fuck off. I can’t keep trying to be your friend if you can’t even give me five minutes that I deserve when you’re not benefiting from it directly.”

He’s silent, and you continue to sip your tea while letting him process that. After a moment he stands, still saying nothing as he crosses the suite to get to a small box that sits on the dresser in the room. It looks expensive, a cherry wood case that is set delicately on the table in front of you. It’s as he sets it down that the sleeve of his shirt rides up a bit, revealing a familiar braided string of yarn that you’d made at a scouts camp. It was much too worn to be anything else, and your hand catches his wrist before he has the chance to sit down again. 

“You’ll spill your tea.”

“Shut up,” you whisper, setting the mug down with your free hand before dragging your index finger along the bracelet until it catches the two beads that were braided side-by-side into the yarn. Black and white, “like a soccer ball” is what you’d told him all those years ago, and the way he smiled as you tied it around his wrist made you feel something your eight year old heart hadn’t been able to compute. “You still have it.”

“I’ve always had it. I only take it off to shower.” He speaks so softly you barely hear him, the hand on your cheek bringing your attention away from the bracelet and to him as he squats in front of you. “And I know I’m a piece of shit, Rin made sure to tell me at our family dinner a couple nights ago, but I guess I just wanted to let you know that I have been thinking about you and I’ve had you with me like you kept me with you all this time.”

“Why didn’t you ever just say that?” Your question has him sighing, and you look at him expectantly as he averts his gaze to look at the box instead. “If you’ve known all this time that I wanted you and you kept this - why not just say something?”

“I guess I just have to complicate everything.” You know that’s a joke - it has to be an attempt at one - and you can’t help but shake your head before you also look to where the box sits on the table waiting for you to open it. “I got this for you, putting it in the mail felt too impersonal.”

You don’t comment on how impersonal usually suited him just fine, not wanting to kill whatever moment you were having as your hands leave him to carefully open the box. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, but to hear an old pop song you’d enjoyed while he was spending time with you while Rin was at Blue Lock wasn’t it, and the tears well up in your eyes as it’s fully opened and you see a very old picture of you with Sae at one of your birthday parties pressed into the lid. Cake frosting on your face as you’re laughing, Sae’s finger still covered in frosting in the frame as he looks so proud of himself for getting you like that. Printed onto glass, a memory that you’d never forget because that was when Sae was happy , and preserved somewhere other than your heart (and apparently with one of your parents).

Then he pushes a button on the side of the box, the soft base lifting slowly to reveal a bracelet that looks so much like the one you’d made for him all those years ago. Only where he had two beads, this one has a small metal plate with a date on one side and you turn it when you see kanji on the other. 

“‘Thank you for being my harbor’?” 

“You’ve always been a safe place for me to come home to. A harbor for me to dock in. Even when I suck.” The explanation makes you chuckle as you wipe some stray tears from your cheek, commenting about how he spent too much time looking at the ocean while you watch him turn the bracelet over in your hands. “This was our first day of kindergarten. The day you decided you were my best friend.”

At that moment you don’t care about his career or potential for injury when you launch yourself at him. Arms tight around his neck as he barely catches you in time to cushion your fall as he hits the carpet below you. 

“I didn’t think you had a heart,” you tease, earning a huff from the man below you but no other comment. “Thank you, Sae.”

“I’d try to stay for you.” His voice was almost so quiet you didn’t hear it, and you can’t stop yourself from kissing him in your excitement to hear him say that.

“You mean it?” You don’t get a verbal response, instead his lips reconnecting to yours in a kiss that was less exciting but not lacking in passion. A warmth that rarely emanated from Sae made you feel like you were on fire, but he always made you feel like that when he kissed you. “Sae-“

“Don’t think too hard about it,” he instructs, hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. “Do you want this?”

“What is this ?”

“Currently? I think sex,” he mumbles, kissing along your jaw where he could reach in this position “After that? I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure that part out later,” you murmur, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. “But now, sex is good.”

You hate how easily your shirt comes off, his task that was exploring your neck barely interrupted by pulling the fabric over your head with your bra following shortly after. You have to sit up to allow yourself the space to undo the buttons of his shirt, and he helps you by starting from the bottom to complete the task faster. The shirt and his undershirt are shed quickly after he sits up, his hands then occupying themselves with your breasts as your mouth meets his once more. Your hands undo his pants, fumbling in search of his length that you’d felt getting hard beneath you while you were kissing him. It’s easy for him to push you both up while he bridges his hi[s, supporting you with just one hand while his other helps you push his pants and briefs down so you’d have the access to him that you wanted. His length is hot in your hand, a soft groan escaping him as your hand blindly explores previously uncharted territory.

“Is someone sensitive?” you ask, smile on your face as he scoffs. Your own pants start to get wiggled down your hips, and you cooperate as he adjusts your body to ensure he could get your pants and panties off without needing to pull too far away from you. His ability to manhandle you shouldn’t be surprising, considering the intense strength training all professional athletes worked through, but for it to be Sae shuffling you around with little effort was something unexpected. Maybe it was because you consistently still pictured him as the same young teenager, the untainted version of Sae that loved you, but you can’t dwell on that when you feel a couple fingers slide through your slick folds. 

His fingers ease into your cunt, it seemed like he was trying to match the easy pace of your hand with his thumb rolling against your clit shortly after your thumb runs along his tip. Like in all things, Sae is meticulous and observant and he worked diligently to get you ready to take him. He felt big in your hand, but without having a proper look at his cock you’re not sure if he was over or under preparing you so you’re trusting him while his fingers work expertly inside you. It’d be weird to ask how many people he’d been with, considering he clearly didn’t care how many people you’d been with - did it actually matter if you were here now? Probably not, but you always worked overtime thinking about what Sae was possibly up to without you. 

“Ready?” He’s asking you as he pulls his hand back, but not looking at you as his attention is redirected to your neck and shoulder. “Don’t wanna cum in your hand, would rather do that inside you.”                                                                            

“Condom?” you ask, wincing at the way his teeth gripped the skin at your jawline, before he let out a hum that sounded like a no. 

“Not necessary.” The confirmation of his thought has you smiling, bumping your head against his as he looks up at you. 

“How do you know I don’t want to trap you into giving me your money to raise a prodigy child?” you tease, earning yourself an exasperated sigh as he nips the shell of your ear. 

“You’ve had access to Rin’s money for years and all you ask for are jerseys and tickets.” You’re mad that he knows that, but you’re sure that Rin has probably thrown it in his face once or twice that you don’t ask for much at all outside of basic human decency and how Sae couldn’t give you that. “He’d give you anything you asked for, maybe not a kid though.”

“He can’t give me you.”

“He’d kill himself before agreeing to that,” he murmurs, peppering kisses around your cheek as he eases you onto his length. “Gonna take all of me? I know you can.”

You could, but not without effort. Sae wasn’t excessively girthy, but he was longer than others you’d taken. You liked that you were on top, having more control over this despite his hands on your hips guiding you down as he whispers in your ear how well you were taking him. You don’t take his entire length on the first pass, but he’s still enamored as he leans back against the bed to properly take you in. 

“You’re really pretty when I’m stretching you out like this.”

“Only when you’re fucking me?”

“All the time, you’ve always been pretty,” he responds, hand around your neck to keep your gaze locked on his. “But this is something special. Not just anyone gets to see you like this.”

That much was true, you were selective about who had access to you despite working overtime in college to do whatever you could to forget about Sae. You think mostly it was to keep your image clean for Rin, despite him never asking for the intimate details of your life that could tarnish your image in his eyes. 

“Thinking too much,” he scolds, gently tapping your cheek to refocus your attention on him and only him . “You wanted my attention so bad, be good for me then.”

“You chased me this time,” you counter, rolling your hips against his and pulling a hiss from between his teeth. “So shut the fuck up.”

“Bossy,” he murmurs before pulling you in for another kiss. It’s more calculated than you’d expect for having his cock buried in your cunt as his hands help you ride him. There was a universe where you and Sae were like this all the time, you’re sure of it. One where you’re happy and in love with each other to the point where you can’t keep your hands off one another. A universe where it didn’t take eight years for him to say that you meant something to him - where he didn’t run from experiencing a human emotion to maintain a cool composure on the field. It was probably a world where he didn’t play soccer, and would probably never be the universe you lived in currently. 

“Why are you crying?” he whispers, the hand that wasn’t holding your neck carefully rubbing your side in an effort to calm you down. You have even realized that you were crying, how embarrassing. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, trying to reassure him as you continue fucking him, but you know you don’t believe it. “Thinking too much, like you said. Missed you a lot, y’know. This is nice.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t think so much,” he comments with a sigh, brushing his nose against yours as you shrug. 

“Do something about it, then.” 

He moves quickly at your challenge, your back hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud as he changes the position so he was on top. Your hands settle on his chest as he kisses you, the coil in your stomach tightening with every deep thrust into your pussy. His kiss is sloppy, needy and so uncharacteristic of the usually very meticulous man you’d come to know and love but hate most of the time. 

“Sae, please,” you whine as he pulls away, cheek pressed to his as he presses his face into your neck. 

“Keep saying it,” he requests, nipping and sucking at the skin he can get to as he pounds into you, one hand gripping your leg to bring it up to his hip for the deeper angle that has you seeing stars. “Let the whole hotel know who’s got you.”

“S-Sae,” you moan, his hand finding your clit bringing a choked gasp out of your lips that has him grinning into your skin. 

“So good for me, you like the way I fuck you?”

“God, fuck yes!” You’re thankful his suite is so large, preventing many, if any, people from hearing how desperately you were missing for him. “S’good Sae.”

“I know,” he grunts, the sound coming from deep in his throat and sending a shiver down your spine.  “Fuck, you feel great. So good for me.” 

Your core continues to tighten with every thrust, signaling the beginning of the end for you, and you hope he’s also close because you’re not sure you could handle any more. You didn’t have the soccer stamina like he did. 

“Sae, I’m gonna cum.” That gets his attention, leaving your neck with an open mouthed kiss before he’s looking down at you again. He’s smiling as his hand pushes your hair from your face, kissing your forehead as he feels your walls begin to constrict around him. 

“Come on, baby, you can cum for me,” he murmurs, hands cupping your cheeks as he forehead rests against yours. “C’mon, beg a little bit for me as you do, yeah?”

“Sae, please,” you whimper, gripping his forearms as he grinds his hips into yours. His pelvis rubs against your clit with every stroke of his hips, his own normally controlled gaze unfocused as he feels his own end approaching. “Sae- yes, fuck - SaeSaeSae please. I’m gonna-!”

His moans are less intelligible as he tries to hold out through your orgasm, you barely make out your name among a string of curses until he finally stills as warmth floods your core. One small thrust followed by a second push his seed deeper into you, the press of his lips kissing away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks.  

“The floor is not where I’d wanted to do this,” he murmurs but you only try to shake your head because you truly did not care. “You okay?”

“You’re going to have to check for a rug burn, but I’m good. More than that.” Your assurance comes as he pulls out, helping you to sit up before pulling you to your feet with him so he can help you to the bed on wobbly legs. He tells you to stay put for a moment after laying you down, and you watch from the bed as he leaves for the bathroom. 

When he returns, he turns you on your back so he can check your skin for rug burns as requested while his other hand brings a washcloth between your legs to clean up the mess he’d left. Always striving for efficiency was Sae, and you appreciate the care he puts into getting you ready for bed. You honestly wouldn’t have expected that of him but, then again, this entire night was something you wouldn’t have expected from him. 

“You look fine.” Is all he says before placing the softest of kisses between your shoulder blades, bringing a smile to your face before he goes to put the washcloth back into the bathroom. This time when he comes back he pulls you into his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while you continue to bask in the afterglow of having sex with Sae. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, uncomfortable with the sudden silence despite the way he was relaxed beneath you. It wasn’t odd for him to get quiet, but after sex it felt odd. Was he regretting it, or trying to figure out how to ask you to go back home? What if this was all for him to get some closure he was looking for?  

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking.”

“Want to share with the class?”

“You asked what happened in Spain, and I never told you,” he murmurs, hand rubbing your back as you look up at him. “Never told anyone, really.”

You hum, gently tracing patterns on his chest with your fingertips as he sits in the silence. You weren’t going to say anything that could break his train of thought, not wanting to destroy whatever vulnerability he was going to extend to you. 

“It’s different when you leave Japan. I know Rin has probably told you about some of it, but him exploring at seventeen or eighteen was vastly different than being thirteen.”

“I’m sure. You had to learn Spanish too, right?”

“I did, which is fucking hard when your English also isn’t great.” So at least you were right about that much, the stress he was likely under was unimaginable. “My translator worked overtime.”

“I’m sure.”

“But I think the worst of it was just how alone I was. A child, so hyped up and for what? The rug was pulled from under me very fast; not speaking the language created a lot of barriers for me, along with my age and obvious inexperience with how the real world works. Thought I knew everything, but I didn’t know shit.”

“I mean, you were just a kid still, did they not-“

“They didn’t care. I could’ve been a toddler and they wouldn’t have given a shit. And they taught me quickly that everything you have can be taken away from you. I guess initially I didn’t want them to try and take you, too. Then it was just, everything changed. I had to change my entire mentality about soccer to succeed there and it took over. And I can’t break it, or else I break my soccer.”

“You realize that’s not a good excuse to have acted like a complete dick for the last ten years, right?” You ask, propping yourself up to look directly at him. “Like all you had to say was ‘Spain sucks, I’m miserable, and I don’t want to push you away but I know I suck’ and I would’ve tried to understand more. But then you did the rest of it, and did irreparable damage to Rin and I.”

“I know,” he sighs, his eyes closing as you roll yours. “I know, and nothing I can do will fix that. You just wanted to know, and I owed you that.”

“You’re pretty hot when you’re vulnerable.” Your attempt to lighten the mood lands, earning a snort from the usually collected Sae before he opens his eyes to look at you again. “I’m serious!”

“I’m sure,” he mumbles, settling more into the bed while trying to pull you back down into him. You don’t let him get you easily, pulling back against him so you could continue that eye contact with him. 

“Are you sticking around this time?” The question has him sighing, and you feel bad for ruining the moment but you know you need to talk this out. “I meant it when I said I can’t keep doing this. If you’re not sticking around, or if you’re going to leave without saying anything and cut me off again, then we’re done on all fronts. I can’t keep waiting for you to choose me.”

You think you know the answer when he sighs, but you let him pull you down into his chest this time. You’d enjoy it while it lasted, you supposed, the consequences would be felt in the morning. Sae was finally yours , even if it was only for a night. 

You wake up alone in the hotel suite, still naked but neatly tucked in by who you could only assume was Sae. The woven bracelet is tied around your wrist, which gives you hope, but looking around the room tells you that he’d left entirely. No suitcases, no remnants of the clothes you’d shed on the way to the bedroom, your own clothes neatly folded at the end of the bed. He did exactly what he told you he wouldn’t do, which has your stomach dropping as the tears well up. 

Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t keep his word. He would never choose you over soccer, after all. 

You feel ashamed as you leave the hotel, the snow still falling and you’re tempted to walk all the way back home to just marinate in the emotions you were feeling. But you don’t, instead calling for a taxi where the driver listens to you sniffle in your own misery with a sympathetic look on his face. You hate being so vulnerable, exposed in public for having your heart broken and the pieces stomped on by someone who grew up with you, but it’s another thing you can hate Sae for. 

Coming home to Rin sitting on your couch was not what you wanted exactly, but pulling off your layers and then flopping on the couch beside him was what you needed. He’d be disappointed that you’d bought into Sae’s lies once more, but he’d be relieved to hear that you were completely done now. You’d learned your lesson one too many times, and now you could both move on from this constant cycle of heartache. 

“What happened?”

“Details you don’t need, for starters,” you sigh, earning a gagging sound from Rin that makes you roll your eyes. “But I told him if he left like he did the last two times, not saying anything and just going ghost that I wanted him to never talk to me again. And when I woke up he was gone. Like he was never there.”

“Bastard.” Is the only thing to leave Rin as he pulls you into his side. “But I suppose he finally made his choice.”

“He’d always made his choice, I’m just an idiot.” He doesn’t have anything to say to that, and you just lean into his shoulder while you try to fight back the next round of tears. You appreciate that he doesn’t want to make you feel worse by telling you what he thought, but the silence was horrifyingly loud. “I should shower.”

“I’ll make some breakfast for you.”

After you were clean and had eaten, Rin left for his own training regimen and you sat on your couch while staring at your phone as it vibrated on the coffee table. Sae had already called twice, this would be the third time he’d called. You don’t want to answer, but you know you have to or else he wouldn’t stop calling. But maybe he’d come back if he thought you hadn’t made it home? Could you manipulate him into your apartment so you could yell at him in person? 

No, that wouldn’t really fix anything. He’d probably just try to fuck you into being docile again, and you didn’t want or need that. 

“You selfish piece of shit.” Is how you start when you answer, standing up from your seat. “I can’t believe that I believed all that shit you said! But classic Sae, right? Tell me what I want to hear and then fucking leave without a word!”

“I’m sorry-”

“You’d fucking want to be! I’m so tired of you jerking me around like this, and then Rin feels obligated to pick up the pieces of the heart you shatter time and time again! He deserves better than to clean up your mess both with me and with your family.”

“I had a flight to catch.”

“Then you say that, dick! Don’t give me some expensive gift, fuck me, then leave!” 

“When was I supposed to tell you?”

“I dunno, maybe when we were staring at each other in those chairs? Or when you were taking off my clothes? Or, and here’s a crazy thought, when we were laying in bed and I told you flat out that if you left like that again you could consider me gone for real!” You don’t know when you’d made it to your bedroom, but you’re sure you owe your neighbors an apology for how loud you were yelling into your phone. “Like always, you know just what to say to get me close to you and then you fuck it up because you’re selfish, arrogant, and think that just because you can kick a ball really well that you can just treat me how you want?”

“It shouldn’t matter.” Is what you’re met with, and you have to stop yourself from screaming into the phone as your response for how upset you were. “You should know, especially after last night, that you do mean something to me.”

“Sure, but I just can’t do this shit with you, Sae. I can’t be with you when you’re here and then not exist when you’re gone!” You yell into the phone, knowing that as soon as he didn’t like where the conversation was headed he’d hang up. You’d at least gotten to say your piece, make sure he knew just how upset you were and how deeply he’d fucked up. Saying that you should know when he never made you feel anything like that until last night? Absurd and you hoped he’d learn after this that you have to communicate. “I told you that if you left the same way again that I wouldn’t be waiting for you when you came back. I’m done waiting for you, Sae. I can’t keep hoping that one day you’ll choose me because you want to instead of it being because I’m convenient for you.” 

“You think it’s out of convenience?”

“When have you ever given me a reason to think otherwise?”

There’s only silence on the other line, so you hang up after a couple moments of giving him an opportunity to respond before flopping back onto your bed and riding the way it bounced until you eventually settled. There wasn’t anything to look forward to, he’d never choose you and you couldn’t put your life on hold in the off chance that hell froze over and he did choose you over soccer. 

But you had a graduation coming up that you needed to prepare for, Sae was not ruining that for you. 

After you graduate, however, things get a bit boring. Work and more work, an endless repetition that exhausts you. If Rin would be a good younger brother and put in a good word for you with one of his teammates, you’d volunteer to be a trophy soccer wife and just travel. Would it be a waste of your degree? Absolutely, but there had to be more to life than whatever this was. Even if you had to act like you at least enjoyed soccer, it has to be more interesting than the life you had currently. People think it’s cool that you’ve got pictures with Itoshi Rin on your desk and are able to get them passes to matches you simply don’t want to be at, it gives them something to talk to you about and see you smile for once instead of having your head down in your work. 

But you know part of the misery is tied into the fact that you can’t stop thinking about Sae. Yes, you’d cut him off after he’d left you, but there was so much history that you were severing that it hurt to do and think about. If Rin asked, you were doing just fine, even if he knew you better than to believe that. 

Your prayers always seem to be answered in the form of Itoshi Rin. You hadn't exactly told him how miserable you were, trying to put on a good show for him whenever you had the chance to talk. You even left to get drinks with coworkers a couple times and let someone take you out on a date. You were trying to be social, because you knew it would help him worry less about you.

But the next time Rin is in the country, he shows up on a Saturday evening and tells you to get dressed as you’re in the middle of preparing vegetables to cook for dinner. He never showed up without calling, so this had to have been an impromptu decision for him to show up in relatively nice clothes instead of his usual gym or travel wear. 

“You could call , asshole. I wouldn’t have started cooking.”

“It’s just vegetables, they’ll keep for another day. Now go get dressed, casual but nice.”

You comply, but not because Rin told you to. The notion of going out with someone you didn’t see every day at work was enough to make you cooperative, is at least what you would try to say if he asked why you tagged along if you managed to get a complaint out. 

“Where are we even going ?”

“Dinner with some of my teammates. Apparently they miss you despite passing my phone around in the locker room to talk to you before every match.”

“Do they know I’m single?”

“I think it’s painfully obvious on your instagram.” That has you poking your head out of the bathroom to look at him as he goes through your closet while you try to make your hair more presentable for dinner with sports celebrities. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen four cats running around here at this point.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you retort, flipping him off before going back to your task that was taming your hair. “Pick out something cute!”

“You’re so annoying,” he calls, earning himself another middle finger extended out of the doorway of your bathroom. “You’d better be dressed in ten minutes.”

You’re finished getting ready in nine, probably a personal best but only made possible because Rin picked clothes out for you - saving you both the agony that came with you rifling through your closet for the right outfit. Choosing and then doubting yourself to choose again only to end up going back to your original selection. He hated that, so it made his life much easier to pick the clothes and get you into the car. 

“Where exactly are we going?” It’s the third time you’ve asked, you see Rin’s eye twitch in annoyance at the question since he’d told you that you were going with him to dinner with some of his teammates. He didn’t tell you where, or who all would be there, but you did enjoy everyone he played with so you couldn’t be fully upset at not having details. “Who all is going to be there?”

“We’re going to that one sushi place we went to on your birthday last year. Not sure exactly who all from the team will be there, but Aiku will definitely be there since he has been asking about you nonstop. Missed seeing you at matches when we’re playing here. Are you satisfied?”

“You should tell him I hate soccer and only went for you in the first place.”

“You don’t hate soccer, you hate what it did to you.”

“Same difference.”

“Behave in there,” Rin warns once the car is parked, and you look over at him with an unimpressed stare as you unbuckle your seatbelt. “I told them ahead of time not to mention Sae.”

“So they know your brother fucked me then left me?”

“No. Just that you two were once close and now the ties are officially severed but you’re still grieving the loss of that friendship.” He was so good at covering for you, but you also know that he was happy that you’d finally chosen yourself over choosing to chase Sae that he’d do anything to make that choice easier for you to heal from. “You’re going to have a good time. If not, I’ll kill them.”

And you did have a good time, sitting between Rin and Oliver proved to be very entertaining while you were paid close attention to by both men. Rin per usual was a bit distant from his teammates, but would lean in to speak to you and make sure you were doing okay. On your left, Oliver was switching between speaking to you and chattering to his teammates. He asked questions about how you’ve been doing, interested in your studies and excited that you’d graduated. He knew how hard you worked from past conversations and hearing Rin try to figure out how to send care packages from different countries to get you through exams, and he told you that he was proud of you for such a big accomplishment. 

“Let me take you out to celebrate. Just the two of us,” Oliver requests, his smile nothing short of charming despite Rin’s scoff behind you. He never let Rin’s attitude deter him from what he wanted, and you did like that about Oliver. The fact that he was handsome just happened to be a plus. 

You want to say no, you really do. The thought of spending time with people outside of your apartment, without Rin to act as a buffer and remove you from the situation when you started to get emotional was terrifying. But the nudge from Rin happens, and you know that it’d be for the best that you develop habits that don’t include crying over Itoshi Sae and and you need to make more friends that weren’t at your job. So you nod, smile on your face as you tell Oliver that you’d really like for him to take you out. 

A couple years pass by, and you end up in a serious relationship with Oliver Aiku. It’s a very public affair, him flying you out for matches and always kissing you very passionately after victories - one time practically jumping into the stands to get to you. He loved you loudly, proudly, and would show you off at every opportunity to the point where you spent more time working remotely from whatever country he wanted you in than being in your office. 

His pride in being with you is what brought you to an annual gala, complete with the nice expensive dress that coordinated beautifully with his suit. The pocket square even sparkled in the light like your dress did, a very important detail to him as he was dress shopping with you. 

And he liked to be by your side, hand held in his or his arm around your waist as you chatted with his teammates or other players that you knew through him and Rin, but he also gave you space. If you excused yourself, he’d check in only briefly to make sure you were okay before letting you know to let him know if you needed him. And when you excused yourself at this gala, telling him you were going to use the restroom before getting more champagne for the both of you, he let you go with a kiss on your cheek and a gentle but discrete pat to your ass with a grin that you couldn’t help but adore. 

You know that you love Oliver; you love the way he treats you and the way that he loves you - with no question or hesitation to tell and show you how much he cared. Rin didn’t hate the relationship, he just wished Oliver was more mindful of the environment before making a scene after matches, but most of all Rin was happy that you were happy. His brother wasn’t a constant source of emotional pain for you anymore, Oliver made sure of that, and that’s all Rin truly wanted for you: happiness and to feel like you were chosen for once. You knew you’d never force the ultimatum that was you or a soccer career, but knowing that Oliver would drop anything except for a match to get to you if you needed him meant so much more than you think he’d understand after your history of dealing with Sae. A history that he has gotten bits and pieces of, but not quite the full story. Rin would never dig up that history without your permission, but you share bits and pieces when he asks well timed questions. 

You love Oliver, but running into Sae as you leave the restroom has you stopped in your tracks and you can tell he’s also put off by the sudden rendezvous. While you were always at these events at Oliver’s side, you’d managed to avoid crossing paths with Sae since he very rarely showed up to them. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and were hoping that you’d never have to see him again after you’d officially severed the ties that bound you to him. But here he was, and you stand in silence for a moment before he realizes that you’re not going to say anything to him. 

“You look well,” is all he says, and you nod with as straight a face as you can muster. You couldn’t make a scene here, fighting Itoshi Sae at a JFU event would get you blacklisted and possibly Oliver too. “Thank you, you also look well.”

“Aiku, huh?”

“He never thought I was holding him back. He’s stayed with no hesitation about his career,” you comment, leaning against the wall of the hallway as Sae nods his understanding. “Why’d you leave that night? Don’t bullshit me, either, we’re too old for that.” 

“Truthfully, I was scared. You deserved better than what I was prepared to provide, so I left for your sake.” You’re not buying it, but you would let him live in the delusion that he was doing what was best for you rather than what was best for him . Whatever he needed to sleep at night. “He makes you happy?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, the thought that he also had made you happy when you were spending time with him dying on your tongue when you swallow. That wouldn’t fix anything for him or for you. “I love him, and he loves me.”

“The way he makes out with you after matches says enough.”

“And you have no place to comment. You had multiple chances, and you chose to push me away every time and go silent so we couldn’t even talk about it. You ran , Itoshi. Oliver doesn’t run.” He sighs, and you roll your eyes at the fact that he wasn’t leaving and was also blocking the hallway so you couldn’t leave easily either. “Would there ever have been a time where you chose me? Or tried to be with me when you weren’t on a break from playing?”

“Why are you so obsessed with causing yourself pain?,” Sae asks, and you shrug while doing your best to keep the emotions at bay. “You still want to cry when you’re angry, but you’re better at stopping yourself now.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to you hurting me, I don’t know what to do when you’re not.” You know that cuts deep, he visibly flinches at that which you wouldn’t expect to see him do in public. “I need to get back before he comes looking and then tries to deck you.” 

That has Sae turning to move past you and into the men’s bathroom, leaving you to take a couple deep breaths before leaving the small hallway and making your way through the various players, executives, and their guests to get back to Oliver. On occasion someone would greet you and you’d stop to chat for a moment to avoid being rude, which results in Oliver making his way to you since you’d been gone for so long. 

You’re conflicted as you dance with Oliver, your head resting on his shoulder as he sways with you in time with the song playing. Sae had been your ultimate wish, and it would’ve been a dream come true to have him choose you at least once. But to know that it wouldn’t have ever happened, not because of Oliver but because of soccer ? A re-entry of the knife that had been thrust into your heart all those years ago. 

“Everything okay?”

“Why do you ask?” You look up from his shoulder, smiling when he leans in to kiss the tip of your nose. 

“You were gone a while, and you didn’t come back with the drinks, and you looked a bit upset which is why I went and scooped you up.” He paid such close attention to you, and he kissed your nose again with a soft smile that made you melt all over again. “I’m assuming you ran into him.”

“Yeah, but it’s fine. He’s stupid, and I have you and you make me the happiest lady in the world.”

“He fumbled the most beautiful girl in the world, like the idiot he is.”

And you hate soccer, you truly do, but you hate more that you had to dig that grave up again every time you saw Sae - even if it was just in passing. Sae’s impact on your feelings is something you’re not sure you’ll ever have control over, and it’s not fair to Oliver that you’re so easily impacted by another. Oliver was warm , with a smile that could melt glaciers and held you like he would be your defender set to protect you from any harm. You deserved to bask in the sun after spending so long chasing after Sae in the cold darkness that came with his uncertainty. 

“Do you wanna go fuck in the bathroom? Might make you feel better.”

“Tempting offer but I kinda enjoy you being a starter on the team and also employed.”

“You just like a man in uniform.”

“Yeah.” Your agreement has him grinning, you weren’t at all shy about liking how he looked in his gear. “But you’re my favorite man in uniform, Captain.”

[hoe4sports]

“Take care of Clara” p1

Jessie Fleming x Reader

A/N: Mentions of car accidents and death, anxiety . P2 here.

Summary: An unplanned meeting between your daughter and Jessie ends up with your daughter as the mascot. But your daughter has anxiety, and it’s about to break lose.

“Mmm, Jess, the door” you mumbled half asleep as you and your girlfriend Jessie was snoozing in bed a lay Saturday morning. Your head was pounding from dehydration. Jessie had the weekend off, and you had decided to have a date night with a few drinks. A few being closer to 10, but that was besides the point.

*DUNK, DUNK, DUNK*

“JESSIE, the door!!” You yelled as you kicked a half asleep Jessie out of bed. It was her apartment after all, and you had only been dating for 15 months. It was a good 15 months. You had gone on a few weekend trips together doing anything from hiking to going to the beach. It was nice, it was casual which was obvious considering you had been best friends for well over 10 years. Practically growing up hand in hand until you moved away as a kid, and since the world wasn’t very online back then; you lost contact. Things had changed when you went to a friends dinner party and you had found your designated seat next to a name card that said “Jessie”. When she sat down, you couldn’t believe it. You instantly clicked as you talked all through the night, not noticing anyone else. That night you walked home together and exchanged phone numbers, immediately feeling like back in the days when you would bike around in your neighbourhood and Jessie would be giggling beside you. At first the friendship was platonic, but after a few months of talking and hanging out, you had drunkenly admitted to liking her and when she asked you about it the next morning; there was no room for refusal.

“Oh my god, hold on will ya” Jessie said under her breath as she was jumping on one leg to get her shorts on. She was about to run out to the door when you shot her a look. “Jess, look, I like your tits; they are mine and I would like it to stay that way” you said as you gestured down; she had forgotten to put on a top. She blushed to the color of a tomato and sweared under her breath as she threw on your tank top from last nights. As she walked out to sort out whatever was going on, you grabbed your phone. All out of battery, of course. Luckily Jessie had made sure to have a charger at your side of the bed so you could have access to charging whenever you needed; especially considering you would struggle with sleep from time to time. Well technically, it was her bed, but the side was also technically yours since that was where you’d sleep when you stayed over just like the right side was always her side when she was staying over at yours. You placed down your phone in exchange for the water bottle that Jessie had gotten for you after you had went to bed. The water was still somewhat cold and it felt soothing going down your sore throat. “Ehm, Y/N/N!” You heard from the front door. “This is all you babe!” You shouted back as you giggled, jumping a little when your phone was finally turning on. Her apartment, her neighbour, her issues. You suddenly stopped dead in your tracks. It was weird, you could swear that you heard a tiny voice. You shook it off and tapped in the code of your SIM card. 3-0-0-1. Then you heard the voice again, slightly concerned as you held your breath trying to figure out what was going on. “I really think this is something that you might wanna sort out, I would love to but I haven’t really met her because you wanted to make sure that we-“ Jessie rambled as you heard her footsteps closing in on the bedroom door. But she was cut off by small sobs and it struck you like lightning. You could recognise those cries a mile away, as they belonged to your daughter, Clara.

Clara was extremely shy, and was in treatment working to overcome her biggest fear before it could develop into something worse. She was only 5, but had endured enough hardship for a lifetime. The only place she didn’t feel shy was on the field with her little teammates. That was where she could let everything go and just play. You has gained guardianship over her when your sister and her husband had tragically passed away during a high speed car accident when Clara was just a baby. You had been the only motherly figure that she’d know since she was 6 months old. Your parents weren’t able to take her as they were getting older and had their own health issues, so you decided there was no other choice but to adopt her honouring your sister’s wishes. Jessie barged in and you could see the panic in her eyes. You’d probably also panic if it wasn’t for the raging headache you had going on in the background. You quickly jumped out of the bed and threw on your shorts and Jessie’s UCLA sweater before you bolted towards the door. There she was, your bestfriend with your little daughter clinging on to her leg. “Mommy” she sobbed as you reached your arms towards her while still walking towards the front door as your daughter ran into your arms clinging to you as if the world was ending. Clara wasn’t good with changes in plans, especially not when the plans was something she had looked forward to. “Hi Ella, what’s uh, sorry, why are you here again?” You asked confused as you had already planned for her and Clara to spend the weekend together while you were with Jessie. You hoisted your daughter up on your hips causing her to relax and lean into your side while placing a hand on your neck. You kissed her head as you held her tight and whispered; “Hi princess, it’s okay, mommy’s got you. You are safe.” The words causing her sobbing to soften. “Hi Y/N, I am so sorry but my brother has gotten into an accident and it’s bad so mom asked me to catch the first flight home. I tried calling you, but I could get through and you weren’t at home, so I had no option but to bring her here or take her with me to Wisconsin which I could but I don’t have her passport.” She said as she had a serious grin on her face. “Oh my god, I’m sorry for not answering. My phone was dead. It’s all good, go be with your family. Tell your mom that I’m seeing her love” you said as she nodded and handed you her little pink backpack with her pink Nike cleats in before running towards the taxi waiting to take her to the airport. You sat your daughter down in Jessie’s couch as your pulled her comfort blanket out of her bag to wrap around her before turning her favourite show on the iPad in hopes that it would distract her enough to let you pack.

Your thoughts raced in sync with your heart as you paced to the bedroom to pick up your stuff in an instant terrified of what Jessie would say. She looked terrified when she came to tell you that your daughter was there, and you knew that it wasn’t the right time. Jessie wouldn’t want to waste her weekend on a kid, let alone a kid that wasn’t hers when she only had a few limited weekends of each year. Clara was also a lot more demanding than your standard kid which meant that it was harder for others to connect with her. There was this tiny voice in your head that were trying to convince you that Jessie would think Clara was too much. This exact thing had happened before and it left both you and your daughter heartbroken when they left because Clara was too much. That day you vowed yourself to never let anyone close to your daughter again. It had worked perfectly until you met Jessie.

You grabbed your bag as you scattered around the room to find all your belongings before Jessie could come out from the en-suite. “Love, what’s going on?” A familiar voice said from behind you making you jump but immediately relax when you felt the warmth of her hands on your waist. “It’s was Ella, she had to go to Wisconsin because her brother was in an accident. So I need to take care of Clara. This has been nice and all but we shouldn’t be bothering you on your weekend off.” You mumbled as you could feel tears burning behind your eyelid while you got out of her grip to find your last missing items. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, I can pretend to be your friend if that makes it easier?” Jessie said as she pulled you into a hug and wrapped her arms around you as if she was a baby koala. “I have told you about how Clara is? She’s very shy, anxious and have big issues with talking to people. I get that she’s challenging, but she’s a good kid. I get-“ your rambling was cut off by Jessie. “If you let me, I’ll gladly spent time with the both of you today darling” she finished as you nodded and a tear rolled down your chin in relief.

“Clara?” You said carefully as you walked towards her making sure not to scare her. She looked up at you and nodded, feeling shy of the unfamiliar house around her. “Mommy, home?” She said with tears in her eyes scared of why she wasn’t home. She didn’t really feel safe in new places, let alone places you couldn’t prepare her for like the psychologist had advised you to. You sat down next to her as you tucked her long brown hair behind her ear making her little earrings show. Earrings she had begged you for since she could talk. “We are not home, that’s right. We are at Jessie’s house. Jessie is mommy’s friend.” You said as you took her into your lap while Jessie sat down next to you. “Do you wanna say hi to Jessie?” You asked as she shoved her head into your sweater and shook her head. You shot an apologetic smile to Jessie, but she mounthed “it’s okay” to you.

—

“Pass it Kiera!” Clara yelled as she ran across with the ball on the field outrunning all the other little girls. «I honestly don’t know where she gets it from, you know. She’s fast and she is very mature.” You said as your eyes watched over your daughter with the bright pink shoes and the bright pink shirt. “She’s a natural, way better than I was her age” Jessie said as she rested her hand on your thigh. In this moment, everything felt perfect. It felt like you were normal. Like any other girl with her partner and their daughter. “Hello miss Y/N, did you finally bring Clara’s mom? Gosh, they look so much alike! I could’ve spotted their bond from a mile away.” Another football mom exclaimed as she sat down. Sure, your daughter had chocolate brown hair and the same warm deep brown eyes as Jessie, but you had never considered their similarities. When you compared them, they were spitting imagine. You had blonde hair and blue eyes just like your sister, qnd none of you had anything close to athletic skills. Your little girl however? She had a gift, a talent and a drive to play. “Something like that, yes” Jessie said as you snapped out of your thoughts. You realised that you forgot to answer the other mom. Crap. Jessie squeezed your hand as you relaxed. “Well, Miss?” The mom continued. “Jessie” your girlfriend said as she smiled towards the woman. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Jessie.”

*4 months later*

You were walking along on the sidewalk with Clara in one hand as you were headed to the park to meet Jessie. She had met your daughter a bunch of times, and it was definitely a process as Clara still refused to talk to Jessie. The issue wasn’t that she didn’t like her, because she did. But she couldn’t get out a word whenever she tried. Jessie on the other hand wasn’t bothered the slightest. She’d talk to Clara, but not expected any response which was making Clara feel safe. “Look princess, it’s Jessie” you said as you pointed towards the Canadian. She looked in the direction and gripped your hand while her feet were shuffling next to you. “What’s in her hand, mom?” She said almost soundlessly as she noticed the gift in Jessie’s hand. “I don’t know, I’ll have to ask her when we get there.” A few minutes later, you were 10 steps from meeting Jessie. Jessie hunched down to be in Clara’s level as you approached. “Hi doll, I got you something!” Jessie said excitedly as Clara’s eyes widened. The box was pink and sparkling with a silver glitter bow on top. Jessie held out the box as Clara held your hand tight. “Do you want me to open the box so you can see what is inside?” Jessie continued patiently as your daughter nodded excitedly. Jessie’s hand pulled the top part of the bow towards Clara and she gestured for her to pull it. Clara’s little hand was still shaky, but she touched the bow as she pulled carefully. “Wow Clara, you are such a smart girl!” Jessie said as she removed the rest of the bow and opened the lid of the box before she held the box out in front of your daughter. Clara peeked into the box and gasped as she covered her mouth with her hand. Her face moved towards you as her eyes were sparkling. Jessie pulled out the gift revealing the tiny little Chelsea jersey with “Fleming” on the back. “See Clara, it has my last name and my number so we can match!” Jessie explained as she flipped the jersey around with a toothy grin. Clara was in awe and her eyes were lit up. It made you melt and it didn’t help when your daughter dropped your hand as she embraced Jessie into a hug. Jessie looked as surprised as you before she carefully wrapped her hand around Clara while the other hand touched her head. Clara pulled away from the hug smiling as she beamed and did a few more excited jumps. “Do you want to try it on?” Jessie asked as Clara instantly nodded. “Can I help you?” Jessie asked as bit hesitant as she feared that she had pushed her too far. Clara took a moment to make up her mind before she nodded and let go of your hand. Her arms reached out as Jessie slipped it over her head. “Maybe you can wear it when you come to see me play on Sunday?” Jessie asked as Clara’s eyes lit up. She had always talked about how she wanted to see Jessie play football on the big field, not just in your backyard. However, she made sure to only tell you. Clara’s gaze shifted towards you as she sent you her best please look without using words. “Yes Clara, we can go watch Jessie play on Sunday.” You confirmed as Clara jumped up and down once again attacking Jessie into a hug causing Jessie to lose her balance and fall to her back from the squat position she was in with Clara giggling on top of her.

*The following Sunday*

“Alright Claramell” you said as you sung her nickname. You had made it up as she loved caramels as a baby. She looked up at your from her little drawing table where she was busy drawing and colouring. “We have to put our jersey on when the timer ends” you said as you stated the timer so she could feel in control and make things easier for everyone included. “Mommy, will Jessie be there?” She asked as she looked up at your with her chocolate labrador eyes. “Yes, Jessie will definitely be there. She is gonna play, and we are gonna watch her! And if you want to, you can walk with her on the field with the other kids like we talked about. That means that you can walk out to the middle of the field with the other team and judges holding Jessie’s hand and then the teams sing. After that, you run back to the tunnel.” Clara nodded as she turned around to keep drawing again drawing as precisely as her hands would allow her. “Okay, Claramell, I’m just gonna get ready in the bathroom” you said as you pressed a kiss to her head and breathed in the balsamspray in her hair.

You got to the bathroom, and hopped in the shower. Your thoughts were quickly wandering around what would happen with Clara on the field. You had told her countless times that she didn’t have to do it, and that she could say no whenever she liked; but once she got in the field, she had to stay with Jessie. All kinds of scenarios took place in your head. The biggest worry of them all would be a full blown panic attack mid stadium in front of thousands of people not being able to get to your little girl. What would Jessie do if that were to happen? Would she leave you? Clara had yet to open up to her and hadn’t spoken a full sentence to her. The warm water washed your worries away as the damp of the water filled the room making it feel somewhat close to a tropical island. The damp hot air felt soothing in your lungs. After thinking and worrying for a bit, you hopped out and dried yourself off. You rummaged through your drawer and found your favourite mascara, some tinted sunscreen, a sheer lipstick and some blush from nars that you got as a teen. Lord knows that all girls has that one old makeup product that dosent compare, and you were no exception. The makeup made your face come alive before you glanced at the clock and realised that it was time. “Clara! It’s time!” You called out as your heard Clara’s little slippers tap on the floor in your direction. “Okay mommy, a bun with long hair” she said as she popped up into the sink in front of her, it was basically routine by now. She would come in and you would do her hair in whatever way she wanted it. Today was a half up half down kinda day, and you were softly brushing through her beautiful brown hair. “Mommy,Jess gonna be there?” She asked as she looked at herself in the mirror with her little feet in the sink. You nodded as you finished doing her hair. “Yes, Jessie will be there” you confirmed as her little brows furrowed. “Promise?” “Pinky promise.”

*2 hours later*

The stadium was huge compared to Clara. She had her little Fleming Jersey on, and she had insisted to wear her bracelet that she made at home a few weeks ago with pink beads. Clara’s hand tightened around yours as she stared at the stadium and the tons of people going in. She looked up at you with fear in her eyes and a stressed look in her little face. “Mommy, carry?” She whispered as you instantly popped her up in your hip wanting to hold her until she refused to be held anymore. People would always scold you for carrying her, but your sister would’ve carried her until she physically couldn’t and you intended to keep her wish alive. She wasn’t gonna want to be carried until she was a teen, so you wanted to make the most of the time you had with her. You followed the instructions that Jessie had given you, finding the side entrance with guards checking id’s towards a database with invited and pre-register people only. It was fairly quick as there was a significant difference in the amount of people that were at the special entrance.

When you got through the area you followed the signs until you found a room where the mascots were waiting. Clara was intimidated by the amount of children and adults and causing her to cling to you like cling wrap. “You can always say no, and nobody will be upset Claramell” you whispered as she nodded. She had insisted on bringing her pink purse in the shape of a heart with what she said was important things. Usually that would include her fake keys, a lip balm and a snack. After a few minutes, a women came to get you leading you through the big corridors of the gigantic stadium. You were looking at all the tapestry on the walls with pictures of the players in action. “Mommy, mommy, it’s Jess” your daughter whispered as she wiggled out of your arms and bolted towards Jessie. “Is it my two favourite girls coming to see me play? How lucky am I!” Jessie said picking Clara up as she spun her around and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Clara nodded and placed her hand on Jessie’s chest for safety. You greeted Jessie as you had a wide grin on your face from seeing your daughter and your girlfriend together. Jessie held Clara tight and it relaxed you knowing that she was doing what she could to make her feel safe. “Alright, walk on in 2!” A guy with a big headset yelled out in the tunnel. Clara seemed to get somewhat startled of his sudden loud voice. Her little heart beating like crazy in her chest. “Alright, Clara, we are gonna go out there in front of all those people while you hold my hand and then we will sing. Afterwards, you can run to mommy or I can carry you there.” Jessie said as she placed Clara down. Clara nodded attentively as Jessie unzipped her team jacket that Jessie had gotten for the occasion. You bent down and kissed Clara’s cheek as she smiled back at you. You had to go to the back of the line as the players were about to enter which Clara didn’t seem to mind. Her little hand held onto Jessie’s as they both turned around to wave at you. She seems excited, and she seemed like she felt safe with Jessie. Her curious eyes were wandering around the tunnel and towards the opening of it towards the cameras. The loud league music started on the field and the referees started walking on followed by the lot of the players in two lines. Just before Jessie and Clara was supposed to move out, Clara stalled. You could see Clara tensing up. Her little shoulders rising towards her ears. Her head turned towards you and you saw her eyes becoming glassy. Her lip was going from a pout to a wobble. Her eyebrows furrowed in a tense frown. Her chest moving slightly heavier than usual.

Your pulse immediately went up and you felt a need to scoop her up before this escalated. Was this gonna end in yet another breakdown? Would this trigger her anxiety? How were you gonna get a hold of her? And worst of all; was this gonna embarrass Jessie enough to want to end it with you?

[hxltic]

i had no idea this was sent in so this could be super late but hi ofc!! Also tysm i love you <33 also i’m sorry i didn’t know how rough you wanted it👩🏾‍🦯👩🏾‍🦯

𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐒. 𝑺𝑼𝑵𝑨 𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑹Ō

part one | part two

Genre: smut

Warning: heavy degradation, handjob, blowjob, facefuck, public bathroom sex, spit kink, brother’s best friend

He’s one of your brother’s dumb friends (the actual dumbest—in your opinion), and no matter how much you locked yourself in your room to be excluded from whatever activities prolonged out there, the inevitable feeling of hunger is sadly inescapable.

Following a creak from your door, right before another from the stairs, you cascaded down into the living room. Openly, the kitchen stood nice and bright, accompanied by snacks aligned on the island that held several filled lanyards with attached keys.

Arriving down the stairs in your red pajama set was the same thing as yelling and notifying everyone you were there. Heads turned. You didn’t take the time to count, frankly because it felt like crawling into the lion’s den and now needing an escape. You should’ve known there were people coming by the way everything was taken out of the pantry and neatly placed anyway. Your hair was frazzled from rolling around trying to get comfortable; your reddened face was visual proof of the relentless makeup you scrubbed off; the several necklaces you wore and forgot to remove were now entangled in each other—it would be just your luck for a bunch of boys to be over. Not ones you were trying to impress, persay, but the last ones that needed to see you in your tired hobo fit.

“Whatever you’re about to say—don’t. don’t be a dickhead,” you call out. You were getting this snack and going back upstairs, negating anything that could be said to you from here and then with your course voice.

“You think so horribly of me, what’d I do?”

Suna’s sly tone carried across the room to bring you to a stop. It was obvious was him; when was it ever not him? The only other people were Kita and the twins, but they were preoccupied.

“Exist, essentially,” you rebut, and after selecting a bag of skittles and a cosmic brownie, you reach over and grab the keys farthest to the left before your leave; staring him dead in the low, mustard, dumb eyes.

The keys were his. You recall because a few years back, you plucked off a single tag or attachment every time he came over. It took a bit for him to notice how weightless it had become and demand for all of them back, so you made him beg after assigning him as your personal chef for the day.

Which you weren’t a horrible person, so you kept them tucked away in a box on your dresser.

He examined the action to be reminded of this, but let you go nonetheless. He’d be damned if he let you see his smugness falter.

“Your hair looks great,” he taunted, with his long arms spread across the couch lazily. Your brother giggled from afar. To the back of your head, slim eyes scanned you in a judgmental manner—the same one you usually glanced at him with. The steps you took became bouncy and joyous.

Then you remembered how your hair actually looked, so you trudged up the stairs and grumbled, “jump off a cliff.”

You hadn’t completely decided what you’d do with the keys, but you’d most likely hold them hostage in your room somewhere. The plan was just to be a minor inconvenience.

And this was effective for the moment being—rattling Suna with the flashbacks—but sleep weighed your eyelids and, obviously, the door was locked.

. .

3:48 A.M.

A continuous knock drives you out of your slumber. Grumbling, your sleeping feet swing over the side of the bed and you rip the comforter from your body. The pitter-patter of steps notify the dark-haired man of his disturbances, guiding one side of his lip to lift and his toned arms to cross as he patiently awaits you.

Your tongue swipes at your dehydrated lips and your fingers correct your messy braided hair before opening the door. Suna languidly leans on the parallel hallway wall, sending you a look that it is too damn early in the morning to acknowledge. With the little strength in your freshly awaken arm, you throw the door closed to turn your back and close your eyes for the journey back to bed.

Suna’s sneaker sat where the door should’ve connected to the wall. He already knew the best of your unkind tendencies. The corner of the door swept into his large hand following its ricochet and he pulled you by the forearm, twisting your body to him. Your face slammed into his chest due to your lack of stabilization. You got a whiff of his faint cologne.

He didn’t even apologize. Fuckface.

“Jesus. No need to be so rough,” you croaked.

“It can get a lot worse than that,” a genuine smiley grin spread onto his features as he tilted his head and inspected down the hall for anyone that could hear him. Of course you hadn’t caught this in your state, not even processing the implied indecencies. “Maybe you shouldn’t close the door on me.”

He pressed the pad of his finger to your forehead and presses you back off him.

“Why are you here? Like for real.” Nothing was funny and you need to go to sleep. You have work in the morning. If you were awake enough, you would’ve taken the forehead poke as disrespect.

He treads the hand not on the door through his dark hair (which somehow returned to the exact same position it held before) and shrugged, “I can’t get home.”

“So?”

“You have my keys.”

Oh shit. You did bring this upon yourself though.

You sigh and rub the side of your face drowsily, “I’ll get them in the morning. I literally don’t even remember where I put them to be honest.”

As bad as he wants to be irritated, he can’t. The silhouette of your figure in front of him was something else. This was the day that he learned you don’t wear bottoms to sleep, but wear them just to keep some dignity whenever you show your face downstairs. In other words, you only put them on to eventually come back into your natural habitat and kick them off.

Your half naked body stood swaying in the doorway, reflecting into Suna’s yellowish eyes. Had he forgotten to respond? His gaze flickers before focusing strictly on yours. “Let me come look.”

“No, I’ll get them in the morning.”

“I’m coming in.”

Not very carefully, he shuffles past you, then your bed, unaffected by your futile efforts to groan and push him away. He had a sleeper build, unfortunately. As he rummaged through your drawers, he comments, “This would be a lot easier on the both of us if you just told me where they were.”

“Never. Get out! I just cleaned up!” You whisper yell into the morning. It seemed to be a sight you could only watch with the weight difference, but you had to try. Your fingertips connect around his small waist so you could push backwards off your heels. Whatever you could muster has done nothing but prove your weakness to him; he continued side-stepping drawer to drawer and smirking at your actions. That stupid expression only made your blood boil. You retreat.

Inevitably, he found your underwear drawer. Nobody wishes for that on themselves, although the way he held aside one of your thongs on a single finger as if it were a hanger, just to re-fold it before neatly placing it back where it once was; even the darkness couldn’t hide your tightening chest and darting eyes trailing everywhere but him.

The crickets were wide awake, and now so were you.

Your spread fingers modify into fists, you plant your feet. You come back full force to grab him. His head dips back in pure laughter while he attempts to be mindful of the time of night, even when his fair hands creep to yours and slowly pry you away from how you were linked around his stomach. Finger after finger.

The carpet floor, however, was not on your side, and your heels suddenly slide under you, between his feet. It also didn’t help that with Suna’s build there wasn’t much to grab onto: his torso is smooth, slim, but hard. Anytime you reached for grip, you just felt the curve of his muscles under the dark blue cotton t-shirt.

The last finger came undone, and you hadn’t realized why he’d swiftly attached himself to your wrists until you immediately saw yourself tumbling backwards, landing with a hard thump loud enough to wake up everybody in the house. The tightness of his grip confuzzled you.

It was one of protection and instinct rather than anything else. He didn’t seem concerned (as foretold by the small hints of laughter emitting from somewhere upwards), so you wondered why he still held your wrists with his arms backwards and you flat on your ass. He gathers himself, lets go, and turns to face you.

Trying to soothe the pounding muscles, you roll on your right and rub the area cautiously. It was most likely redder than your cheeks.

“You know, to be holding me so tight, you didn’t really lessen the fall,” you scowl.

“No, but you also didn’t crack your head open,” he retorts. You just glance at him and that villainous expression once more, one that was plastered on his tilting head in fake pity. You grunt and roll your eyes.

After declining help from your literal downfall, you push off your right hand to get up. Your nose meets a structure. Wood.

It was the wooden footing of your bed, so close that had your head tilted back any further with the force of the fall—it would be a concussion, no doubt.

You pause and return your focus to him. He smirks down at you.

. .

The next dull morning, you groan obnoxiously as you walk in so the shirtless man currently in your kitchen would take the hint and leave. His keys landed with a mix of a thump and a clink on the soft couch from your toss. He curls the island corner holding a bowl of cereal, sweats hanging loose on his hips; however, he just leans and eats, watching your moves silently.

Your uniform was definitely one to strike a customer: leather shorts and short sleeve top perfect for showing off cleavage. You slipped a jacket on and headed out the door. Before you left, it was necessary to shout “When I get back, you better be gone!”

He just rolled his eyes. You weren’t there to watch it, but you knew.

. .

“Of course, I’ll get that right out for you,” you shoot the fakest smile to the middle-aged man leaning probably too close just to be giving an order. Your sneakers spin on the hardwood floors of the food bar and your hand slips the ticket order into the side pocket of your waitress pouch. Audiences of whatever sport on the tvs and bellowing men ring through your ears until you get called by a coworker of yours. The day had been long, and quite frankly, you were just tired and couldn’t give a damn what she had to say.

“Hey, can you take over that table for me?” Dammit.

She curves her soft hands over one of yours she harshly tugged from your side. With pleading eyes so heavy it looked as if she would cry, she continues, “But I also would like you to give this to one of them. The one with the dark hair.”

She retrieves a small, crumpled paper from her unbuckled pouch lying folded on the waitress stand. You peek at it as she forces it into your hand. You glance at her again.

“A lot of people have dark hair, which is it?”

Her head shakes frantically in reassurance, “You’ll just know. Table 17, corner booth. Just please slip it in the check or something like that.”

An unintentional sigh hinting at your annoyance hangs in the air, but it isn’t like you can stop her from leaving, whether you were just about to clock out or not. Apology is displayed on her face nonetheless, so you grant a soft smile and make your way there after her continuous stream of thank you’s.

You wish you hadn’t.

You walk up to the booth occupied by faces that couldn’t get any more familiar, one being the someone you couldn’t stand, the other that was even more intolerable, and Aran. You liked Aran. He was cool.

Suna has nothing but innocent deceit on his face. After looking around for any employees, or rather managers, you drop next to him on the left side.

“What are you doing here!?” You mainly scolded him, but you looked around at the other two as well. Once again, not really Aran; he was never informed of your workplace and it was most likely your brother’s idea.

“We just came to eat. Yknow, like regular customers.” Your head snapped to your own blood, feeding into the torment of what you were experiencing right now. Was this what bullying felt like?

“Now you can eat with us though, it’s the end of your shift anyway.” Suna adds. That wasn’t the case due to circumstances. As long as you have this uniform on and as long as they were a table in the restaurant with no waitress, you weren’t off duty.

“That’s not how that works.”

“Sit here for a bit. Customer’s request.” The ravenette mouths. You doubt that would work either because interaction with customers were limited. Honestly, with how you were dressed, you loved the rule. Suna’s back lifts when his arms reach out around you, creating as much space as possible to remove his jacket. The man lays it out over your lap, covering the pouch and any signification you were on duty with the exception of the shirt, but you leave and walk in with it on so it didn’t matter.

All things aside, you give in, everything goes well. Catching up with Aran was a joy. Ascertaining that Suna took a shower in your home, just to put on another pair of sweats your brother leant him and the same t-shirt he’d just washed overnight, he did not listen to you and did not leave. You wonder if he ran through your room again just for fun.

You ignored the other two most of the time. Having to see your brother every day; there was no reason to converse with him, but the other took this personally. Extremely personal.

He kept doing things to get your attention. When the person taking your shift came as waiter, he ordered for you just as the words began to spill from your mouth. Only having four people in a wall booth, he had more than enough room to manspread—so he left you nothing but a sliver of space. You tried to scoot him over manually, but of course, it didn’t work. You place both hands on his thigh in an attempt once more.

Having not learned your lesson previously, you’re going to try again. Your fingernails dig into his skin so it would hurt (but he didn’t flinch); you push with all your might and he continued casual conversation. Shoving again, you watch as his eyes flicker in shock, frantically glance to you, and revert as if nothing happened, even though a stern hand held the top of your left still. He fake laughs it off to the rest of the table. So fake, you hadn’t realized it was.

A large, pale hand squeezes yours in its spot, prohibiting movement. Was he ticklish? You force your hand back and forth against his thigh, your hands being unable to lift but having no choice but to move with his flesh, and he squeezes even harder. This hand was closest to his torso, located on the inside of the very top thigh area. So high it was basically his hip.

You hadn’t realized your nails curled right into his groin. Unaware of what was actually happening, you continued for the sole reason it was bothering him in some type of way, resulting in warning looks being shot to you with his tired eyes. Ones you ignored. It hurt because of the coffin shape, Suna had to admit, but it didn’t deflect the blood rushing there.

Finally, his leg closed, but he took a tight hold of your guilty hand and pulled you roughly. He mumbles sternly with his mouth to your ear, “Sit still, you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You just laughed in his face and put both hands to your chin, elbows stationed on the rectangular table. You’d do it again when he wasn’t looking.

He’d caught you less than halfway there the second time, but third is the charm. His guard was let down.

The air was thin and light with loose conversation. Aran’s sister was fine and your brother was thinking of applying for another scholarship. When everything seemed to have died down, french tips clanked against the counter impatiently and your left hand dove under the table once more.

In your peripheral the male visibly stuttered, hips lifting for adjustment and eyes darting to you nervously. This time they hadn’t left and it took everything in you not to acknowledge the mustard gaze. To make it worse, the squeeze of your hand allowed an audible grunt to fall from his lips. His eyes fell as well so your friends noticed, questioned it, but the false voice you’ve fabricated over years of customer service was just too believable.

You squeeze again, the muscle unknowingly growing under your hand. He became fidgety and his breath slightly irregular. Turning your head to glance at him, he locates your eyes immediately—the eyes usually low and apathetic—were yelling to stop. A mischievous giggle worsens the situation, causing his eyes to slim down angrily. He’d prove to you why.

He takes a hold of your wrist and stretches your fingers using his own, sliding them between. He adjusts in his seat again before flattening your hand around his print, using his other hand to cover his mouth casually as he leaned forward on the table. His digits wrap around yours, causing you to wrap around him.

He gave you a preview. With no underwear to hide any inch of it under the fabric, you (he) basically caressed from the base all the way to the tip, the outline becoming more prominent and his body shifting under your touch. You look at him in disbelief at: what he did, what you unconsciously did, or in all his, what—a solid 8 inches at least? If you had to guess?

The idea was to scare you off, but it did quite the opposite. Whenever your hand was released, much to his surprise, it just returned with the same motion tenfold. Luckily, nobody else could hear the sudden deep groan over the laughing people, and the way his back landed with a puff on the soft booth seat only looked somewhat out of the norm. His face was flooding cherry red no matter how bad he didn’t want it to. Both his hands came up to run over his eyes, forehead, and cheeks. Now he braces himself on the seat, gazing down at the sight of your pretty fingers and nails dragging up and down the entirety of him through his pants. The friction was indescribable.

He held watch as you dipped past them.

You knew you’d do anything to get under his skin, but not like this. Of course people found Suna attractive, light athletic build with killer thighs and small eyes, only to be complimented by his dark brown locks and good style (when he cared). So when Nali passed the note to you to give to someone, you could assume it was her number. It’s somewhere lost on the table now. Primarily because if something did happen, coming downstairs to more than two people you can’t stand would send you over the edge and he doesn’t need anyone boosting his ego more than it already is.

But now as you’re stroking him slowly, only the movement of cloth from your hand’s action could describe what was going on. Apart from the man’s darkening gaze too. He was beaming fire into your neck, just as you were chatting away.

“Are you okay?” Your brother is worried for his friend who was flashing a sickly face hinted with anger. The plump of your lip met white teeth, a reddened spot building up as you tried your best to prevent any unwanted facial expression or laughter. Aran became intrigued as well.

Sunarin comes forward to statue both elbows on the table, but without saying a word. Consequently, the question hung low in the air, creating palpable tension at the silence and his direct, unmoving eyes. You ignore it.

Instead, you ring two fingers and ride over the heightened band right where the tip begins. You tighten your hand. Your fingers close around it and meet at the peak, collecting pre-cum and the last of Suna’s patience. The job is done and your hand retreats.

“Yeah.” Breathlessly but barely noticeable, he continues, “Your sister’s just a pain in the ass.”

You dramatically gasp and keep the façade going, just to eventually let him out as per his request for the bathroom. The two boys laugh over their food as Aran receives almost every bad deed you’ve done to his former teammate, just giving him an idea on how you two operate, though you announce your leave to completely end shift and take the pouch off. Once you reach the back and remove any resemblance of your relationship to the restaurant, you reach the one person bathroom. It was a fairly good size.

“Hello? Sunarin?”

©️hxltic

[dollwrites]

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 — 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!marleyan!reader, obvious manipulation, reader definitely takes advantage of Reiner’s not so healthy mental state so dub con, mild angst, handjob, needy!sub!reiner, body worship, size kink, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 02.28.2023. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ perverted by elita

“What would you do for me?”

“Anything…” Reiner moaned, his hips jutting forward. you slide around on his lap, but you don’t mind. his face is buried between the open buttons of your uniform top, panting hot air against your cleavage. his tiers smear grateful kisses over the tops of your breasts, but he doesn’t dare reach to unclasp your bra without permission.

bring him back.

that had been what your superiors told you.

they could tell that the Armored Titan had changed; whether that meant he was slipping out of Marleyan control or had simply lost himself over the years he spent on Paradise Island, it didn’t matter to them. they’d sent you with Zeke, straight to where Reiner had been resting in the infirmary; the whole time you’d walked side by side with Zeke, you wondered how he could be okay with this.

how was it that he, like the Marleyans, didn’t mind playing mind games with his soldiers?

“He likes you.” Zeke had broken silence once the two of you were just outside the infirmary.

“You’re his War Chief,” you replied, looking away, “he would listen to you if you ordered him to. There’s no need to bring me into it.”

“He likes you.” Zeke repeated, taking a long drag off a cigarette, “Of course he’d listen to me, but he needs more than orders right now.” he’d given you a knowing look from beneath the rims of his glasses, staring down his nose at you. “I know you’ve done it before, when he first came home.”

your brows knit together, and you tried to glare at him, but in the end, your gaze fell to your own feet. “I told the general I didn’t want to do that anymore.” you grumble; that familiar, sick sensation twisting your stomach into knots. Reiner was a good man, if not a little misguided, and even though you knew that he must know that the Marleyan military uses you against him, that you only visited him, kissed him, slept with him because you had been ordered to do so, he didn’t seem to mind. you did, though. because you knew he deserved more.

you just couldn’t give it to him, and he wouldn’t seek it out on his own.

“With all due respect,” Zeke started in a low tone, “I don’t really give a damn what you think of me for bringing you here. If you think I’m wicked for toying with Reiner’s head, then you may be right.” you glare up at him, open your mouth to speak, but he’s no longer looking at you. “My Vice Chief is standing on a metaphorical ledge, and I don’t want to see him jump. If dangling your cunt in front of him will talk him down from it, then I’ll do that. If the general permits it, I’ll drag you to him whether you want to or not. I’ll toss you over my shoulder and carry you, kicking and screaming, to his bed every night if it will keep his head on straight.”

you could’ve slapped him— it was well within your ability to make his cheek burn red with the imprint of your hand, and even he wouldn’t have stopped you, but you don’t. something about the way he spoke, with the certainty he used, told you it didn’t matter how you protested. he and the general shared the same sentiments. they didn’t care how badly you messed Reiner up when you played with his heart; they only needed him to fight.

Pieck was waiting at the door, a lazy smile gracing her lips, and she waved you inside, leaning against one crutch. you pondered, for a moment, about telling Zeke how despicable he was. but, it would do no good. so, you simply trudged forward, slipping inside and allowed the Eldian girl to lead you to Reiner’s room.

to your duty.

“Anything?” you repeat, biting back a frown. you didn’t want him to see how much you loathed how easily he threw himself into the flames for you. your svelte digits caress the bulging veins on his cock in butterfly strokes. it stood straight up between your clothed bodies, swollen, jabbing at the air and the palm of your hand when you wrapped a fist around it, begging for attention from you. you tilt your head back and exhale when he sucks hard on your clavicle, both massive arms wrapped around your midsection and keeping you pulled tight against him. he was big, much bigger than you, and that always made you a little nervous. nervous that he might, one day, stop being so submissive. “Reiner—“ you breathe, unsteady, and he whimpers against your skin, rocking his hips more fervently now that you’ve called his name. he always loved the sound. “What would you do for me?” you repeat, the gentle pad of your thumb teasing his slit. precum frosts it, and the muscles in his arms draw taut.

“Fuck,” he slurs, dragging his open mouth over your breasts, his brows furrowed, “anything! I’d kill for you.” his breath is shaky as he lifts his head, his golden gaze desperate to meet yours. you avoid it, mostly, and stare at the dusky rose colored blush across his cheeks. “I—I’d die for you…” he moans, and you allow your hand to gather all of his essence and use it to ease the friction as your hand glides south, back down to squeeze the thick base. “If that’s what you want from me, I’ll do it, I will…”

“Sh, sh, sh…” you croon, filling your voice with as much honey as you could murmur, pursing your lips and pumping your fist in slow, firm strokes that had a sordid whine rumbling in his throat, “I don’t want you to die for me, Reiner. I want you to live for me. I want you to fight for me.”

he was nodding, leaning as close to your lips as he could, his own working to capture your couplet, even as you kept them just out of reach. to kiss him would only make lying to him harder, even if he wanted to live in the fantasy so badly. your pace quickens, only just, and his grip around your smaller frame tightens. “I will, I am.” you knew that, if he wanted to force you, it wouldn’t be difficult. he could easily overpower you, steal what he wanted ( which, right now was your kiss ), and you could do nothing to stop him. but he doesn’t. he begs you, just under his breath, moaning your name until you’re lightheaded. “Kiss me… please…” you knew he was close; he was throbbing in your hand, bucking his hips to hump the tight fist you used to jerk him off. he was going to cum, and he needed your kiss to push him over the edge.

“As soon as you promise me.” you urge, running your free hand up to grasp at his cropped, golden hair at the nape of his neck. you didn’t have to pull at it, he leaned back willingly, his lips leaving a peppering of needy, heated pecks over your jaw, as if pleading to be able to land one on your tiers. “Promise me you’ll fight for me.”

“Please…”

“Promise you’ll fight with me.”

“Fuck, p—please…”

“You won’t leave us.”

Reiner nodded to every syllable, his eyelids fluttering weak, but he managed to keep his eyes on you, sucking on your jawline, inching up, hopefully, to kiss at the side of your mouth. “I s—swear… I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight… I’ll do whatever you want, I’m yours to command… use me on the battlefield or off, I don’t care. Just please… kiss me!”

you shudder.

you were using him. he knew that. he was just too obsessed with you to care.

pumping harder, faster, you allow your lips to part, and a gentle tilt of your head towards him encourages his to find yours, as if rewarding him for being the most obedient toy soldier he could be. Reiner grunts and devours your mouth in hard, desperate kisses, locking you in place with his powerful biceps. you keep pumping, the other hand still buried in his hair as he comes undone, panting and rumbling a pathetic slew of thank yous into your cavern.

his head drops forward when he needs air, leaving you panting, too, and praises your soft breasts again. his tongue tracing what you thought might be his name as he snorts against them, glazing your hand and his twitching cock in the warm release that erupts in furious, little spurts. he’s still so pent up, even though you’d seen him a couple of months before, and you wonder if he ever slept with any other women.

or, did he always save himself for you?

“You’re good, Reiner.” you whisper, before you even realize you’ve done it, resting your chin on the crown of his head. carefully, you pet the damp tendrils back, and nibble on your lip. “So good.”

Reiner lets out a partial moan, but it’s mostly a heavy sigh of relief, before he nuzzles into your cleavage. “Don’t leave me yet.” he mutters, shifting underneath you. you move, too, slow to allow him to pick the position. he guides you on to your back, and lays against you, keeping his face buried in your heaving chest. he closes his eyes, breathing easier as you run your fingers through his hair. “You can sneak out later just, please wait until I’m asleep.”

[molly-ghuleh]

Ungrumpify Your Papa: Papa Emeritus II x afab!reader

Summary: It's your first holiday season with Secondo and you're determined to make him less of a grump.

Words: 6.9k (nice)

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI!!, reader is AFAB but there are no gendered words/pronouns, smut, fluff, lingerie, light dom!Secondo, teasing, brief mentions of overstimulation, holiday feelings, discussions of religion

AO3

A/N: Happy day 2 of the XXXMas at the Ministry series! Check out day 1 with Primo by @copias-sewer-rat in the links below, and stay tuned for day 3 with Terzo by @ghulehunknown and day 4 with Copia by @bupia (who also put together these incredible graphics)!!

Day 1 (Dec 20th): Naughty Presents (AO3)

Day 2 (Dec 21st): Ungrumpify Your Papa (you are here!)

Day 3 (Dec 22nd): Mistletoe'd (AO3)

Day 4 (Dec 23rd): Treasure Hunt (AO3)

Secondo is very particular about how he curates his living quarters. His taste is distinct and refined, but not to the point of tackiness. It’s obvious that he’d spent a non-trivial amount of time picking out his furniture after he became Papa, and even more time reorganizing his space to ensure you felt welcome after he’d asked you to move in with him. Every book, every pillow, every little trinket or decoration or memory has a dedicated place somewhere, and each piece is treasured and respected like it has belonged there for all of eternity. 

So, you weren’t surprised when Secondo grumbled when you pulled out a red and gold plaid throw blanket for the holidays, but he’s gracious enough to allow it to live on the couch (so long as it is neatly folded after every use, of course). And you had to stifle your laugh when he’d come home to find a little mistletoe hanging from the threshold of his bedroom and had jumped nearly ten feet in the air thinking it was a spider. 

He came to terms with the mistletoe, though, after realizing that every time he jumped when seeing it from his periphery, you’d come over and kiss him and remind him it was only temporary. He didn’t tell you that he’d let you keep the mistletoe up all year round if it gave him an excuse to kiss you more. 

The tree you want, though… that’s another battle. 

“Please?” You ask sweetly, snuggling with him under the aforementioned red and gold blanket. 

“No, amore,” Secondo says. 

You’re tracing gentle patterns into his bare chest and can feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. You watch as the soft, dark hair dusting his skin catches on your finger. “Explain to me your reasoning.” 

Secondo chuckles—a low, deep sound that you can feel more than hear. “Must I explain myself past the fact that I simply do not want a tree?” 

“But why?” You ask him. You lift yourself up onto an elbow and look down at him. The two of you had built a little nest of sorts in front of the fireplace in his sitting room. It’s the first night that the two of you, as well as the entire Abbey, are absolved from duties in a week-long observance of the solstice and Yule, and you had decided to spend it together, alone, and very naked. 

Secondo sighs but there’s still a little smile on his face. He can’t help but adore you and your insistence. It seems to him that you’re determined to uproot his entire life. He would gladly shed his roots and the soil of comfort and routine they grow in if it meant seeing you happy, but where is the fun in that? He enjoys making you ask for what you want. He enjoys seeing you work for it. And, in some (most) instances, he enjoys pushing you until you resort to begging.

“Because,” Secondo begins, drawing you back down to lay your head on his warm chest, “there is no room for one. And we have nothing to put on it.” 

You laugh. “This room alone is bigger than my old Sibling quarters. There’s plenty of space.” 

“It could catch on fire.” 

“Secondo, you don’t put a tree directly in front of the fireplace.” 

“Well. Suppose there is an ember—“ 

“And,” you playfully cut him off. “We can find things to decorate it with. Warm lights, those red, wooden beads for a garland, little glass ornaments… It can be classy. We can make it match your taste.” 

Your lover is silent for a moment, considering. “There would be pine needles everywhere.” 

You laugh again. His tone of voice tells you that you’re close to cracking him. Oh, you’re well aware of the games he plays with you and take full part in them. The push and pull, the give and take of him letting you believe you’re in control and then showing you that this was his plan all along… even with something as mundane as a holiday tree, your heart speeds up and your face heats just slightly. 

You’re still tired from the evening’s activities, after all. 

“We can get a fake one,” you offer. “Small, too. Nothing unmanageable. And I’ll string the lights on it because it’s a pain in the ass.” 

Secondo traces lines back and forth over your shoulder, tickling your skin. “You speak like the decision is already made, amore.”

“You haven’t given me a good enough reason to back down yet.”

He chuckles again. “Sto solo scherzando. Will it make you happy?” 

You prop yourself up again and press a kiss to his lips. “It will,” you say softly. “But I don’t need a tree to make me happy. If you really don’t want one, we won’t have one.” 

“You said it yourself,” Secondo says against your mouth, “that it is temporary. I will survive.” 

You feel his mouth curl into a small smile against your own when you kiss him again. You’re sure yours must feel the same. 

~~~

You and Secondo stroll leisurely through the rows of trees. The display is pretty, and nostalgic—it’s been staged to look like a small grove of real trees, with the stands cleverly hidden by piles of snow at the bases. Some of the trees are fully decorated, and some have only lights, but most are completely bare to emulate a tree farm. Somehow the staff had managed to make the display smell like pine and a hint of cinnamon, and if you close your eyes and listen to the winter breeze and the jingling of bells on the storefront door, it feels like a real tree farm. 

“You know,” you say to Secondo as you stop in front of a tree with fake snow on it, “you never told me why you didn’t want a tree.” 

Secondo regards the tree for a moment and, seeing how easily the fake snow flakes off of the limbs with just a slight breeze, gently tugs you towards the next one. “It is not necessarily the tree that I am opposed to,” he says. “But the commercialization of what is supposed to be a holiday.” 

You’re silent for a moment as you think about his words. He does have a point. There are a fair few seasonal decorations that you find to be unbearably tacky, but the ones you do enjoy carry a warm nostalgia. “I see,” you muse. “For a while after I converted, it was hard to rationalize the holiday because it’s so ingrained in our culture to be a Jesus thing.” 

“Esattamente,” Secondo nods. “Even though most of it is taken straight from Pagan traditions.” 

You stop in front of a plain tree, not any taller than Secondo, with simple, warm white lights. “That helped me rationalize it,” you tell him. “To know that modern Christmas is an amalgam of different things, and that there’s no right way to celebrate it. It doesn’t make us bad Satanists because we have a tree, or bake cookies, or wrap gifts. There doesn’t have to be any religious undertone.” 

“You are right,” Secondo says after a brief silence. “What is that term… when people use a word incorrectly enough times that the meaning changes.” 

“Colloquialism?” you offer. 

“SÌ. Christmas has become a colloquialism. Yule, Solstice, Saturnalia, Christmas, whatever you wish to call it.” 

“Is that why you never celebrated?” 

Secondo looks at you, and he nearly loses his breath. The sun is going down so the sky is a deep blue, leaving your face to be illuminated only by the warm white lights of the tree in front of you. You look so cozy in your hat and scarf and coat. And you’re trying to understand him, understand why he is not a ‘holiday’ person. How he adores you. 

“To a degree,” he says, looking away because he’s dangerously close to swooping you into his arms and kissing you silly. “The holiday has lost all its meaning beyond materialism. That is the way it seems. Why should I need a holiday to tell me when to gift things to the people who matter?” 

“You don’t, I suppose,” you shrug. “But it’s not completely about that. It’s the thought, the warmth, the togetherness. This time of year is when people want to feel cozy and comfortable and happy. To surround themselves with the people and things they love. It’s cold, and dark, and the holiday allows us to indulge in the things we might feel guilty about at any other time of year.” 

Secondo listens to your voice, and he understands. “I feel a bit like Scrooge,” he says softly. And he does—a bitter old man, learning the true meaning of Christmas… or something.

“Which ghost am I?” You ask, laughing. 

“You are Tiny Tim,” he replies without having to think. “Not a ghost, but I think the wisest character in the whole story.” 

“Satan bless us,” you say in your best impression of a small child. “Every one.” 

In the end, Secondo chooses the tree you’d been standing in front of. He tells you that it was because he likes that it’s small and simple (which is true), but he’d seen how your eyes reflected the small bulbs and decided he couldn’t let that evening be the last time he sees that. 

You also purchase simple glass bulbs, a modest tree skirt, and a silver garland to match Secondo’s green and silver color scheme in his chambers. When you arrive back at the Abbey excited to decorate, however, you remember that you’d forgotten to choose a topper. While he has his back turned to pour the two of you some hot chocolate, you sneak to the closet which houses his papal robes, and when he turns around, he finds his mitre situated crookedly atop the tree and your smug face pretending you don’t know how it got there. 

“It is lopsided,” Secondo hums, handing you your mug. 

“It has character,” you counter. You hide your smile behind the steaming hot chocolate. 

Secondo smiles, too. 

~~~

After the tree debacle, you wonder how far into the holiday spirit you can drag Secondo. You aren’t determined to make him the embodiment of Santa Claus, but you hope to ease his grumpiness. And honestly, it isn’t just the holiday that you want him to enjoy, it’s the whole season. Winter is cold and dark and oftentimes miserable, yes, but it doesn’t have to be. Not when you have someone to come home to after years of spending it alone. 

So you suggest cookies. Because I love sugar cookies, you explain when Secondo asks. And Copia has a sweet tooth. And we need something to bring to dinner with your family. 

Not at all because watching Secondo in the kitchen gets you going like nothing else. 

You sit at the small table in his kitchen, watching him move. He’d shooed you out of the way after scolding you for suggesting you use a premade mixture of Betty Crocker sugar cookies, insisting that if you must make cookies, you will at least do it right. But how can you stay away from him when he looks like that? 

He’s wearing his apron (which is, in and of itself, an incredible turn-on). The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his muscular forearms. And his hands, oh, his hands, are bare and flexing, kneading the dough as he mixes flour in pinch by pinch. The veins in his arms are highlighted in the overhead kitchen lights. His shoulders stretch and move, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight against his back again and again. 

Sweet Satan, give me strength, you think. And Satan, ever the purveyor of sin and temptation, strips all the strength from your mind and whispers in your ear to go to him. 

So you do. You quietly slip out of your chair and approach Secondo, taking in his perfect form. His broad shoulders, the slight pooch to his sides, his ass which is hugged so perfectly in his trousers, his hands kneading the dough ball like they knead the flesh of your thighs, your chest, your belly, your rear. Your hands slip around his middle and you press yourself against his back. You feel him pause. 

“Amore,” Secondo says softly and you’re not exactly convinced that he’s chiding you. “You are a terrible distraction. Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta?” 

You trace your hands up his stomach to his chest, relishing in his warmth. There’s probably flour on your hands and forearms and all over his apron, but you don’t care. “Can you blame me? You know very well what watching you in the kitchen does.” 

“SÌ, I do, my dove,” Secondo hums. His hands are still now. He closes his eyes and focuses on the feeling of your palms brushing up and down his body. Yes, he knows quite well what he’s doing to you. He’d be a liar if he said his insistence to bake the cookies from scratch was entirely innocent. But he supposes you know that. “Tell me, amore. If I were to turn around and lift you up onto this counter and spread your legs, what would I find, hm?”

Instead of answering him, you trail your hands back down from his chest, over his tummy, and down to the crux between his legs and pelvis, resting your palms there and squeezing lightly. You can already feel the stretching fabric of his trousers and know that if he turned around to make good on his promise, you would find him hard and aching. He heaves a trembling breath at your movements. It’s likely that he will punish you for this later, but is it really a punishment if it’s what you desire most? 

It’s not often that Secondo allows you to take control like this. Even if it’s just a small movement, a little caress of his arousal, he’s quick to pull your hands away and make sure you find your pleasure first. But slowly, his hands begin to work into the dough once more, and he makes no further comment. Your own hands find the button of his trousers and tug it open. 

“Amore,” Secondo hums in warning when your fingers brush along the length of him over the fabric of his pants.

In a stroke of confidence (and maybe a touch of curiosity as to what might happen if you poke the sleeping bear), you reach down his front to grasp him over his briefs. It’s only for a moment before you’re withdrawing your hand and fumbling his button closed again. You press a kiss between his shoulder blades and step away. “Sorry, love. Cookies take precedence.” 

Then, you’re pressed against the kitchen table, your wrists pinned beside your head as Secondo looms over you and presses his hips to your own. His breath is hot and his voice is low in your ear as he speaks. “You know very well that I would ravish you right now,” he growls, rutting his hips forward to spread your thighs even further. You can feel just how honest he’s being and you sigh with the contact. “If it were not for this dinner… this cena maledetta…”

There’s flour all over your clothes from his apron pressing against your front. The tip of his nose traces a path up from the sensitive skin below your ear, across your cheekbone, to rest against yours. His lips brush your own as he speaks. “Do not think I do not know what you are doing.” 

“I know you know,” you say, your voice sultry. You arch your back up off the tabletop and press your chest into his. “That’s why I do it.”

“Sei una tentazione,” Secondo whispers. “Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti?”

Your jaw slacks open when he presses his hips even harder against yours. He takes the opportunity to lean in and nip at your lower lip, tracing his tongue along it and tugging. “One day,” you gasp when he pulls away, “I will understand when you say such filthy things to me in Italian.” 

“You tell me that not knowing is a thrill.”

“Oh, it is. But sometimes I wish I could understand what depraved things you’ll do.” 

“Let me put it plainly, then,” Secondo says. He takes the shell of your ear between his teeth and squeezes your wrists just a bit tighter. Your thighs lift as he presses himself against you completely. “We are going to make these cookies. We are going to Terzo’s dinner party. And we are going to stay for however long is acceptable before I take you back here and punish you for teasing me.”

“Yes, Papa.”

~~~

Oh, you hate him. 

Not for last night when he’d punished you, no. You very much do not hate him for that. You’d gone to bed with trembling legs after he had to help you to the shower. He compared you to a newborn deer but held you steady as you wobbled, and then gave you one last orgasm in the warm water before the two of you retired to bed. 

Rather, you hate him because he’d been waiting for a reason to punish you last night. He’d been searching for an excuse to make you fall off the edge of the world, more than a few times over, because he’d planned to take you and your wobbly legs surprise ice skating the next morning and thought it would be funny to watch you scramble.

“I hate you,” you grumble as you cling to his hand with a vice-like grip. “I hate you and your stupid memory.” 

Secondo laughs quietly and supports your weight. You almost lose balance when he leans down to speak lowly in your ear, but he keeps you upright. “I did not hear you saying that last night when I remembered where to touch to make you–”

“Alright, alright,” you interrupt, your face heating. “But last night I didn’t think I had to tell you to take it easy so I could stand upright today.”

“That is the fun of it, amore. Seeing you wobble, knowing I did this.” He presses a kiss to your temple. “How is your ass? Sore?” 

“From you spanking it or from falling on it four times?” You ask. 

“Either way,” Secondo stands up straight again, “I suppose the answer is the same.”

You huff. “I used to be able to do spins as a kid,” you tell him. “And now I can barely stand on skates because of you and your fingers and your tongue and your little Secondino.”

“He is not very little though, is he?” Secondo asks, and you could smack him if he wasn’t completely right. You’re wobbly because he’s not little in the slightest.

You’re grateful, though. You’d mentioned how you used to go ice skating as a child, and how you haven’t in a very long time. In previous relationships, that was that. You would mention something you miss, or an activity you used to love, and that would be the end of it. But with Secondo, dear, attentive, lovely, grumpy Secondo, it’s different. You feel heard for the first time in your life. And that might be terribly cheesy, but it’s true. He does more for you than the absolute bare minimum you’d grown to expect from partners and you feel positively spoiled. If you can give him even half of the happiness he gives you, you’re happy. You would give him the world and the sun and the moon if you could. 

Secondo notices your silence and squeezes your hand, warm and cozy in the gloves Terzo had gifted you at his dinner last night. “Where did you go, dove?” 

“Sorry,” you shake yourself from your reverie and blink away the sudden tears of gratitude and affection. “I just love you. Thank you for taking me skating.”

“You’re welcome. Anch’io ti amo.”

Eventually you find your sea legs and show him the (very basic) spins you know how to do. You manage not to fall on your ass a fifth time. And then you begin to seethe because, of course, Secondo is perfectly balanced and graceful and can skate like he was born on the ice. Your poised Papa is always so composed and you feel like, as he’d said, a newborn deer perpetually falling. 

You hate him, but that doesn’t stop the heat from building in your lower belly. Again.

~~~

The next day is the Ministry’s observed holiday. Most of the Abbey’s residents choose to spend it honoring the Olde One in sin with loved ones—eating, drinking, laughing, fucking. You and Secondo are no different, having celebrated the holiday with family and friends at Terzo’s dinner two days prior. 

That was the intention of hosting a dinner two days before the holiday. So that one might be able to honor Satan and the unholy observance without having to worry about family coming. 

You are absolutely not complaining. You spend the morning sleeping in, held in Secondo’s strong, warm embrace. When you wake, there’s no rush to get out of bed. He apologizes for your sore (and slightly fall-bruised) ass by rubbing and kneading it with gentle hands, pressing kisses down your spine with no sense of urgency or implication of more. You want there to be more, but you have something planned for later. 

You aren’t sure how long you’ll be able to wait for later to arrive. 

In the weeks leading up to the holiday, he’d told you not to worry about finding a gift for him. He said that you are enough, that spending time with you and just seeing you is enough of a gift. That you’d somehow managed to soothe the harshness in his soul. In his Secondo way of saying those things, which is less sappy. But you know that the sap was there, so you found a gift for him anyway.

The gift, of course, is something practical and utilitarian. Fit for Secondo’s taste but not something he already has. Something you know for a fact he’ll enjoy. 

That’s the list of things you’d written in your head when debating whether or not to buy the expensive, green satin lingerie with silver buckles. And of course, you needed a robe to hide it with so he can unwrap his gift. 

Although neither of you want to get up from the cozy cocoon of bedsheets you’re tangled in, your stomach begins to growl for breakfast. 

“Hungry?” Secondo asks from where his face is nestled against your neck. 

“Very,” you say, and make no move to get up. Neither does he. 

Your stomach growls again. 

“Hush,” Secondo says softly. “I am comfortable.”

After the third growl, you laugh, and Secondo pushes himself off of you to sit upright. “Coffee?” 

“Please,” you nod. 

When Secondo stands to walk into the kitchen, shirtless and practically glowing in the morning sun coming through the windows, you decide that later can come whenever you like. He can spend all day and night unwrapping his gift over and over and over if he wishes to. You can’t bear to wait. 

You slip away with the box containing your robe and underthings and lock yourself in the bathroom. It takes you a few tries to align the straps correctly so you can slip your head and arms through where they’re supposed to go, but the lower portion is more straightforward. The set is simple once it’s situated correctly. There’s a strip of fabric leading up the middle of your chest and around your neck, clasped at the front with a silver buckle, not entirely unlike a collar. The thin straps accentuate your chest and shoulders while still leaving most of your skin exposed for Secondo to leave marks on. The bottoms are strappy as well, with an attached garter belt secured with two silver buckles matching the one on your neck. Observing yourself in the mirror, you feel powerful. You know exactly what this will do to Secondo, and do for him. You feel powerful in the knowledge that you are about to allow him to overpower you. 

You only hope the lingerie doesn’t get ripped in the process. 

You slip the robe over your shoulders and close it, offering only a peek of the fabric around your neck, and fix your bedhead before exiting the bathroom. You stride into the kitchen like absolutely nothing has changed and find Secondo, gathering ingredients for breakfast and still shirtless. If you hadn’t changed into the set you’re wearing already then you would turn tail and do it now. 

But, you steel yourself and enter the kitchen, making a beeline for your favorite mug which he’d filled with coffee. “Thank you, love,” you say softly. You lean against the counter and take a sip. It’s delicious but you couldn’t care less about the coffee right now. 

“Amore,” Secondo says lowly once he catches a glimpse of your new robe and the fabric peeking out underneath. “What is this?”

He raises his finger to trace along the strip of fabric running down your chest until it disappears under the robe. “You said not to get anything for you,” you tell him, trying to act like the simple touch isn’t burning your skin. “But, did you really expect me not to?”

“Sathanas, you are sent to me by the Devil himself,” Secondo groans. He takes your mug of coffee from you and places it on the counter. “How must I wait until we have eaten when you…” 

You gently take his other hand and intertwine your fingers. It’s not often that Secondo has no words. Your heart pounds in your chest and you’re sure he can feel it beneath his fingertips. “Don’t wait, then,” you say. 

Slowly, Secondo traces his hand down your chest, over your sternum and towards your navel where your robe is tied closed. He pulls on the end and the robe falls open, revealing the set of lingerie adorning your skin. You feel his hot, shaky breath fan across your face as he takes in the sight of you. As if in reverence, he gently pushes the robe off your shoulders. It falls at your heels and you’re left bare in front of him, skin hot yet somehow covered in goosebumps. “Sathanas,” he curses again, thanking his maker for you. 

Secondo places his hands on your waist and draws you towards him. Your own hands rise to his chest and you find that his heart is beating just as quickly as yours. Your lips meet somewhere in the middle, warm and desperate and passionate. He kisses you like it’s the last time, but also like you’re made of glass. Like he wants to ravage you and worship you at the same time but can’t decide. His tongue licks into your mouth, tracing your bottom lip. He tastes like coffee and Secondo. 

You nearly stumble when he begins to push you but you quickly understand his mission. His hands guide you out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom, walking you backwards while his lips never leave your own. “Sathanas,” he groans a third time. He can’t think of anything but you, the feel of you, the taste of you, the sight of you. The only word from his mouth is a prayer at your altar. 

Secondo guides you until the backs of your legs hit the mattress, and then he lifts you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator taunting his prey. Your thighs part on instinct to welcome his body between them. The cool air of the room reaches your aching arousal and you realize that you’re already embarrassingly wet. 

His hands slide up and down your sides, to your hips, the tops of your thighs. He traces his fingers over the fabric of the garter belt, snapping the strap against your skin and smirking at the sound. “You are sin,” he growls as he leans down to latch his lips to your neck. “I need you.” 

“Take me,” you moan, and your voice comes out more desperate than you intend for it to, but you’re past the point of caring. You want him to know that you need him, too. “Please, Papa. I’m yours.”

Secondo’s mouth trails down your chest, leaving wet kisses and little marks as you’d predicted (and hoped). He finds the hard peak of your nipple through the thin satin and lathes his tongue over it, eliciting another moan from your lips. “Say it again for me, amore. Tell me who you belong to.” 

“You, Papa,” you breathe as his teeth gently bite down on your covered nipple. “I belong to you. Only you.” 

“Guisto. You are mine and mine alone.” 

His mouth moves to your other nipple and, as if to accentuate his statement, he gives it a harder nip. You gasp at the sensation and arch your back into his mouth. “Papa…”

“Hm?” Secondo hums, and the vibrations make you moan once more. “What is it, tesoro?”

You know very well that he knows what you want, but you also know that he wants to hear you say it. “Please, your mouth,” you gasp. Your hands clutch at his shoulders and give an almost imperceptible push downwards. “I want your mouth, Papa, please.”

Secondo licks a path down your midsection. “Già così disperato per me,” he mumbles against the skin just above the garter belt. His lips blaze a path along the strip of fabric, and for the first time you wish it was gone. You’ve had your fill, he’s seen it all, and seen you in it. It can go away now. But, he takes mercy on you, and kisses his way to your pubic mound, also covered by the cursed fabric. 

“Oh, amore, you are already dripping for me. I wonder if I can make you cum without taking these off, sì? They are already ruined, what is a little more?”

Secondo places a light kiss over your wetness through the fabric and your hips twitch upwards. Immediately his hands wrap around your thighs and grasp your hips, stilling you. “None of that,” he chides you, and repeats the kiss. You bite your lip to stifle your noises. That earns you a light slap on the outside of your thigh, and you gasp. “None of that either. I want to hear you.”

He licks a broad stripe up the entire length of your slit, humming as he does. Your hips twitch again but they can’t move in his firm grip. Your hands grip the bedsheets as you gasp. “Papa!”

You’re already so worked up that you feel your orgasm beginning to build in your lower belly. His tongue traces slow circles around your clit, sometimes dipping to press at your entrance but never straying for long. The fabric is practically plastered to the form of your core, but it’s not quite enough. It’s thin but it dampens the sensations of his mouth against your flesh just enough for your orgasm to elude you. 

“P-Papa, please,” you pant. Your hand finds the back of his head to press him harder to you, but it’s still not enough. “Please, I need more. I’m so close, please…”

“Look at me, dove,” Secondo commands, and you obey. His cheeks are flushed and you can just barely see the shine of your wetness on the tip of his nose. “Look at me as I help you cum.”

He snakes one hand back towards your entrance and lightly presses there, then slowly works his middle finger under the fabric to dip into you. It’s frustratingly shallow, just to the first knuckle, but he knows you’re most sensitive there. His tongue flicks faster on your clit, still covered by the satin yet completely drenched, and you cum. “Papa!” 

Your entrance clenches rhythmically around the tip of his finger. He growls and shoves the crotch of your panties to the side, latching his lips around your clit and sucking just as he pushes his finger deep into you. He finds the spot only he knows exists and you see stars as your first orgasm gives way to another, more powerful climax. You tumble down the side of a mountain of pleasure on his tongue and scream. 

Secondo works you through the intense pleasure until the aftershocks roll pleasantly up and down your limbs, and your hips twitch up from oversensitivity. He pulls away and licks his lips. “Perfezione,” he says softly, crawling back up your body until he can kiss you properly. “Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua.” 

You can taste yourself on his tongue. His hands softly stroke up and down your thighs, easing the trembling there. You sling your arms around his shoulders and pull him down so that his chest rests against yours. “Do you like your gift?” you ask when you’ve finally caught your breath again. 

“Sempre,” Secondo hums. “Every time I touch you is a gift, amore.”

You lean up to kiss him again, because you don’t want to sully the heat and passion between you by crying at his sudden tenderness. “Let me make you feel good, too,” you whisper against his mouth. 

When your hands begin to wander downwards, Secondo rises onto his knees and grasps your wrists firmly. The position mirrors the one you’d found yourself in two days prior, after the cookie incident, and your core clenches around nothing. “All I want is to be inside you,” Secondo growls. The tenderness is replaced by a fiery passion behind his eyes, and his grip on your wrists leaves no room for debate on who is in charge now. You’ve ensnared him with your gift, now he gets to unwrap it. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Please, Papa.” 

Secondo hastily pulls his sleep pants off and his cock bounces up against his lower stomach. You wish so desperately that you could touch him, trace the trail of dark hair from his chest all the way down to the base of him, but he still has your hands beside your head. “Stay just like this for me, sì?” he asks, but you know it’s not a question and you nod. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your ruined underwear and tugs. “Up.”

You lift your hips and he slides the soaked fabric down your legs and tosses it aside. Your hands, now unrestrained, itch to touch him. “Can I touch you?” you ask, your voice breathy and desperate. You’re hoping he allows it, because if he really didn’t want you to move, there are cuffs in his bedside table that he could have easily used to hold your arms above your head. 

“Not yet, amore. You are doing so well for me.”

You whine, but stay still. Secondo parts your thighs again and slots himself between them. The tip of his cock brushes against your swollen clit and you gasp, rutting your hips upward to seek more. But he doesn’t enter you, not yet. You know what he’s waiting for. 

“Please, Papa,” you say, canting your hips upward once more to accentuate your words. “I want to feel you, please.” 

“Bene,” Secondo hums. “Così buono per me.”

Secondo positions the head of his cock at your entrance, and pushes in slowly. Your back bows off the mattress and you sigh. “Oh, thank you, thank you…”

Inch by thick, delicious inch, Secondo enters you until your hips press together and you can feel the tip of him nudging at your cervix. When he’s fully inside you, he pauses, giving you time to breathe and adjust to his size. You hold his gaze as he strokes your thighs, soothing you, urging you to relax around him. “You may touch me,” he says. 

You bring your hands to the skin below his navel to trace along the strip of hair. Usually you like to kiss your way down, leaving little love bites along his happy trail, but both of you had been so desperate for this closeness that you couldn’t prolong the process. His muscles jump and twitch under your light touches. Slowly, you slide your palms up to rest on the sides of his neck and draw him down to kiss you. The shift in angle makes his cock move inside you and he brushes against the spot his middle finger had found just minutes ago, making you clench around him. He groans into your mouth at the sensation. 

“Are we going ice skating again tomorrow?” You ask. 

Secondo huffs a laugh. “No, amore. I plan to make your legs wobble without having to worry about a sore ass.”

You laugh with him and kiss him once more, then roll your hips against his. “Good.” 

He grips you by the hips and begins to thrust shallowly in and out of you. The drag of his cock is divine inside you, and yes, your legs will very much be wobbling tomorrow because you intend to spend all day like this and it is barely breakfast. Your head falls down against the mattress and exposes your neck, yet devoid of marks, to Secondo. And who is he to pass up an opportunity like that?

His lips descend on your pulse point just as he increases his pace. This angle again makes his cock brush against the tender spot on your inner walls and it rips a moan from your throat. 

“Sì, amore, let me hear you. Let me hear how I make you feel.” 

“Ah, it’s so—so good, Papa, you feel so good inside me—”

Secondo increases his speed again. His teeth gently dig into the skin of your neck and you clench around him, making him growl into your ear. “My little devil,” he rasps. “Who do you belong to? Tell me again.”

“You, Papa! I’m yours!” 

“Yes—ah, yes, you are mine. Only mine. Only I can take you like this, capisci? O-only I can make you feel this pleasure.” 

Somewhere in the back of your mind you register that Secondo is being particularly vocal this time. His eyes never stray from yours, but his hands are everywhere—your hips, your thighs, your stomach, your chest. His fingers briefly dip into your mouth and you willingly accept them, lathing your tongue over them and tasting the remnants of your juices on his skin. His hips snap against your own, over and over and over, increasing in pace until you bounce back and forth on his cock in time with his thrusts. 

With the fingers now covered in your saliva, Secondo brings his fingers directly to your oversensitive clit. Your hands clench onto any part of him you can reach, your fingernails scratching his skin and leaving red trails raised in their wake. You aren’t sure if you’re screaming or completely silent with the overwhelming pleasure. But your eyes feel magnetized to his own, like if you were to look away, the spell would break and the pleasure that’s building between you would dissipate entirely. 

“P-Papa,” You gasp, breathless. “I–I’m—”

“Sì, amore mio. Cum around my cock. Cum for me.” 

His desperate, almost animalistic command, paired with his fingers abusing your clit and his cock splitting you open so perfectly, send you hurtling over the edge of your climax and your vision goes white. Your entire being, your entire consciousness is centered between your legs and wherever he touches. The rest of you falls away into bliss as Secondo thrusts into you through your orgasm. 

You’re still riding the tidal waves of pleasure when Secondo finds his own release, spilling inside you and slowing his thrusts until eventually he stills against you. As your awareness fades back in and your orgasm ebbs away, you realize that your legs are trembling, but so are his. Your chests heave together as you catch your breath. You relish in the warm weight of him on top of you and inside of you, tracing your fingertips up and down his spine. 

When he manages to steady himself enough to hold his weight on his arms, Secondo pushes himself up just enough so he can plant soft, tender kisses against your lips. “Amore mio,” he mumbles reverently, “Sei la luce della mia vita.” 

“I love you,” you respond just as softly. Though you don’t (yet) understand what he said, you can feel the weight of his words in your heart. He isn’t the type to deliver flowery speeches or long-winded declarations of love, but you know he feels it for you, as you do for him. The two of you don’t need words. It shines through the string lights on the tree in the living room. It wafts through the air on the scent of freshly baked sugar cookies. It follows you in the sound of skates sliding in tandem atop the frozen lake, and in the pleasured cries echoing in the walls of the bedroom. 

Your stomach growls, and you feel the rumble of Secondo’s laugh deep in your chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Amore - love

Sto solo scherzando - I'm only joking

Esattamente - exactly

Come faccio a cuocere questi biscotti con te che mi tenta? - How am I supposed to bake these cookies with you tempting me?

cena maledetta - cursed dinner

Sei una tentazione...Perché devi essere così allettante quando non posso averti? - You are a temptation...why must you be so tempting when I cannot have you?

Anch’io ti amo - I love you too

Giusto - Right

Tesoro - treasure, sweetheart

Già così disperato per me - Always so desperate for me

Perfezione - Perfection

Così perfetto per me. Così forte quando mi vieni sulla lingua - So perfect for me. So loud when you cum on my tongue

Sempre - always

Così buono per me - So good for me

Capisci - Understood

Sei la luce della mia vita - You are the light of my life

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist (from my Camellia fic, I hope that's okay!): @bonelessghoul @gbatesx @the-did-i-ask @leah-halliwell92 @archive-obsess @rosacrose @sodoswitchimage @portaltothevoid @lightbluuestars @thesoundresoundsecho @stephnthangss @enchantedbunny @jackson5611-blog @copiasprincipessa @kadedoesthings @justheretoreadleavemealone @tiedyedghoulette @honimello @deetz-ghuleh @da-rulah @nijiru

[kookygranger]

Spirit in the Sky

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Steve finds you. You begin to wish he’d left you alone.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, no upside down/no hawkins au, drink driving, motorcycle crash, ghostrider!steve, smut

Word count: 2.5k

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter Two

3 years ago

He’d had one too many. It was evident in the way it took him three goes to kickstart his bike and peel off from the curb by the bar, helmet on as if that would protect him from lowered inhibitions; delayed reflexes.

Maybe he’d revelled too much in the glory of the jump he’d pulled off earlier in the night during the show. A distance only ever attempted once before, cleared with ease by the newest hotshot on the stunt rider scene. Maybe he should’ve been more wary of the way his heart raced when the crowd roared for him. Maybe he should’ve recognised the danger in his desperate need for approval when the senior member of the team told him that he was one helluva rider and bought him another drink.

These were all things that crossed his mind rapidly when he clipped some debris lying on a back road he was only taking to avoid getting pulled over and lost control of his bike. That part seemed to go on for an eternity before he was thrown in the air. He didn’t remember landing or feeling any pain when he came too. In fact, he couldn’t feel anything and wasn’t even sure that he was conscious.

Especially when his view of the stars was blocked by him.

He was merely a shadow at first. A dark abyss that made less sense the longer you stared, Steve felt his chest expand and deflate rapidly but couldn’t pinpoint the feeling of his heart racing underneath.

When his form finally came into focus, the smile on his face was enough to tell Steve that something wasn’t right. All of a sudden, he was standing in front of the man and in view of the reck that was his bike across the other side of the small intersection. When he looked down at his body there wasn’t a scratch on him. And when he went to take his helmet off, he realised it was crushed on the ground a few feet away.

“That was a nasty one son.”

His voice, although calm, sent a shiver down his spine.

“W-what happened?”

The man only smiled again and Steve realised he didn’t need it explained. That he hadn’t miraculously and impossibly come away from a crash like that unscathed. That he wasn’t as invincible as he so foolishly thought.

“Where am I?”

“You’re at a crossroads son.”

Steve quirked his brow, thinking that was an obvious statement before it sunk in. Before it clicked that this man wasn’t here to help him move on peacefully. And just as he thought it the man began to explain that he was willing to offer him a deal.

Now, Steve wasn’t religious by any means, but he was aware enough to know that accepting a deal from the devil wouldn’t ever work out in his favour. That he needed to resist temptation to save his soul.

Soul. The man kept bringing that up. He wanted it. Wanted Steve’s, for whatever reason. And Steve was ready to walk away, whatever that meant because it had to be the right choice. The good choice.

Until he promised him something in exchange that had the rhythm of his heart returning to his chest.

***

The smell of summer rain always put you in a certain mood. Lifted you outside of your life and took you places you’d find in your best dreams. The rare ones.

Today was no different as the petrichor wafted in from the high open windows around the diner, a slight breeze to relieve the steamy heat within. Except your dreams had taken the shape of someone in particular lately. And his hazel eyes and mole-flecked skin were on your mind constantly since your ride around town the other night.

It only slightly takes you by surprise when you find him leaning up against the red brick of the diner, smoking under the small awning by the back door as the rain continues to patter against the pavement. His hair and shoulders are a little damp, his smile small and untameable as you approach him with a garbage bag in hand.

“It’s employees only back here I’m afraid.”

He cocks his head as you stand in front of him, the tip of your shoe rubbing against your calf.

“I’m not allowed to enjoy the view?” It might be sarcasm. The dingy bins that give off an odour on hotter days and the bitumen full of potholes and cracks, not exactly an oasis for employee breaks. But you follow his eyeline to the dense forest across the way and wonder if it makes him feel the same way it does to you when you stare at it every day and think.

You don’t find out. Instead, he takes the trash bag off you and dumps it in one of the big metal bins, rain drops making his t-shirt a little more translucent when he’s standing in front of you again. Only looking away when your back hits the wall and your eyes close on instinct as you feel his breath against your face.

He hadn’t kissed you the other night. Only told you that he’d see you soon, his eyes lingering on your lips for a moment too long before he gently took his helmet from your grasp and put it on himself. He didn’t pull away until you got inside your house safely, too scared to look back and realise that you’d officially gone too far in your daydreaming this time. But then you thought about it, and you couldn’t help the sinking of disappointment in your chest. He hadn’t kissed you.

All the dwelling since then is washed away when his lips find yours.

Unhurried, soft, deep kisses that have you melting against the wall, Steve tightening his grip around your waist when you begin to slide. He smirks at the dazed look on your face when you come up for air, trying to play off the way his heart is racing.

“You free tonight?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his question. Completely uncaring of whether that’s true.

He leans in for another long kiss, then pecks along your jaw.

“I’ll pick you up.”

“Seven?” You barely recognise the breathy voice that leaves you.

He kisses you again.

“Seven.”

His confirmation repeats in your head for the rest of your shift. Puzzling one of the other waitresses when she asks you how many cokes you need for table four.

“Seven?”

***

You consider changing, thinking that a dress was an inappropriate choice as you stop in front of Steve’s bike, still running, after you’d bounded down the path from your house before he’d gotten the chance to kill the engine.

But you’re slightly thankful for your improper choice as his hand finds your bare thigh once everything’s tucked into place to protect your modesty. There’s hardly anything between you, Steve, and the bike – and the thought alone sends a thrill through your normally overcautious mind.

He takes you to a secluded spot in the trees, overlooking part of the town. Lights from the houses and businesses on the main street twinkling in front of you.

You don’t notice the bag strapped to the back of his bike until he starts pulling things from it. A blanket, that you pretend not to observe still has the tag on, a couple of sandwiches, two bottles of soda and two plastic containers with a slice of cake in each. One chocolate, one vanilla with fresh fruit on top.

You go to thank him for all the trouble as you sit down and he places everything in between you, but he cuts you off, eyeing all the store-bought items.

“It isn’t much, I know.”

You don’t hesitate to correct him, “It’s perfect, Steve. Thank you.” He looks up at you. “I’m just curious to know if the chocolate cake is for you or me.”

He smiles, “You can have both if you want.”

“Good answer.”

The picnic is devoured quickly in between conversation, and it isn’t long until you’re watching the stars in between fluttering eyelids as Steve kisses your neck. He’s on top of you, still fully clothed and taking things painfully slow as if he’s happy just getting acquainted with your neck. While it’s appreciated – you’re itching to be consumed by him entirely. You guide his hand from your waist, leading it further down until it gets to the hem of your dress. He stops you when you begin to guide him up again, pulling away from your neck to look at you.

“Are you sure?” His voice is hoarse, eyes slightly glazed over but the pinch in his brows tells you his question is genuine. When you nod, followed by a whispered yes when he doesn’t immediately resume, he leans back in to capture your lips, his thumb tickling your inner thigh as his hand travels up.

He’s just about to reach where you’re aching for him most when the sound of car tyres stops you both. By the time headlights reach you, two cars pulling in a bit further down from your spot on the ground, you’re both sitting up.

“Shit.”

Steve whispers and you giggle at the flustered way his hand rakes through his wild hair, “Sorry, I should’ve told you. It’s kind of a popular spot with the locals.”

He shakes his head at himself, smiling at the sound of your laugh. He begins packing the leftover wrappers and bottles away and your heart sinks, thinking it’s all over.

You wrap your arms around your knees when he looks back at you, eyes glinting underneath the newly risen moon.

“You wanna see my place?”

***

The carnival was closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Walking through the dark rides had you sticking close to Steve’s side, the eeriness of a closed fairground causing goosebumps to rise, though they were quickly smoothed by his warmth when his arm wraps around your back.

It was their second week of four in town. The location good for drawing crowds from neighbouring towns.

You try not to think of how quickly a few weeks would pass you both by, instead focussing on Steve’s trailer as he helps you step in.

It was small but warm. A tiny kitchenette across from the door, an even smaller bathroom up the back and a plaid sofa off to the side. You noticed a few books scattered about, a few comics, but some that looked like Greek mythology and maybe even occult—

Steve’s gentle pull on your body had your attention drawing back to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he walks backward to his bed.

“You with me, honey?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

He turns you both around, helping you lay gently on his bed, picking up where you left off earlier. Only this time he doesn’t just focus on your lips or your neck. This time he moves down your chest, mouthing at the exposed skin as his fingers trace lightly up and down your thigh, drawing circles higher and higher up until he finally gets to where you’ve been waiting for him. Drawing a gasp as he wastes no time, finding you completely ready for him, pulling down your underwear and bunching your dress around your stomach. He kisses you there, once, twice, three times before he moves further down and shows you just how much he’s been thinking of this too.

It doesn’t take long for your peak to hit and you're dazed as Steve laps it all up like you’re better than any cake he’s ever tasted, prolonging this feeling of ecstasy until another wave creeps up on you, taking you by surprise.

Steve doesn’t look surprised, just hungry for more when he finds his way back up to you. You’re feverish, scrambling to rid him of his top and working on his belt in quick succession. When his hand engulfs your thigh, you jump at the contact.

“God, you’re hot.” You whisper into his mouth as you share quick kisses.

“Thanks baby, but you should see yourself.”

You giggle, then frown when your hands come into contact with his torso, “No, I mean you’re physically hot. Like really warm. Should we open a window and take a second?”

Steve stills on top of you, you can feel the muscles in his stomach tense, his skin now burning under your hands.

“Are you okay?”

“Fuck.” He hisses and scrambles off you, grabbing his t-shirt from the floor and putting it back on. You sit up as he buckles his belt. “I uh, I just remembered that I have to take care of something.” He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, running his hand through his hair and picking a spot on the floor. You shift your dress down to cover yourself, feeling the cool splash of a moment lost.

“You can stay here if you want. I’ll probably be back by the morning. I can take you home then.”

You’re suddenly aware of your unfamiliar surroundings. A lockless door on a trailer housed in a group of unknown residents and the boy you don’t actually know very well at all leaving.

“I’d rather go home now.” Your voice is small, lost of the breathiness of a few moments ago and Steve still isn’t looking at you. Instead, he looks around for your shoes that came off somewhere in between the door and his bed and hands them to you.

“We need to go like right now though.”

He turns around, barely waiting for you and you feel a stinging in your eyes. “Do you know where my underwear went?”

Steve stops just before he reaches the door, eyes locking with yours as he looks back, his face falling when he sees the watery shine to them.

“Fuck, sorry.” He rushes back over to you, scrambling around in his crumpled bedsheets, “I’m sorry–I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, locating your underwear which you snap off him when he doesn’t move to hand them to you. You finish dressing quickly, ready to be anywhere but here. Storming out of the trailer with Steve close behind you.

You can feel the ghost of his hand on the small of your back, the heat still radiating off him, before he thinks better of it and lets you walk slightly ahead.

You feel sticky as you reluctantly cling to him while he zips back through town, still taking the corners slowly with you on the back. You’d be concerned he was coming down with a fever if you weren’t so crushed by how the night was ending.

His eyes are trained on the road when you get off the bike. This time he doesn’t wait until you’re inside safely, his lame I’ll see you later muffled while you’re taking his helmet off and he shoots off before you even have the chance to return it to him.

He’s out of sight quickly, turning at the end of the road, but the buzz of his engine is still audible from a couple of streets away.

You stand there until it’s just the crickets left chirping.

When you’re inside, you throw his helmet down the hall, collapsing in a crying heap on the bottom stairs.

Never again will you take a chance on a stranger straight from your fantasies.

Tagging @bettyfrommars ‘cause he’s all yours

[chukys-mouthguard]

Memories Missed

day 3 of the 2024 NHL advent calendar 🎄

1.1k words

genre -> angst

featuring -> cam york x female reader

summary -> when a snow storm hits, cam can’t find a way to make it in time for christmas

note -> it’s cam’s birthday so i had to get this done and posted in honor of his special day 🥳

Quickly darting around the kitchen, you were making sure everything was prepped for Christmas dinner. It was the first year you’d opted to host your family, along with Cam’s, and you were nervous to say the least.

Why you chose to cook ninety percent of the dishes you didn’t understand, but somehow you managed to pull it off. Your parents had arrived earlier than the other guests, so your mom could help in the kitchen and your dad could watch football.

“Anything else you need right now?”

Scanning the kitchen counters then checking the timer on the stove, you shook your head as you sighed.

“Nope, I think we did it.”

A soft smile crept across your lips as you felt relieved, now you could finally sit down and relax before guests started to trickle in.

“Oh, it’s Cam, I’ll be right back!”

You jumped up with a smile as you excused yourself to the front room of the house to take his call.

“Hi baby! You should smell all the food I’ve been cooking, it all turned out so good! And the house looks beautiful, I’m happy you convinced me to host. It’s gonna be amazing.”

He softly chuckled before he let out a sigh, immediately erasing the smile that was plastered on your face.

“That’s fantastic baby, I knew you could pull it off. But, there’s a problem.”

You felt your heart sink, just as things were going according to plan they were about to come crashing down.

“We can’t fly out, we are stuck as of right now. No timeline for when we’d be cleared to get out of here.”

The winter weather had picked up, but you’d never once thought about the possibility of Cam not making it home in time for Christmas. Thankfully you hadn’t done your makeup yet because the tears that began streaming down your cheeks certainly would’ve ruined it.

“You’re joking…Cam, your whole family is coming! My whole family is coming, my parents are here. What are we supposed to do?”

“Well you’re not going to cancel if that’s what you’re thinking!”

His tone was a bit sarcastic as he spat back at you, his frustrations with the delay obvious as he normally wasn’t one to argue.

“No of course not, but I’ve been looking forward to this for over a month Cam! Us hosting everyone here, and the memories we’d make in our new house. It was supposed to be special and you’re not even going to be here for it!”

“What do you suggest I do babe? I can’t make the snow stop, I can’t rent a car and drive it would be more than a day until I’m home if I did that. I’m sorry okay? You think I’m happy about this? Missing getting to share this day with your family and mine all in one place? But there’s nothing I can do, I’m sorry.”

You let out a sigh as you tried to hold back any things you might spit out of anger. The last you wanted was to have an argument with Cam before he’d be getting on a plane in this weather.

“Just, get home safe. I’ll see you when I see you.”

-

The dinner had gone off without a hitch, everyone being understanding of Cam missing out though you were still frustrated by it. It was one of the aspects of his job you hated. Road trips that turned into longer ones because of shitty weather, Cam missing out on birthdays and holidays. Missing out on so many memories that the two of you could share.

Every time your phone lit up it was yet another text about a delay. Eventually you’d stopped checking, not wanting to upset yourself even further. Rather trying to enjoy everyone opening their gifts and the happiness that was filling your home.

As the night had come to an end, you willingly accepted the help of both your mom and Cam’s to get everything mostly cleaned up before you headed off to bed.

“You know honey, he didn’t intentionally do it. Just remember that. He wanted to be here tonight.”

As you wiped down the counter you softly sighed, keeping your thoughts to yourself as you knew she was only trying to help ease the situation. Though there was nothing that could change how you felt, regardless if Cam missing Christmas was out of his control or not.

You’d said goodbye to both sets of parents before changing into your set of Christmas pajamas to which Cam had a matching pair, then curled up on the couch as you watched the twenty-four hour marathon of A Christmas Story; Cam’s favorite Christmas Day activity.

The sound of the tv had muffled the noise of the front door unlocking and kept you in your slumber as Cam made his way into the house to find you.

Fast asleep on the couch, Christmas pajamas adorning your frame as you curled up with a blanket. Cam smiled to himself as he looked from you to the beautifully decorated tree, presents still filling up the space beneath it as you’d left all of your gifts to open with him.

Not wanting to wake you just yet, he headed into the kitchen to find a note on the counter.

“Cam, there’s a plate of all your favorites in the microwave. I made sure to save you lots of cookies as well, but no cookies before dinner! Merry Christmas Cam. Love y/n.”

Cam laughed as he was mid bite of a cookie by the time he’d read your order of no cookies before dinner, you knew him too well.

He felt awful for missing the holiday and all of the effort you’d put into it. Not getting to see your families come together in your new home that you both worked so hard for, it made him wish sometimes that he didn’t have a career that took him out on crazy long roadtrips. Missing countless birthdays, holidays, or even just losing out on time with you and family. But he also knew that his career was how he was able to get this house with you, to have the tree overflowing with gifts for you and your families. And while he knew you would get over being upset with him, he knew you had every right to be. Sure you signed up for this, but it didn’t make it any easier. You’re human, you have feelings. And he knew how much you were looking forward to this day, but he dropped the ball.

“Baby…y/n, baby. I’m home. Merry Christmas.”

[milkywaydrabbles]

Flufftober 35 with Alucard? Maybe a chubby reader, everyone likes a soft pillow :3

A/N: This was nice to write, I appreciate this type of ask ;A; I try to keep it neutral when describing reader normally (outside of the fact they're AFAB and fem!bodied) but I love reading/writing about a chubby girlie!! I hope you enjoy it!

"You're my new pillow" x Alucard

It didn’t take long for you and Alucard to become an item. He really couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for longer than two minutes whenever you were around (and that already was pushing it. Trevor would know, he actively counted so he can prove a point.) He tried to stay ‘mysterious’ and ‘alluring’ – but that was hard to do when all he wanted to do was talk to you about anything and everything that came to mind. Whatever would occupy you enough to not leave, to stay with him. It was embarrassing–Or so he would have thought if he wasn’t too enamored with looking at you and your soft figure. It was a breath of fresh air, he thinks, seeing your curves soft and round, fats of your hips squishing from the edges of your pants. He wonders if you realize you would be revered as a goddess in ancient Rome and Greece–he hopes you do. He’d even dare say that the goddesses don’t hold a candle to you, round face with cheeks that squish up when you smile at him so sweetly, chubby fingers that fiddle with the edge of your skirt when you’re picking dirt off it after dragging too close to the muck. His hands itched to simply hoist you up himself so you didn’t have to walk around the mud. Whatever to make your life easier.

Trevor and Sypha were starting to feel bad for him–it was so obvious that he had fallen so deeply in love with you over the last few weeks and yet wouldn’t do anything about it (something about being a gentleman, whatever.) So without his knowledge, Sypha started having ‘girl time’ with you, trying to push you into asking him, even if just out to dinner. Literally anything to get you alone with him. You were terrified really, but decided to take the jump and ask Alucard out on a date, just a simple dinner at your place–you promised you cooked well (and you made well on that promise! He thought it was delicious!)

Alucard asked for your hand in courtship that night.

And here you both are, however many years later in the castle you’ve come to know as your home, cuddling on the love seat in the study that you begged him to bring in, you wanted to press yourself up close to him as he read (of course the big sap did exactly that). And Alucard still looked at you with the same adoration as he did the first time he laid eyes on you–with hearts in his eyes, hands squeezing the chub of your hips and roaming your soft belly–he wouldn’t have you any other way. He decided he wanted to get more comfortable after feeling your soft and warm skin–

“Adrian, what are you doing?” You couldn’t help but giggle, hands moving away from your lap to give the grown man more space (his legs were hanging off the loveseat) before running your chubby fingers through his blonde curls. The dhampir simply smiled, fangs poking out the sides of his mouth as he closed his eyes. “You’re more comfortable than the seat–so I’ve decided you’re my new pillow.” You laughed again, rolling your eyes playfully at your loving husband. There were days that you couldn’t look at yourself, wishing you’d be able to lose the extra fluff that you had–thinking that Alucard deserved someone more...fit. Skinnier. Prettier. But he always made such an effort so that you’d understand he’d never leave you for anyone else, that he loved you so much for who you are, and that the extra fat was just more for him to love. He reminded you every day in different ways of that. And you figured that right now, might be one of those ways. You did love seeing him so comfortable in your lap... “Hmm..” You hummed, looking over to the crackling fire in the hearth scratching at his scalp. “You seem a bit too long for my lap, dear.” He cracked an eye to look at you, knowing you were already poking fun. And he loved the apples of your cheeks rounding up on your face with your smile.

“But I’d rather be nowhere else, my love.”

[vad-hander]

LET’S KEEP IT SECRET Pt.5

pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Yuta

others: SM Rookies, multiple SM and JYP idols

genre: series | idol!au | smut | angst | fluff | slow burn | unrequited love | friends to lovers (oops) | mutual pining | teenage to adults | idol!nct, idol!reader, teenage to adults (trainee days until today)

words: 7k

side note: as usual, I'll appreciate all your feedback and thoughts!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6

Your hand raised immediately to cover your opened mouth. Fuck. Yuta’s outside. Yuta came here to see you. After months of silence, he shows up so randomly?! You were almost mad how unprepared you were for this meeting.

Like, not even mentally, your appearance was fucking awkward. You danced for the past 5 hours in a room with barely any venting system. You sweated so badly your hair now looked like you didn’t wash it for a week, you were procrastinating in your bed aka waiting for your turn in the shower - because with the number of people on the floor two bathrooms were just not it, you literally had to wait in a queue to shower - so you were in your training sweats and shirt. Ah, you panicked. Your hands automatically reached for your brush - at least you’d braid the mess on your head and not make it too obvious you were fresh out of practice. You roughly ran the brush through your hair, the silent room now filled with you ripping through your hair and awkwardly enough - attracting everyone’s attention to you. How the hell were you supposed to make yourself look presentable without people questioning why you’re acting that way? You braided your hair quickly, trying not to pay too much attention to the curious eyes. You are, at the end of the day, planning to be famous - you have to be used to people watching you, tho its not really the same, but it should be the same in your head in order for you to not flip out. You found your lip balm and hid it in the pocket to not put it on so openly and ran out of the room in pure silence only to return a second after. “I-, ahem, I’m going to the CU, does anyone need anything?“ 

“Yeah, no.“ Jiwon gave you a weird look, crossing eyes with Sieun. Well, okay. 

You didn’t have a second to think if you wanted to slow down or speed up or what you were going to say, you just ran out of the building without any thoughts. You just really wanted to see Yuta with your eyes. Just have him before you no matter how awkward this might be, just look at him. God, why did you not see him?! Your eyes ran across the entrance of the building one time and once again, because there wasn’t anyone. You walked off further into the street, turning the corner of the building, immediately meeting with Yuta’s eyes. You jumped in place and stopped. You weren’t sure if you should sprint off and hug him or let him take the lead. Yuta took a step towards you and you did so too automatically, meeting somewhere in-between. Yuta stared at you and his eyes were trying to drink in every feature on your face, while you were doing the same. You were trying to see if anything changed, if anything was different and it seemed like everything was not the same but at the same time he was just who you remembered him to be. It felt so weird, like some fever dream turn into live or more like a brimmed with romance k-drama moment where two leads finally meet each other after years of separation. The street lights and autumn breeze was adding up to the feeling. You blinked silently at the man like amoeba, not knowing what was the reason behind him coming here, what did he think of you and what you should be acting like in front of him now. What were you? Should you just ask him in the face? You seriously considered, since he watched you without saying a thing.

“I would say that I’m so happy you texted, but if I’m completely honest, I’m so confused at this point.“ you surprised Yuta by breaking the silence.

“Jaehyun told me you two were discussing… us?“ Ugh, he did? You recalled saying something to him along the lines of maybe you can ask him and tell me, but you didn’t expect him go out of his way and actually do it. One more UGH for Jeong Jaehyun. You were beyond conscious of what he might’ve said or discussed with Yuta. 

“That’s pretty exaggerated.“ You weren’t discussing your relationship, you literally cut him off in like two sentences and continued with your exchange of random things that happened in your life in the time being you avoided him. 

“Anyway.“ what was they sigh and the undertone of that word. Was he…pissed off? The tone of his voice was giving something between slight indifference and irritation. 

“Yes, anyway.“ You felt a little more worked up just from the look he gave you. That’s very much not how you imagined the reunion with your boyfriend, or more likely ex-boyfriend by now. “So Jaehyun is the only reason you reached out after months of silence?“ 

“Yes and no. He told me about seeing you and I realised that I would’ve liked it for myself too. To see you, talk to you and everything else.“ Everything else is what…? Touching, hugging, kissing and …? You needed elaboration on this uncertainty. 

“Okay.“ You gave him a nod, very much flabbergasted at the prospect of possibly kissing Yuta. 

“Do you hate me? For leaving you to hang on for this long?“ his eyes pierced through yours. “I reckoned you’ll need a lot of time to process the transfer and new life and new people and I tried to give you space to work everything out. My own debuted and other things got in the way. I took too long and then was just scared and awkward to reach out.“

“But I messaged you. You could’ve said literally anything back.“

“I’m sorry.“ He did sound full of remorse, you’d give him that.

“Well at least you had more than enough time to think everything through.“ You cackled, not able to hold yourself back from coming at him. 

“Right.“

“So… I guess you came here to give me the verdict?“

“I came here to tell you that I’ve been missing you so fucking bad. That I really badly want to talk to you and hug you again and kiss you again. I want to know everything that’s been happening to you recently. I texted you to see if you’d be able to forgive me for taking so long. So…will you forgive me? Are we still on the same page?“ He crushed the words at you like a cannon ball. They were things you wanted to hear, but somehow at the same time you were feeling uneasy at the confession. You had to tell him first thing that came into your mind otherwise the silence felt too deafening. Yuta gripped your palm as proof of what he felt.

“My company…. We have a very strict no dating policy. We’re not even allowed to have a simple crush. Literally anything relationship related is strictly prohibited.“

“You know that SM have all the same rules.“

“No-, like gawking over someone gets you to pack your bags and leave, Yuta.“

“Okay?“ He couldn’t understand where you led him, neither did you.

“And you’re a whole damn man, that comes to see me at night.“ 

“That’s why I didn’t come to the entrance where all those CCTV cams could see us.“

“Yeah.“ You gave him a nod but clearly didn’t acknowledge what he said properly, continuing on with what you were saying “Not even a year ago one of the guys at the company got his contract terminated because he was allegedly breaking the no dating rule. Our producer is very strict with those rules, he says it has to be at least 5 years before we should even think of dating. Otherwise we’re not dedicated enough.“ you paused because you would love to feel Yuta’s grip on your fingers. If he touched you, you would’ve stopped to crash these things at him.

“I see, you’re trying to refuse me.“ How would he make a conclusion like that when you didn’t even know yourself, what you were trying to do.

“No. I’m just stating facts. For you… to consider.“

“I have considered all those things. Nothing’s changed for me. I still find you very beautiful, I’m still deeply attracted to you.“ You felt a butterfly flop inside your chest. This was such a relief to hear - Yuta still wanted you. 

“Me too.“ You half whispered, you really didn’t want to admit something like that out loud where people could see and hear you. You suddenly felt a little conscious doing these things in front of your literal dorm, where you didn’t have friends, but a whole damn building of people that would happily sneak on you to free one more spot in the competition, but the man in front of you didn’t feel the same way. Yuta moved his foot a step forward, knocking it against your shoe. His fingers laced through yours once again in such electrifying movement you almost lost all your consciousness and leaned in to kiss him. Yuta pulled you towards him, taking a couple steps back from the lit up pavement, to the more dark and private space under a tree. 

“Fuck, I really missed even simply holding on to your fingers.“ Yuta sighed miserably. He squeezed your hands like he regretted every previous decision he made and you believed the boy that stood right in front of you. You believed because despite not making a lot of moves to reunite yourself, you longed and waited and held that little something you had between you close to your heart. You believed you were loving him, because you couldn’t say you knew for sure, you didn’t know much about love enough to state it. You loved your dad, because he was your parent, he took care of you, understood you, listened to you, helped you through hardships, took your side when everyone - or more accurately your mom - were against you. You loved Jaehyun, because he was the first person in your life that could understand you. With no mockery, jealousy or humiliation. He reached for the same goals and understood you completely. In addition to that, he knew how to make you smile, how to make you feel better, when you were down. He seemed to genuinely care for you and who you were, he cared for every little thing you told him or showed him. You loved him because his ways of being your friend helped you become a good one for him, or at least, you were hoping you were still in the process to become one. You loved him just because he was Jaehyun, your best friend, your first friend in SM and your first best friend in the whole wide world.

But Yuta… you felt like you loved him because when he kissed you that first time, your whole being flipped. You don’t remember how or why you existed before that. At first you were obviously, clearly very much shocked at the action. A) you were a baby back then, you didn’t really think of anything like that; b) you were scared of anything related to attraction to other people since something like that would clearly take a toll on your success and debut - and maybe it already did - and you just didn’t want to admit. You were loving Yuta in a completely different way - in a way what you considered a grown woman love a grown man. Not sure if the type together forever kind of love, but together for a long time type of way. You were feeling that heaviness of excitement in your chest now that Yuta was staring at you like that. Your feelings might’ve started to feel like nothing in the past weeks, because you were busy and alone and maybe a little hopeless, but him being here right now made it overwhelming. 

“Me too.“ You meowed in his hold. You weren’t able to talk properly, to stand your ground - no way at all. You were mushy in his hold, if he’d pull your hands down, you’d fold right before him in a second. 

“I still am very much in love with you.“ He leaned in and brushed his lips over your cheek. You felt heated in a nano-second, squeezing Yuta’s fingers tighter in your hold. You tried to free one of your hands to hug his waist, but his fingers felt like claws over yours.

“Me too.“ You whispered breathlessly as your mouth tried to find Yuta’s, lick into it even for the briefest moment and then do whatever the hell he would want to, but he moved away and you found it in yourself to talk. “I have to be honest. This company, it really can’t be compared to SM, everything is different and I’m scared. Of how this is going to go, I’m scared that someone is possibly watching us right now and I’m going to get kicked out tomorrow. I am so scared that following what my heart wants in love department will ruin what I want to have in my career. I fear that having a boyfriend is going to end things for me. Maybe for you too. We’re risking a lot. So much, Yuta.“ 

“It’s fine.“ Hm? What does he mean it’s fine…? “Just don’t tell them I’m your boyfriend, just a guy friend from way back. We won’t put a label on it for everyone to see. There’s Jaehyun and there’s me, no difference for everyone else. No one should care about what we’re doing in privacy, when being with each other. Who would care to find out that the difference between me and Jaehyun is that I’m desperately in love with you? Well, huh, wait.“ Yuta paused, smirked and raised an brow at you with his signature playful smile. “How does that make me any different from Jaehyun then?“ Yuta smarted quickly, full on beaming so proud of his own joke. You punched his shoulder playfully, finally being able to get away from his grip. Now that he made jokes about Jaehyun, it almost felt like nothing at all changed. 

-

“Congratulations, boo.“ Jaehyun shoved a bouquet in your face. You smiled, taking the flowers from his grip, giving them barely a glance as your hand turned them facing down. Your eyes darted from one corner to the other, not focusing on Jaehyun even for the slightest second. If you did though, you would’ve noticed how his smile turned downwards as his eyes soaked in your indifference. You were thankful that he came, you were so happy he came for you, but there was a main question that needed to be asked. 

“Where’s Yuta?“ You asked impatiently. Jaehyun’s eyes, that lit up upon your attention on him extinct as he heard your question.

“Don’t know.“ He had to clear his throat before replying. 

“Don’t you live together?“  You scrutinised Jaehyun, almost too accusatory for such a public instance. 

“I’m sorry.“ Jaehyun lowered his gaze to the ground, hitting your heart with a pang and maybe finally bringing you back to your senses. You smiled apologetically, almost poking his cheek at how terribly cute he looked with his head down, apologising for not knowing whereabouts of your not-boyfriend-boyfriend. You pressed Jaehyun’s bouquet to his chest and he jerked his head up in fear at first, relaxing as he saw your soft face expression. Did he think you were going to throw those flowers at him? You almost felt hurt that your best friend thought you were a bitch. 

“You have nothing to apologise for. You came to my graduation despite being a very busy boy.“ You murmured as softly as possible being surrounded by hundreds of other school graduates. Jaehyun showed you his dimples and you took a step forward, keeping the flowers to his chest. “You’re the very best, as usual.“ Jaehyun chuckled and tapped the top of your head.

“Don’t“ he beamed, pleased.

“And very sweet, you didn’t have to buy me peonies.“ You ogled properly the flowers, to not ogle over Jaehyun. His hand on the top of your hair felt like lava dripped down from where he touched you. It felt too hot, despite it being very early February. You found his hand with your free one, touching his palm with yours and making sure it wasn’t even hot, it was your body having thermoregulations issues. 

“You came to my graduation, I came to yours. That’s what best friends do, boo.“ Jaehyun wiggled your fingers in his hold, making you emotional. That’s what best friends do, then what the f is the boyfriend doing - not coming to one important thing in your life. 

“I think ‘boo’ has romantic under text, Jaehyun.“ you chuckled, processing what he called you. “Someone might overhear us and think we’re romantically involved.“ You chuckled at the thought, it seemed a little funny to you, when your eyes still searched for Yuta with peripheral vision. 

“It’s only romantic if you make it sound this way. I was envisioning boo like a ghost, because you’ve been more of a ghost in my life for the past half a year. You’ve been ghosting me, boo.“ He smirked as he smarted his last sentence, and you swallowed a chuckle, moving your head disapprovingly. You hugged him instead of an answer, squeezing the flowers between your bodies because you felt weird and thought it’d be a great shield from direct contact with his body. “Love you.“ Jaehyun whispered lowly above your ear, his arm squeezing your shoulders, the other one patting your back. “Not romantically, in case you’ve started to imagine things.“ He chuckled and you couldn’t stop yourself from pinching his side. 

“Shut up.“ You tried to wiggle out of the hug, Jaehyun’s fingers only gripping tighter onto your shoulder. “I love you, too.“

“I hope no one’s taking pics, huh.“ Jaehyun immediately let go of you, pulling back up the face mask on his face, as if the past 10 minutes weren’t enough to recognise him for whoever wanted to recognise him. 

“I’m here for Jungkook’s graduation.“ he pushed the flowers against your chest once again and took a very big step back. “I don’t even know you. Who are you, again?“ He squeezed his eyes like he couldn’t see you and you shrugged. He was talking at least two times louder, like he couldn’t hear you through the crowd and you needed to keep up with him. 

“Don’t know you either… are you sure you’re Jungkook’s friend? I don’t think he ever mentioned you.“ Your pointing finger made a zigzag in the air, like it could help you remember something. “Do you even see him?“ You smirked because Jaehyun have not stepped a foot away from you since the moment he arrived and it didn’t seem like he was trying to look for anyone else.

“Just lost him out of my sight.“ Jaehyun scratched his forehead like he tried to remember which direction his friend went.

“I see.“ You nodded, smiling because Jaehyun couldn’t keep his face straight. He shoved the flowers against your face to hide you from him.

“Oh! Jaehyunie!“ You heard an exclamation from behind.

“My princess!“ You jumped in place, quickly turning to find the source of that sound, finally training your eyes on the man that tried to crawl through all students and families. 

“Dad!“ You exclaimed and lost yourself in a hug. 

“Congratulations, I’m so proud of you.“ Your dad kissed both your cheeks, before one more bouquet appeared before your eyes. 

“Thank you.“ You smiled and kissed your fathers cheek in return.

“Come here, greet your mother.“ Your mom called for you, somehow her hand settled on Jaehyun’s wrist, the deadly grip making it impossible for him to disappear. You gave your mom a quick hug, and allowed her to kiss your cheek. “We should take a photo together. Jaehyun, take one for us.“

“Of course, ma’am.“ Jaehyun bowed like a well-trained puppy and showed you his dimples for encouragement. Your mum forced the face mask off his face somewhere in the process, you laughed.

“One, two, say kimchi.“ He pressed onto the cameras button and the sound of shutter let you know the photo was taken.

“Now with your mom only.“ Your father pressed you into your mothers side and forced you to smile, taking the camera out of Jaehyun’s grip. He stood there awkwardly, next to your dad like he was next in line for something. Another sound of shutter. “Now with me only.“ Your dad took the spot next to you and you tried to pose more enthusiastically than before. Click and the pic is done. Jaehyun blinked quietly, when it felt like a perfect que for him to exit the scene, your dad made it impossible “With Jaehyun now, too!“

“It’s fine.“ Your friend protested as he read confusion on your face. It wasn’t even confusion, you just wanted a picture with Yuta on your graduation day and you were not getting one and you were hurt. You would trade a photo with Jaehyun in a heartbeat to one with Yuta. You anyway had hundreds of pics with Jaehyun, it wouldn’t hurt if you had one less.

“No, come here, Jungkook’s friend.“ you gestured for him to get to you.

“Okay, princess.“ He mocked, making the tone of his voice funny trying to impersonate your dad. You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance, immediately being gagged by your own body when Jaehyun’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his side. Your head turned to see Jaehyun, because you were flabbergasted all of a sudden and needed to see if he felt any of that. Seemed like he didn’t, he cracked a smile, showing off his dimples, fingers of his free hand forming a V. Sound of shutter and there you have a picture of you staring up at Jaehyun. “One more!“ You shout before anyone could move from their place.

Jaehyun, thank god, moved his hand off your waist to drop it on top of your head and smiled once again. You smiled too, snugging an arm over his waist this time. 

“One, two, three, kimchi!“ Your dad announced loudly and you tickled Jaehyun’s side, forcing a chuckle out his throat. It sounded so unusually low you needed a second to process what that was, because he suddenly make your insides tremble with how low that sound was. You stole a quick glance at Jaehyun, seeing how that tickle made his whiskers appear, you prayed he’d have them visible in the photo too. 

You unglued yourself from your best friend when the two of you stood too close for too long. 

“Who’s Jungkook?“ Your mom wondered.

“Jaehyun’s friend that graduates today too.“ You stated the simple truth.

“Do you know him?“ What did she mean by that? Why did she care? Oh god.

“Jaehyun, do you want to join us for celebratory lunch? Of course, if only your schedule allows you to join us.“ Your dad slightly bowed like Jaehyun was some sort of serious politician, sportsman or at least a senior to him. 

“He’s a celebrity now! Of course he doesn’t have time to dine with us!“ Your mom waved off your father at the silly suggestion.

“No, no, mr and missis y/l/n, I would gladly join your lunch to celebrate graduation of your daughter.“ Jaehyun almost bowed 90 degrees in deepest reverence for your parents and you had to physically catch his shoulder mid way to stop him at least at 45 degrees.

“Ah! Jaehyunie! The tone of your voice, it’s so deep and charming! I can’t believe it, just last time I saw you it wasn’t like that“ Your mom hid her face in her hands in shock, she acted like a whole different person when it came to Jaehyun, you hated how she couldn’t do the same to Yuta, or you. You really didn’t want to remind her she saw him more than a year ago and that his voice has been this way for a little while.

“It just happened overnight.“ Jaehyun chuckled, his ears suddenly turning pink, as he walked in front of you with your parents. You wondered if you’d trail off the route, how quickly they’d notice you were gone.

-

“What is this?“ you felt a rush of warmth throughout your body, making your palm immediately sweaty in Yuta’s hold. You don’t know exactly why would you ask the question, when you could see very clearly for yourself the words above the entrance. Motel. And the door was graced with a piece of paper, that read hourly rates applicable. You felt warm rashes through your body every time you read those words and if you continued you most likely would’ve fell on the floor from high blood pressure. The door opened and you tore your hand from Yuta’s hold, hiding your face even more behind the mask and the cap you wore. You had another rash of sweat down your spine as you saw people walk down the stairs, both the man and the lady looked like they had sex just a minute ago, which honestly most likely wasn’t a mistake. It was an hourly motel, at the end of the day.

“A place, where you and I can be one on one with no fear of being seen, disturbed or whatever.“ Yuta found your hand once again and squeezed it.

“It’s an hourly motel.“ You said out loud and felt even more sweat form on your lower back. If Yuta wasn’t able to distinguish your feelings by your face that hid behind clothing, he should’ve definitely felt it in the tone of your voice. You almost lost balance on your two feet as another couple walked past you, this time inside the building and if it wasn’t for Yuta’s grip on you, you would’ve took off away right then and there. 

“Yes, it doesn’t matter. Does it? You and me together is the only thing that matters.“

“What if someone sees us?“ Your throat gave up on you as the thought gave you a whiplash. 

“Trust me, just trust me. Come on.“ Yuta moved your body in front of his, grabbing your face with his hands. Despite your endless will to trust him, you were having second hand thoughts on the idea. “Do you really want to leave? I promise you, I really tried to pick a good one. Coming in or leaving?“ Yuta asked concerned, now that he was able to see your eyes he could very clearly tell that you were concerned - well who wouldn’t - and tried to make you feel better. 

“Coming in.“ your voice sounded weaker than usual. Yuta smiled and kissed your face, where he’d guessed through the mask your mouth was and dragged you behind himself.

“Why are you not taking the mask off?“ Yuta glanced quickly at your unmoving body on the corner of the bed, before continuing with whatever he was doing in his backpack. The thing did seem packed to the brim and you were curious what Yuta had in there, before he brought you to the hourly motel. It did look nice inside, despite the room being small and obviously cheap - it was relatively fresh renovation and almost didn’t look like you rented this thing for 5 hours, though you couldn’t kill the thought of people coming in here to specifically have sex, and you couldn’t stop thinking on the number of people that had sex in this exact room and you couldn’t stop thinking how you most likely are going to end up doing the same thing and what’s even worse than that, you couldn’t stop thinking-

“What if there’s a hidden camera? Or worse… many cameras?“ You couldn’t even lift your hand to reveal your face to possibly hidden viewers in this room. 

“What?“ Yuta chuckled at your -ridiculous- suggestion, before swallowing and leaving his backpack alone to stand in front of you. The bed had tall legs, allowing Yuta to not bend too much to be on your level. His fingers squeezed your cheeks and forced the face mask down your face. “I wouldn’t bring you to some weird ass place with sperm sprayed all over the walls.“ Well, good, but still, you would’ve appreciated an actual hotel much more. “I heard good things about this place from my friends… well, because not everyone is Jeong Jaehyun with an apartment in Apgujeong.“ there was no emotion in the tone of his voice, he was just saying things he thought, but it stung so fucking badly how he always had to put Jaehyun in comparison. Even if his family home was in the most expensive district of Seoul, it didn’t mean Yuta was any poor coming here from Japan. He was poor because in the circumstance he was a foreigner with no home and was sent a certain amount by his parents, not because he didn’t have any money at home. It wasn’t about Jaehyun or this place or anything else at all. It was about you and Yuta, but somehow he wanted it to be about someone else too. “Anyway, my friends come here sometimes, it’s not too low class, at least these sheets are clean, okay? Once I have a better option, we won’t have to do it like that.“

“Okay.“ You gave Yuta an unnoticeable nod, his lips brushing the corner of your lips in reply. 

“There’s no hidden cam, don’t even think of such things. I wouldn’t bring you to a place like that nor would I risk my very real career for a fuck.“ Very real as if in what you were doing wasn’t that real? Or were you trying to read between the lines too much because you were in a very smitten mood. Almost in a mood where if you weren’t your usual mushy self when it came to Yuta you would’ve stood up and left. Because this was making you feel uncomfortable to an extent you can’t describe. “It’s your birthday, I just wanted us to be together. I have a surprise, close your eyes.“ Yuta smiled at you sweetly, like when he wanted you to do things he wanted and you didn’t. You gave him a smile too, because you were getting all grumpy and unfriendly because whatever this was didn’t meet with your expectations. You pecked his lips and closed your eyes with a smile on your lips that hurt a little, because you were trying really hard not to think of your last birthday, when Jaehyun invited you to that Apgujeong home and made you feel happy. 

You listened to Yuta’s shuffling, probably in that backpack of his, finally you felt his knees bump into yours as he got back in front of you and you felt his fingers wrap around yours. “You can open your eyes.“ And you did so on command, met with a view of Yuta in a birthday hat, throwing a spiral confetti in your face. “Happy birthday!“

“Thank you.“ You smiled, flinching as the thrown confetti almost hit your face. Yuta’s now free hand pushed your cap off your head, forcefully putting on a party cone that said birthday girl. You chuckled sincerely, helping Yuta with the elastic band over your chin. 

“I love you, birthday girl.“ you beamed because despite what you just thought and felt you loved him too. Yuta leaned in to you a little more making the ring on his necklace visible from his shirt, you didn’t even have a second to think, you just leaned in and kissed his mouth, because there was nothing else to do. The past year have been very tough on the both of you. You started it off badly with your transition and after that long break of not talking to each other you rebuild what you had in a very low-key manner. Too low-key even for your liking, you couldn’t imagine what Yuta felt like. You could quite possibly count on your fingers the number of times the two of you kissed, so kissing him like this felt a little unreal. Just your lips on Yuta’s, being able to move slowly, marking every bit of his mouth with love and need, to be in his arms and continue kissing him like that. You invited Yuta’s tongue in your mouth, as he moved it slowly against your closed lips. He finally grabbed onto your neck, allowing for you to slightly back up against his hold, because it was hard for you to hold your composure. You almost forgot how good of a kisser Yuta was - not that you had anyone to compare it to - your tongue licked against his and as your body leaned back against the mattress, Yuta chased your mouth, not wishing to break the kiss even for a moment, finding balance next to your shoulders. “You’re making it incredibly hard to focus on anything else, my love.“ Yuta found it in him to pull away for a moment, only to lean back in and kiss your cupids bow, pressing his nose against your cheek. 

“What were you planning to do, bringing me to an hourly motel?“ You chuckled, not even annoyed anymore, just curious because it did sound a little funny to you.

“We probably spent less than 24 hours together in a whole damn year since your last birthday. Doing anything together is fine. I mean it when I say I miss you.“ Yuta bit onto his lip, staring you down. “I haven’t seen you up close like this probably in a whole fucking year, and you’re my girlfriend. How ridiculous is that?“  

“I always think of that time we went to Japan and had a real nice date. That is the sweetest thing anyone ever did to me.“

“Me too, I always think about that night.“ Yuta’s lips kissed your jaw, as his body dropped on the bed next to you, unable to hold his bodyweight with his arms any longer. “When your first vacation comes, first thing we’re doing - a trip anywhere, just you and me.“

“Promise?“ Your heart chirped, that’s exactly a promise you needed from him.

“Yes, love, promise.“ Yuta cosied himself on the mattress, snaking both his hands to lay half of you on top of him. 

“What if our schedules don’t ever match up?“ You worried.

“I don’t think it’s possible for us to never match in schedules. Don’t worry, I’ll make it work for you.“ Yuta’s fingers trailed a line from your elbow to the shoulder. You had to swallow, because you really wanted to ask him why would he not make it work for your school graduation when Jaehyun did make it work. Jaehyun, who was a little busier with schedules than Yuta, you needed to be a blind fool to not notice how your friend had side gigs and Yuta didn’t. He had no excuse to not come, the thought been eating you up for months. You had to swallow it once again, because you didn’t want to fight, because maybe not saying a thing about it now, months after, was the best thing for you. Maybe Yuta couldn’t even remember by now, since he never brought it up himself.

-

You rolled your arms before your body, bouncing slightly on the floor to the beat, as the last beat approached, you counted in your head 1 and 2 and 3 and 4, and stood up gracefully with a turn in the ending pose. After a pause for not longer than 5 seconds you heard intensive clapping and even sounds of encouragement behind you. 5 people in front of you though kept their faces emotionless, but somehow it didn’t faze you anymore. They always tried to keep that mysterious aura, fear everyone to insecurity and plain panic, but if you worked hard they didn’t usually say a bad thing-or more likely you didn’t hear them say bad things to you and others-, well, you developed an ability of turning your brain off as soon as your bum met with the floor and you weren’t sure how things went for others. It’s been a year and you still didn’t make many friends in the company and at this point pretty much gave up and kept everyone as friendly acquaintance. At least they didn’t want to be mean in your face, fake friendliness you could bare with. Everyone clapped and cheered because it’d paint them as supportive friends and good people - more points when it comes to evaluations. You knew the rule and followed it yourself, this clearly wasn’t the place to be not like other girls, but it didn’t change anything.

You bent a little and caught your breath in two heavy breathes, straining your back back at the evaluation committee. 

“Good.“ Your choreographer nodded to fellow evaluators. “Questions, notes, grades?“ 

“Could you share with us why you chose the choreography and the song?“ Mr.Lee, the creative director asks you.

“Theme of this month is hip-hop, we had guest choreographers this month that helped us improve our hip-hop skills. I wanted to do something fresh and relevant, something that would allow for you to see my improvement, but wouldn’t be a copy-paste of things we did in class. Seemed like a perfect choice.“ You noticed a slight nod in the oratory teachers’ head, you breathed in satisfied - you definitely checked off a box in her list. 

“Wasn’t the song released on Wednesday? You learned it in one day?“ your choreographer continued with the questions, only to be interrupted by JYP himself.

“You didn’t prepare for the evaluation well? Choosing a song so new is very irresponsible.“ The song was released just a day ago, they were right, but you did prepare for the evaluation thoroughly. You’ve been learning this choreo whenever you had an opportunity to see or hear Yuta, whenever the two of you face timed or very rarely talked in person. You would’ve told them the truth if it didn’t borne more questions and awkward stares. Your only option was to claim you were able to learn it in one glance.  

“No, I was preparing GOT7’s Never Ever, but heard the NCT song yesterday and thought how it clearly fits the hip-hop theme better. Changed my choice last minute.“ Yes, you somehow had the crazy idea of doing Cherry Bomb for the monthly evaluation in a day after it was released. You hoped it was believable you were able to learn the dance in a day. They looked at you for a few seconds and you didn’t understand the meaning behind the stare. “I believe I was able to show my own colour while following the choreography flawlessly and be on theme.“ You stated confidently, they tried to push you into insecurity - it was their way of doing things, one of already debuted artists at the company shared the life hack. Stand your ground and talk confidently - they’ll accept any answer as long as they don’t see you flinch at persistence. 

“If you learned the choreo that flawlessly in a day it’s impressive.“ Your choreographer smiled at you in a very low-key manner and you bowed, to show your gratitude and hide traces of a smile you swallowed.

“Did you learn the whole dance or just the dance break?“ Your eyes darted back at JYP that seemed curious. 

You knew by heart the whole thing through Yuta’s part. The only reason you chose the dance break hid behind the fact that somehow NCT had the most embarrassing dance moves throughout the song and doing all those jumps and weird hand movements in front of all these people on your own would’ve killed you. For real. The dance break plus last chorus including that part where you had to drop on your back for the ending point was the perfect fit for the 60 seconds you were given to perform. 

“I learned most of the song, but I enjoyed the dance break and chorus the most, thus decided to show that part.“

“Okay, I have nothing to add. If you’re ready, we can get to singing.“ you nodded and took a step to the mark on the floor. 

You had a tingling sensation of nervousness at the back of your neck. It was always advised to not take long to start off, otherwise you could possibly be asked to step away as unprofessional. You took a breath and made a sound with your throat. 

“Ah, I heard you took first place in your evaluation group.“ Yeji smiled at you, you gave her a barely noticeable nod as you and a bunch of other people left the elevator. “Cool, that means we’re training in the same group for the upcoming month.“ You stopped midway as you were pulling your mask up, almost automatic move as you were leaving the building. 

“You placed first?“ You exclaimed, your voice resonating probably through the whole hall. She gave you an excited nod, and you felt so happy for her. She worked so hard to beat everyone this time and you jumped excitedly, squeezing the girl in front of you excitedly. She clearly was taken aback for a moment, hence the two of you never hugged or had much physical contact in the past year, but you felt happy for her and maybe felt like it was the time to break the wall. You let go of Yeji, grabbing her wrists next and jumping excitedly, making the girl hyped up and jump with you. “Yay! Yeji, I’m so proud of you.“ Your fingers squeezed the life out of her wrists. “They want us to do duet for this month, to see how well we work in smaller teams.“

“Really? I haven’t heard of this months’ theme yet. If you don’t have a partner yet, it’d be such an honour for me to pair up with you.“

“Stop! It’s no honour and I would love to work on something with you.“

“Yay!“ She clapped and her pretty eyes and smile made you so happy. You genuinely felt happy for her, you genuinely felt proud. You felt a little flare up in your chest that you didn’t want it to ignite too much, but the thought crossed your mind anyway. If only we could debut together.