#there are things it doesn’t make sense for him to do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catiuskaa · 1 day

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Game On, Game Boy.

SUMMARY: dating someone from the opposing team is banned? So what? Minho isn’t dating that cute girl with the purple headset, they clearly hate each other! …wait, what? You never said it was her? O-oh… um, well…

REQUESTED! here by my pookie dookie @15092000volcano, who OMG LOVE YOU GOT SOME IDEAS™️ and i’m 100% here for it!

WC: 3.8k

CW: extensive use of curse words, use of petnames, gaming lingo that i won’t explain (sorry), a sneaky mention of changlix and a ridiculously explicit mention of hyunin because idk broski i just felt like it

[♦️★ 🎯 ★♦️]

“Are you sure this is the section you’re supposed to be in, Lee?”

Minho’s eyes turned darker and he chuckled a cold laugh that could’ve frozen the Han river over a hundred times.

No one noticed the slight smile he let out that was quickly hidden again.

“Look who it is,” Minho beamed a newly found energy, as if a dark, bad, and rude soul had just taken control of his mean smile. “If it isn’t other than the wrongly chosen personality hire of… mhh… I don’t remember… sorry, dollface, what’s the name of your team again?”

Behind him, a blond guy stared at him, eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. He turned around and faced one of his other team players.

“Hey, hyung. Does Minho know that girl?” Felix asked in a low voice. “He… doesn’t look too happy.” That was a nice way to put it.

Changbin rolled his eyes at the encounter, throwing his arm over Felix’s shoulders.

“Her username is something like ‘soondondori25”. Minho and her met a while back, in high school. As little as he’s said, one thing’s for sure: they really don’t like each other.”

Despite it not looking too good for the team the fact that its leader wasn’t behaving with their opponents, Seo huffed, not paying any mind to the arguing pair, unlike Felix, whose eyes stayed glued to his other hyung and the new girl, still going at each other.

"I bet you’re still using the overpowered weapon. Can’t really get past Nerf Bastian, can ya?” You stated mockingly, your cheeks red as you kept arguing. “I guess you need all the help you can get."

"Says the one who relies on camping. Can't face me head-on, huh?” Minho grinned with a sense of superiority, stepping forward. “Scared, dollface?”

You bit your lip, your eyes locked on his.

"You won’t need to worry about my team’s name, sweetie. I’ll make sure you never forget it.” Your stare would’ve burnt a forest just by staring at the grass for a bit too long.

“Still can't win without relying on cheap strategies, can you?"

Minho settled his hands on his pockets, halfly staring down at you, as if mocking your height.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You chuckled lowly. You said it with a smirk, which Minho was fast to return. “Still stuck on that low-tier character, right? It seems like you need to step up your game, buddy."

“Oh, please!” Minho passed a hand through his hair, his tone hinting mocked amusement. He bent down lightly, his face in front of yours. “You're just a sore loser who can't handle a fair fight. Go back to your corner and cry some more, dollface.”

“Keep telling yourself that. We both know you're just jealous I'm better at this game than you."

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, dollface. I still manage to win against you. Seems like you're just bitter about losing."

The battle of comebacks kept going on, both of you stepping closer to each other with each sentence, as if about to throw hands.

“Ah, fuck! They do this every year!” Someone from your team approached the both of you while cursing. You ignored him at first, but then halfly gasped, facing your teammate.

“Jisung, I swear he started.”

“Yeah, Jisung. I started.” Minho cackled mockingly. “Tell Santa so I don’t have toys this Christmas.”

Han squinted at Minho. “Sure. As if I fucking care.” He then turned to face you, handing you a red shirt. “Yours. We’re red for the first round.” He stated seriously, taking on the role of team leader.

Minho and you stared at each other deeply just as Jisung flew the scene, missing how you two were basking in the glow of shared secrets.

“I’m team red, bunny,” you snickered at him in a smug tone. “You know what that means.”

“Superstition is for the rookies, dollface,” he said, his smile confirming the nickname you gave him was well justified.

No one knew the troubles the both of you had gone through. That’s why you smiled, knowing that when the round ended and you were both done for the day, —when you won, of course—, your boyfriend would still owe you a kiss.

All this mean smack talk was purely for the benefit of the other rival teams. Minho was happy to let you prove yourself to those who couldn’t grasp the idea that a girl in sparkly, cute dresses and what some would call ‘over the top’ makeup belonged in the competition. Minho and you both knew that one of the toughest rounds would certainly be against one another. You know exactly how good of a gamer he is, and likewise, his team had already heard about how your team had broken records during trials —named team Levanter, even if your endearing opponent pretended not to know it—, but there was no real animosity here.

Not an easy thing to hide, considering that to you it was obiously noticeable how Minho’s eyes hadn’t left your lips in what seemed like ten minutes. But yeah. No animosity. Just a knack for competition. And a bet that decides who’s making dinner for the night, but right now…

Right now was about the fight.

Both team Levanter and team Thunderous were sat in places, red vs blue once again as several cameras from the streaming platform that broadcasted the event were turned on, recording each player while the ref briefly introduced them with a loud tone for the crowd.

“Levanter, ready?” He asked with a smile meant for the thousands and thousands of viewers streaming online as the camera focused on him shortly.

“Ready,” Jisung smirked, to which everyone in your team logged in the computers before you as a response.

“Thunderous, ready?”

Minho smiled in your direction, holding back a chuckle when he noticed you had already been staring, then threw a wink at him.

“Ready,” he said.

You two exchanged a glance, openly competitive, any other meanings hidden between you two and the red thread that joined your little fingers, a silent agreement breaking the rules —the same ones you broke barely half an hour ago, when his lips consumed yours, or that you’re probably going to be rehashing the whole gameplay in your shared apartment and no one will know.

(And sure, you might do other things, too.)

The sound blasted in your headset when you settled it in place. You gave one last look to Minho, and he mumbled towards you with a smile.

“See you on the other side, dollface.”

“You’re the worst.” An easy shorthand for love you.

He smiled, and there was a knowledge that made your heart smile too, because winning or losing, in the end, you were coming back to his arms.

Your hands tightened and you cracked your knuckles, settling them back in place, one over the keyboard and the other on the mouse. You were nervous, yeah, but not afraid. This was your comfort zone. This is your comfort zone.

“COUNTDOWN,” the ref shouted, the numbers showing up in the complete view in the big screen behind him. “STARTING IN 3…! 2…! 1…!”

[♦️★ 🎯 ★♦️]

The vehicle shuddered when you closed the door with a thud.

You two stayed in silence for a bit, merely listening to the rain as the droplets hit the car nonchalantly.

“Can I be smug about it?” You smiled cheekily.

“Just ‘cause I ain’t that much of a sore loser, you get two minutes.” He scoffed with fake annoyance, which wasn’t truly worrying because he didn’t put any effort on hiding his smile, too.

You snickered, turning your body to face him, teasing him even before starting.

“But you owe me something first, dollface.”

You rolled your eyes. “It ain’t even that good of a nickname, Min.”

But then his hand, always a little colder than yours, swiftly gripped you by your neck, fingers stroking your nape as you held back a shiver, easily less than an inch away from him now.

“Would you rather I call you buddy?”

You smiled, eyes wondering where to focus, in a trance between his eyes, deep and enticing, or his lips, sweet and so stupidly kissable.

“Hurt much?” You pouted mockingly. You were obviously not expecting him to bite your lower lip.

He laughed, a menace he was, but he was quickly winned over —dare I say once more— when you pulled him towards your lips by tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Minho smiled as you let him take control.

“Your two minutes are over.” He whispered over your lips, leaving a small peck on your forehead before turning to the steering wheel.

You were about to complain, but that was before his hand, a bit warmer now, was strategically placed just a bit further up your knee.

He gave you a playful side eye.

You rolled your eyes again, to which he chuckled.

“Before you start snickering and bitching about what you want for dinner, princess,” Minho started speaking with a smile, his hand not leaving your leg as he started the engine, “seeing as I didn’t go to the grocery store and neither did you, we’re doing take-out.”

“That’s so unfair!” You argued as he manoeuvred to get the car out of the parallel spot. You stayed silent until he did, faking a pout. “You made me buy groceries last time I lost.”

He cackled. “Because I drive, silly.”

You glared at him. He grinned.

“I’ll call your mom.” You threatened. “I’ll make sure she takes the cats with her the days you have free.”

He gave you a stare with wide eyes once he encountered a red light.

“But honey, those are my children too.” His fake tone of worry was too funny to not burst out in laughter, to which he happily joined in.

“Shits and giggles aside, don’t,” he smiled. “Last time you did she told my dad and he still makes jokes about it.”

You acted smugly as you fetched for the aux cord and plugged it to your phone, scrolling down through your music app.

“Of course he does,” you snorted with a toothy grin. “I’m amazing. And even if we’re doing take-out I will beat the shit out of you if you don’t make lasagna before Friday.” You threatened again with a silly smile. “You know I can.”

He snorted too, his hand playfully squeezing your leg for a second.

“I know,” he mumbled absentmindedly, tracing patterns over your knee. “But we’re getting sushi tonight.”

The idea seemed nice enough, so in a silent agreement you settled on a playlist you knew he’d sing along to. Just as Wonder Girls started to play, he giggled, his hand tickling your knee —something as ticklish as confusing, really—.

“Cheeky.” He snickered, unable to not join in to your efforts into making the korean lyrics make sense, singing for a fun time, not a long one, specially when after Tell me finished, the next songs calmed down the upbeat vibe and soothed it sweetly, your boyfriend humming only when he concentrated on the road ahead.

He shoved you one of his hoodies that he had kept in the seats in the back, because he knew you’d show up with clothing that as beatiful as you looked with it, he just clicked his tongue and tutted at you when you tried to enter the restaurant after he parked, and sneakily locked the doors. You squinted your eyes at him.

“Put that on, missy.” He snickered, eyebrows up. “As funny as the idea may seem, cold as a concept isn’t psychological.”

You chuckled at his commentary, and quickly threw it on, a silly smile on your face when you realized that it smelled like him.

“Sure, Mr Charmer.” You shook your head sideways, smirking once he unlocked the car and you could open the door. “For the record, pretty boy, I’m just doing it cause you left money on the pocket.” You cackled and skipped inside the restaurant, with him chuckling just a bit behind you.

The restaurant was fairly empty, saving a couple of tables that were reserved for later and other customers that had barely started to eat.

You hid the twenty bucks bill you found in your phone case, and Minho pretended to forget about it when he saw you grin. You smiled at him gingerly, thinking where would it be a good place to put the it in where he could find it later.

He let you choose from the menu, trusting your taste and letting you pick the items for the both of you, doozing off slowly, distracting himself with the strange tipping device that the restaurant had on the counter top. Upon inspection, it was clearly a lucky cat figure, that when coins were placed on its hand, he’d just… eat them…?

“To go, yeah?” the young man at the counter asked with a tiny smile, wearing a small name tag that read “JEONGIN” in big letters.

You nodded, but noticed ‘Jeongin’ gave your really-interested-in-the-stupid-ass-tip-animal-robot company a look, and you stared at Minho too, scratching your cheek absentmindedly.

“Is he with you?” He asked nonchalantly, merely starting small talk.

You smiled. “Yeah. A girl needs a wallet from time to time.”

He snorted, nodding in agreement. “He’s… something.”

“Thanks. He’s rescue.”

You felt a hand slither into the pockets of your hoodie. Well. Technically his.

“Stop telling people that.” He huffed, laying his forehead on your shoulder.

Jeongin snickered at the two of you. “My boyfriend is a rescue too,” he winked. “This is his uniform, because he used mine by mistake and stained it with soja sauce.”

“Oh. So you’re not Jeongin, I guess?” You chuckled gently.

“I’m Hyunjin.” He corrected with a smile. After a bit, he handed you your order in a plastic bag. “It was nice to meet you two!”

You waved back with a sheepish smile as you two exited.

[♦️★ 🎯 ★♦️]

“WHAT?!” You screamed, the mic on your purple headset able to catch it flawlessly, as in response you started hearing laughs.

You stared at the screen, the music lowering as your character approached your house —or what used to be your house—.

“Y-yeah,” Seungmin’s voice chimed in, who tried to explain once more in between laughs, “Changbin added landscape mods o-or something,” he chuckled. “The storms can start fires.”

“B-HUH?” You frowned, trying to extinguish the fire that remained around. “Fuck that! What the fuck was Notch onto with this bullshit?”

Felix and Changbin still were unable to speak, as they continued to laugh loudly in the call. You went to Discord for a second, and muted them both. “You guys, shut up!”

They were muted, so you couldn’t possibly know if they had listened to you —most likely not—. Going back to Minecraft, you went in your house, and started looking around in your chest room if you had any wood to spare to repair the ceiling.

“Motherf- I gotta go chop wood?” You scoffed. “Brother.” You were starting to get pissed off, so you breathed in, fixing your glasses in position and your mind went back to the stream, and you started talking to the chat while getting the materials.

“Shit, I ran out of torches,” you cursed, going on your inventory to see if you had more. Oops. You didn’t. And you didn’t have much food either. Suddenly, zombie noises started to blast in your headset, several arrows hitting you.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you used your shield, trying to find your enemies. “Where is this bitch?”

Minho went to the kitchen, that was a door away from your streaming room, able to hear loud noises coming from inside. He raised his eyebrows, wondering what could be happening in the gameplay.

“MOTHERFUCKER?! I DON’T— FUCK THIS SHIT! IT’S DISGUSTING. HEY, IT’S DISGUSTING THAT- THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE. HE’S AN IDIOT. HOPE HE CHOKES ON LENTILS, FUCK!”

You stormed out of the room, encountering Minho barely a couple steps away from the door.

He blinked, puzzled. “I’m making lasagna…?”

You struggled to calm down, just knowing you didn’t want to lash out at him.

“Time-out?” He questioned, wondering if you wanted some time on your own.

You flinched when you finally realized he was in front of you, your shoulders lowering and your body physically relaxing as you sighed and shook your head sideways.

“A storm burned down part of my roof and then a creeper blew me up when I was trying to fix it.” You sighed. “And then Changbin stole all my materials.”

“Did you turn off stream?” He wondered soothingly, his hands cupping your face and lightly scratching the back of your head.

You shook your head again. “I just turned the camera and the mic off, but it’s still on.”

“And you want to keep playing?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, one of your hands traveling to his. “Thanks, Min.”

He entered the streaming room with you, his arms over your shoulders.

“Where is she though?” Changbin questioned. “She’s not answering.”

“Dude.” Felix let out in shock.

“Lix?” Seungmin questioned.

“Guys, look at her stream.”

Minho left a peck on your head and ruffled your hair.

“Text me if you need anything, yeah?”

You smiled. “Thanks, bunny.”

You put your headphones back on, moving the mouse to turn on the screens again.

…maybe the camera hadn’t exactly been turned off.

You stared at the stream, eyes wide open as the chat started going wild.

…oops.

[♦️★ 🎯 ★♦️]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~kats, who now wants to go play some minecraft.

182 notes · View notes

aventvrines · 3 days

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second best ; sae itoshi x f!reader PART 1

note: got to 10k words and decided to cut it in half<3

wc ; 8.8k | content ; slow burn..? swearing, tension, angst, situationship, kissing, making out, crying, more angst, lots of timeskips, not proofread, reader has a huge crush on sae bc tbh who wouldn't, sae is rich, cringe cliche tropes i'm sorry, english isn't my first language, two parter?, no prns but reader wears a dress, ooc, reader and sae both have rich and absentt

summary ; growing up with sae itoshi isn't quite what you'd expect

Sae Itoshi isn’t exactly sure when he first meets you – there are no formal introductions or anything of that sort. One day, you enter his life, and you never really bother to leave after. He’s kind of the same for you, appearing all of a sudden – your parents’ friends’ kid, a neighbor of yours – and never disappearing afterwards. As unlikely as it sounds, you’re probably one of his oldest friends – his first friend, as a matter of fact. [Not including Rin, that is. And not including the fact that he doesn’t really see anyone as friends, either.] Coincidentally, you’re also his first kiss.

It’s another one of those things he’s not quite sure about; he doesn’t know how it happened or why, exactly. All he remembers is that he’s twelve, and you’re sulking on the swings next to him at the park, refusing to talk. He doesn’t really care, but you huff so obnoxiously, for so long that he’s forced to take the bait. Only because he feels a little bad for you, though.

“What’s up?”

You perk up ever so slightly at the sound of his voice. It’s a small movement, one that only he sees, because playing soccer has already significantly honed his senses, and because he’s known you for the past seven years. You’re still upset, though, judging from the stupid pout on your face. The one that annoys him to the core, for some reason, even though he doesn’t even care.

“The boys in class called me ugly,” you sigh. Sae thinks he’s too mature to worry about little things like these, but you’re still tender, and apparently it matters a lot to you. He’s not the type to lie to comfort people, and he doesn’t lie when he replies to you. It’s a simple statement, one that he doesn’t think too much of.

“You are pretty, though,” he says. He’s confused; why would the others lie to you? You’re not ugly in the slightest.

“What?”

“I said, you are pretty,” he repeats.

You shake your head.

“Not pretty like in a friends way, Sae,” you chastise him with a tilt of your head. “Like, in a, uhh–” you cut yourself off, chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully. “Like, you’d wanna kiss me, that kinda pretty.”

“I’d kiss you.”

This time you’re surprised. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I would.”

“Wouldn’t.”

“Would too.”

“Do it then,” you huff, confident that you’ve won the argument.

“Okay,” Sae replies, flat and emotionless. He slides off his swing, making his way towards yours. You stop swinging yourself, confused, and he grabs the ropes on either side of your swing, forcing its final halfhearted sways to an end. “So? Wanna kiss?”

It seems that you’ve finally realized he’s serious. “Oh…”

“Well? Don’t waste my time,” he grumbles, but there’s no actual malice behind his words. He thinks you know him well enough to know that, and you do, because then you’re getting off your swing too, and there’s a tense, awkward moment before you lean in, and then–

It’s nothing like you’d imagined; there are no fireworks, and there’s no cheesy romance music in the background either. But the feeling of Sae’s lips on yours are terrifyingly real. But then he pulls back abruptly, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and looks you up and down quizzically. “Happy now?”

You seem unsure of what to say, and he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns around, ready to leave. “I’ve got soccer practice later,” he announces. “I gotta go.”

Sae doesn’t need to see your face to know how it falls, disappointed. He doesn’t look back as he walks away, because even at this young age, he knows how to pick his battles. And he doesn’t really care about you all that much, but he still doesn’t like it when you’re sad.

“Bye,” you mutter, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He doesn’t bring up the kiss the next day. Or the day after. Or after that. It’s like it never even happened. And if he were anyone, anyone else, you would’ve worried – even a little bit, because you’ve read those cute tween romance books that your best friend lends you – about how the friendship would work after this; but he’s Sae, and Sae doesn’t have friends. You’ve heard the whole spiel before – how he doesn’t care for friends, how he has Rin if he needs company, how soccer is always, always, always his first priority – and even though he’s basically told you that you aren’t friends, he’s never told you to leave either. So it’s not like he doesn’t like you, right?

But then again, it’s kinda changed everything for you. Because suddenly, Sae is no longer just Sae. It’s as if something in your brain finally clicks, and you realize that Sae is a boy too. It’s as if you’ve always seen him as an extension of your girlfriends, but now it’s different. So, so different. For the first time, you look at him like he’s one of the cute boys in class – because he is.

And unbeknownst to you, Sae notices. He sees the way you stare at him unabashedly when you think he’s not looking, how your movements suddenly become more calculated around him. Suddenly, you’ve stopped speaking your mind around him, started caring more about your appearance instead. You’re more conscious of your words and actions, and you keep applying and reapplying the strawberry lipgloss that’s always on your person The regular afternoons at the swing set in the park before practice have turned into hanging out maybe once a fortnight; instead of bugging him to hang out, you now shyly wave goodbye at him after school, and he watches you run over to your friends. You all giggle and push each other around, and if he notices the indiscreet glances your friends throw at him, or hears one of you say his name, he makes an effort to steadfastly ignore it.

It’s already kind of pathetic, how obvious you are with your little crush on him. He tries his best to ignore it, even when your entire face burns red when he throws you a ghost of a smile. But sometimes, even he finds it hard to resist teasing you. He deserves it, right? In his mind, he does. If you’re going to pine over him like this, might as well mess with you at least once while you do so.

It’s a week before your thirteenth birthday – he’s already turned thirteen by then – when he looks at you, feigning curiosity. “Y/n?”

You look at him, startled. “Yeah?”

“What happened to that guy you used to like, what was his name again-”

“N-nothing!” you stammer, interrupting him. “I don’t like anyone, I mean him, anymore!”

Sae’s lips quirk up momentarily; he shakes his head and walks away as you blush and babble incoherently, hands stuffed deep into his pockets.

You’re actually kinda cute.

Kinda.

He doesn’t know why it feels this good to have you indirectly confirm that you like him.

Thirteen passes by so fast, but it leaves you dealing with so many changes too.

There are no more afternoons spent at the swing set in the park.

At fourteen, you stop focusing on yourself for long enough to notice that Sae is changing too. He’s suddenly much taller than you, voice beginning to get deeper. He lets his reddish-brown hair grow out so it frames his face – somewhat unevenly, but it’s still pretty. He’s started to spend more time at soccer practice, and it shows. Like, physically. The muscles in his arms and legs have started to become more defined, and the number of girls who are into him have therefore increased drastically. It irks you. And then he actually starts dating, and it pisses you off even more, because 1) since you’ve basically grown up together, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend, and 2) girls are basically lining up to date him, even when all the relationships he’s been in so far barely last a month, and his personality is ass, and he always prioritizes soccer more.

He doesn’t deserve it just because he’s pretty.

You don’t really understand why they do it; you’ve been pining for him silently for almost two years, and even though you fantasize him liking you back, and marrying you in the future, you know you probably wouldn’t do anything with him, not right now, not when he’s like this. You hope that if anything happens with him, you’ll be sensible enough to not pursue it. And you even miss just being friends with him – now that he’s busy with soccer, and teaching Rin, and girls, he doesn’t have any time for anything else. Anything else being you, in this case.

You barely talk to him anymore, and it’s not like he makes any effort either.

You miss him.

Sae doesn’t take all these relationships seriously at all; he’s fifteen, and no one really falls in love at fifteen, right? Besides, it’s not like any of these girls want him for anything other than his looks and money. They’re pretty, sure, and it’s fun sneaking around and having someone cheer for him at his soccer matches is nice, but he doesn’t really care for it in the end.

Freshman prom takes place when you’re almost sixteen. You’re one of those few people who doesn’t have a date; you’ve never dated anyone and quite frankly, you’re contemplating whether you should go at all. Maybe you won’t waste money on a dress and makeup and just stay home instead – it won’t be worth it to go alone and face the awkwardness of not having someone with you. All your friends have dates, so you’ll basically be alone anyways, and you don’t want them to give anything up for you – you know they would.

You’re thinking of all this while stranded on one of the higher seats on the bleachers; your friend Asa’s boyfriend is at soccer practice, and she’s brought you with her to watch. You’re not very interested in whatever they’re doing down there, but Asa appears to be, since she’s left you up here alone to go down to talk to her boyfriend. You look up momentarily, not expecting to see anything interesting, but then you catch sight of a familiar number on the back of a jersey – number 10. Despite not wanting to give in to his effortless allure, you can’t help but drag your eyes down the vast expanse of his broad back, down to where it tapers off into a surprisingly small waist, and then his toned legs. If he’s like this at sixteen, you can’t even imagine what he’ll look like when he’s older.

And then he turns around. And your eyes meet. He smirks at you, as if he knows you’ve been staring. You tear your eyes away from his mesmerizing teal ones, trying to focus on the math book that’s perched precariously on your lap. A moment later, you glance up again, thinking he’s moved to some other part of the field, but instead he’s approaching the bleachers, specifically in your direction. You panic for a second – maybe he’s just going to talk to someone else down there, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. But then he starts climbing the steps, one by one, until he stops at your level. Please walk past me, please walk past me, please–

He sits down on the seat next to yours. You keep your gaze fixed firmly on the notebook, refusing to acknowledge his existence until he acknowledges yours.

“You got a date?”

“Huh?” your brain doesn’t register the question before your answer flies out of your mouth. “What?”

Sae sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. Even now, sweaty and tired and annoyed, he looks absolutely gorgeous. “Prom, you have a date?”

“Actually I’m thinking of not going at all,” you admit sheepishly.

“Why not?” Sae has the audacity to actually look interested.

“It’ll be awkward,” you reply flatly. “All my friends have dates, but I don’t, so I won’t have anyone to be with, and if I tell them I’m going alone, they’ll just ditch their boyfriends to hang out with me. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Go with me, then.”

“What?”

“Be my date, to prom,” he sighs.

“Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“Don’t you have a date? I thought girls chase you everywhere,” you scoff.

“What, you jealous?” he says, almost as if he’s musing.

“Of course not!” you lie.

“So? Is it a yes, or do I gotta find some other girl to take?”

“I don’t think you have to go looking to find one,” you reply coldly.

He snickers in response, but there’s no mirth behind it. “I’m serious. I want you to go with me.”

You’d hoped to be sensible in situations like these. Spoiler alert: you’d hoped wrong. You are, after all, only fifteen.

“What about your girlfriend, though?” you ask him later.

“We broke up.” he replies curtly. Of course they did.

You ignore the twisted glee that boils in the pits of your stomach.

Your friends are probably more excited than you when you tell them who’s taking you to prom; you try to convince them – and also yourself – that it’s nothing like that, it’s purely platonic. But you still don’t know why he chose you. You’re also not sure why you accepted. If only he wasn’t so damn pretty.

You’re not deaf – the whispers start as soon as you enter prom attached to the Sae Itoshi’s side, the corsage on your wrist matching the boutonnière on the lapel of his tuxedo. All eyes are on the two of you; the soccer prodigy and his childhood friend. But Sae is surprisingly courteous tonight. He notices your discomfort almost immediately, squeezing your hand reassuringly to calm you down.

“Ignore them,” he advises you under his breath. He’s nothing like the person you’ve known so far. Is this how he treats his girlfriends? You shrug the thought off, instead forcing yourself to smile up at him.

“I’m fine,” you murmur.

You’re not.

Sae is an excellent date; he dances with you until you’re tired, refuses to leave your side, and looks after your punch when you go to the bathroom. He seems somewhat tired, but it feels like he’s trying to hide it, so you don’t mention it. But then again, you’ve been wrapped up in your own thoughts again. Because of tonight, the emotional part of your crush on Sae has once again been reawakened – he’s no longer a piece of eye candy you stare at when you’re bored.

And then, just when you decide things can’t get any worse, they do.

“Y/n, Sae, c’mere,” calls Asa. “Let's play spin the bottle!”

You shake your head, about to refuse, but Sae grabs your hand and starts walking towards the small group that’s assembled around a glass bottle that’s half full of some dubious liquid you can’t quite identify.

“Sure,” he says. “We’ll play.”

Fuck.

The circle consists of you, Sae, Asa, her boyfriend Denji, your other friend Maki, and a bunch of other people you don’t know by name. You’re sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor of the gymnasium, and for some reason, you have a really bad feeling about this. Maki goes first, leaning forward to spin the bottle with a swift flick of her fingers. It slows down near you, moves to Sae – your breath catches in your throat as it inches past – and stops in front of Asa. She leans in, giving Maki a cursory peck on the lips before pulling back. They’re both laughing, and she leans into Denji, immediately murmuring an apology. He shakes his head, grinning. “I don’t mind, babe, I swear! But whose turn is it now?”

Everyone turns to look at you.

Shit.

You swallow nervously, reaching out to the bottle with one shaky hand. You don’t know why you’re this anxious. Taking a deep breath, you spin. It takes longer than you expect. You can hardly breathe – and then Sae bends his head towards yours, whispering, “Calm down, it’ll be fine.”

But it isn’t. Because as soon as the words exit his mouth, the bottle comes to a stop. And because the universe does everything it possibly can to fuck you over, it comes to a stop in front of Sae. You hastily shake your head. “It’s okay, we don’t have to–”

“What?” he interrupts. “You don’t wanna kiss me?”

“It’s not that,” an angry flush spreads across your cheeks, and your hands ball up into tight fists. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Make it ten seconds at least, this time!” Someone cheers, but you’re only looking at Sae. You turn towards him, and just like that, you and Sae share your second kiss together. He’s obviously much more experienced than you, tilting your head up with one hand to get a better angle. His lips are chapped, but still soft. It feels… nice. You almost wish you were dating him. But when you finally relax, almost starting to enjoy it, he pulls back. “See? It wasn’t that bad.”

You nod, flustered, still trying to compose yourself. “ Yeah, it was okay.”

“I think I��m cursed,” you complain to Asa and Maki in the girls’ toilets where you’ve taken refuge to touch up your makeup. “He was my first kiss, and my second one too. Next you’ll see him being the third one too!”

Asa giggles. “Ooh, I hope so!”

“Maybe he’s secretly in love with you, you never know,” interjects Maki, but you shake your head sadly. She rolls her eyes, closing the tube of mascara. “Stop acting like a pathetic puppy,” she chides. “It’s okayyyyy.”

You don’t answer, busy swiping the applicator of your lipgloss across your lips.

“Um, I think I gotta pee, you guys go back without me,” you say. Your voice is too loud, too high-pitched. It’s obvious that you have other reasons for wanting to come out later. There’s an awkward silence, and you’re not quite sure what to expect. Will they refuse and Call you out? Anxiety bubbles up inside you. But Asa and Maki are your best friends, after all. You can see in their eyes that they don’t buy it at all – they pretend to, though, and leave you alone in the restrooms to rot alone with your thoughts.

When you finally get the guts to exit the toilet, you find yourself standing behind Asa. She’s asking Sae how much longer the two of you will be staying, and hasn’t seemed to notice you behind her yet. Sae does, though, raising one perfect brow ever so slightly. Asa continues talking, unaware of the silent conversation going on between the two of you. Sae tilts his head to one side, as if asking a question; you shake your head vehemently in return, hoping he understands what you’re trying to convey.

“We’ll get going as soon as y/n comes back,” says Sae. You breathe a sigh of relief; how could you possibly have doubted him? He’s known you since you were what, five years old – longer than anyone else in the room, even Maki and Asa.

“But it’s barely eight,” Asa argues, but he shakes his head.

“Her parents said eight thirty tops,” he shrugs. Sae is an impeccable liar. Before Asa can say anything else, you interrupt them.

“ Sae, we gotta go.”

“Yeah,” he says. “See? Later, Asa.”

“Bye Asa!”

She waves goodbye as the two of you leave the gym.

The school looks completely different at night, dimly lit with countless locked doors on either side of you, and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get lost. Sae watches you standing uneasily by a window, face lit up almost ethereally by the moonlight that’s streaming in. You don’t notice him staring as you gaze distractedly out of the window silently. You really are pretty.

He doesn’t realize when he walks over to stand beside you wordlessly. You tear your eyes away from the world outside and turn to him. “You need anything?”

He shakes his head. “Not really.”

His voice is lower than usual, barely above a whisper, and suddenly the air is thick with tension. He hears you breathe in, sharp and fast, as your gaze flickers from his eyes, to his lips, then back to his eyes again. He can’t blame you, not when he’s doing the same thing. Sae takes a single carefully calculated step forward, and before he can move another muscle, you step forward too, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down to kiss him. He’s startled at your boldness – he hadn’t expected you to initiate anything – but it’s a nice surprise. It takes a moment for him to regain his senses before he kisses you back with equal fervor, large hands coming up to cradle your face. He feels you sigh softly into his mouth, fists tightening around the fabric of his jacket. What had Asa mentioned again– oh. So this is your first real kiss – not one that’s part of a game, not one that’s being used to just prove a point. Your stupid strawberry lipgloss smears across your mouth and his, and it tastes good, and you taste good, and so what if a tiny part of him doesn’t want this to ever end?

But then the two of you separate, and you’re probably the most beautiful girl he’s seen in his entire life. You’re panting slightly from the lack of oxygen, chest heaving gently. Your lips are parted a little, slick with a mix of lipgloss and saliva, and you’re watching him with widened eyes. He’s not sure what to do now, but suddenly you take a step back, and then another, and another. You shake your head. “This was a mistake, Sae. I’m not gonna become another one of your disposable girlfriends.”

Sae doesn’t know what to say. In fact, he doesn’t even have anything to say at all. No excuses, no defenses. You are probably right after all. Though he may be an expert at starting relationships, he certainly fails to keep them alive – not that he cares to, in the first place. And soccer is always more important anyways. So he stays silent, watching you hurry away into the dark.

He hopes you won’t get lost this time.

School starts a week later, a day after your sixteenth birthday. You’re almost relieved to see that Sae has gone back to ignoring you. [he hasn’t wished you a happy birthday.] You play it off to your friends as him just being busy again, but you know that’s not true. And he already has another girl hanging off his arm again, and although you’re unsurprised, it still hurts after that night, when he’d kissed you like you actually meant something to him. You know you don’t, though. Not in the way other things matter to him – soccer, for example. Or getting girls.

It’s painful to even look at him now; it’s annoying how fast your views of him have changed. It also doesn’t help that he glances towards you every now and then. Whatever, you think. Fuck him. You need to focus on your classwork instead. Or more specifically, the project that’ll make up a significant portion of your grade and act as a replacement for your finals. Unfortunately for you, it’s a partnered project, meaning you won’t be able to work as efficiently – you’re in your element when you’re working alone. Half the class has already been paired up by the time your name is called. You scan the remaining people for Asa or Maki, hoping you get one of them as a partner, but your peace is shattered as your teacher calls out a name that you’ve grown to dislike, no, fear over the past week. “Sae Itoshi!”

Sae’s face is painfully neutral, betraying absolutely no emotion. You don’t know whether he even cares about this – he probably doesn’t – but it’s still an important project, so all you can do is suck it up and work. He walks up to you, face still annoyingly blank. “You have my number, right?”

What happened to hello? How are you? You nod anyways, unsure of what he wants.

“Call me then,” he says flatly. “I’ll do whatever as long as you arrange the time and place.”

What a bitch. You want to slap him.

“Okay.”

It’s not okay.

Every time you’re even near him, all you can think of is his lips on yours; the feel of his hands on your waist, your face. You don’t want anything to do with him, let alone spend the next two weeks working on this stupid project with him.

That night, you scream at yourself in the mirror. Why can’t you just be normal? These things happen, it’s not a big deal. You spend half an hour pacing around the bathroom, raving to yourself like a madman. It takes another hour before you calm down enough to be able to text him.

You: hey

You: this is y/n btw

Sae: ok

You: you told me to arrange everything

Sae: yea

You: i’m free tmr after school. At like 3

Sae: i have practice

You: dude skip out on practice once nothing will happen

Sae: no

y/n: ur literally a prodigy..

Sae: and?

y/n: okay yk what?

y/n: you set everything up then idc

Sae: wtf okay

Sae: 3pms okay

Sae: your place or mine

The first time the two of you meet up, time passes slowly but uneventfully. It’s at your house; the two of you have decided to alternate until the project is done. It doesn’t really matter, though, considering how close you live to each other It takes you almost six hours to perfect the outline, and you’re fucking exhausted by the end of the day. Even Sae doesn’t have any energy in him to spit out any witty remarks until he’s leaving. He shoves his things into his backpack messily. Usually, everything that belongs to him is neat and immaculate, so this goes to show just how much the day has worn him out. But it appears to have reduced the tension between you two as well. [Not that you care.] At the door, he turns back to you. “Fuck you for choosing the most complicated topic just for some extra credit,” he grumbles.

You scoff, even though you know he’s not being serious.

“Fuck you too, Sae Itoshi.” you call.

He raises up one hand to flip you off behind him as he walks off.

You think you hear him laugh.

The second day of the project is spent at Sae’s place. It’s a Saturday, and he forces you to wake up nice and early so the two of you can start working on the project as fast as possible.

“The faster we start, the faster we finish,” he says.

Sae is infinitely more comfortable in his own house, body draped over one of the many sofas in the living room as he types on his laptop. You’re sitting on the floor, on top of a large piece of paper that you’re decorating. This project is such a pain in the ass. The air conditioner is on full blast, but for some reason you’re still feeling kind of feverish. Sae, on the other hand, seems to be living his best life in a tight black t-shirt and light gray sweats that hang annoyingly low on his hips – it’s a simple yet devastatingly distracting outfit, and you can barely focus.

Sooner or later, the two of you find yourselves in the kitchen looking for something to eat. Sae bends down to rifle through the fridge while you seat yourself on one of the high stools around the kitchen counter. Your legs hang in the air, and suddenly you feel very small. But more and more loud noises come from the fridge as Sae curses and throws an empty box behind him; you take this moment to shamelessly ogle his turned back. He straightens up again a moment later, and you rip your eyes away and look down at the counter. Just in time too, because he turns around, slamming the door shut.

“That little shit Rin finished everything good here,” he grumbles, stretching. You have to force yourself to look away from him and the way his shirt rides up to reveal perfectly sculpted abs. He turns to one of the cabinets instead, pulling out a container instead. Opening it up, he sticks one hand inside, pulling out a chocolate chip cookie. Then he holds it out to you. “Want some?”

You nod in assent.

Sae finishes eating before you, but he doesn’t leave the kitchen as you steadily work through the pile of cookies on your plate. It’s not exactly awkward, but he’s slouched against the marble of the kitchen counter, chin resting on one hand as he watches you eat. His pretty teal gaze follows your every movement, yet his face remains completely passive.

You help him wash up after you finish, even though there’s not a lot to clean. But then, as you turn around to leave the kitchen, Sae moves too, and suddenly you’re standing with your front all but pressed up against his. You move to one side to give him space to pass, but apparently he has the same idea at the exact same time. You move to the other side, and so does he. The double coincidence makes you giggle, and pulls a chuckle from him too. But the atmosphere shifts in a way that’s all too familiar, and the pit in your stomach reopens, and you swallow, looking up at Sae. He stares back at you, nonchalant, and before you can say anything or get yourself out of this situation, he speaks. “I want to kiss you again.”

His voice is controlled, toneless. But his eyes, the ones you’ve known for over nine years right now, betray his true feelings. He’s really not as unbothered as he’s trying to appear; a steady fire of something you can’t identify burns in his eyes.

You want to say no. You know that’s the smarter option here. You know you’ll only get hurt more if you let it – or whatever this is – continue like this. The path that you’re walking is already doomed, you can see where the road ends, fades into nothing but pain and suffering. But you’re young, and you’re stupid. And you like Sae Itoshi way more than you should. So you shrug. “Sure.”

Sae cups your face with one hand, adjusting your positioning slightly before he leans down to kiss you. This time, along with the anxiety, there’s also something in you that yearns and yearns. The second or two before Sae kisses you feels like an hour at the least; something almost akin to relief floods through your veins when he finally does.

It’s as if your world shifts as he kisses you again, slow and languid. Or at least, that’s how it starts. In a matter of seconds it turns into something more zealous, all tongue and teeth. Your hands instinctively fly up to tangle into his messy hair as he picks you up effortlessly with one hand and places you atop the kitchen counter. You gasp into his mouth in surprise at the sudden movement, and it draws a low chuckle from him before he pulls away infinitesimally. You’re confused; is it ending already? You don’t want it to end. And it’s as if Sae reads your mind.

“Calm down, pretty,” he pants, eyes wide and pupils blown out. He smirks against your lips, smug, confident. “It’s just a breather, I’ll kiss you again, don’t worry.”

You roll your eyes, and Sae kisses you again; you can feel the way his lips curve up. He feels you loop your arms around his neck, somehow pulling him even closer to you, and he maneuvers one of your legs so it’s hooked around his hip. You seem to get the message, wrapping your legs around his waist. Sae hums into your mouth in approval, dragging a thumb across your cheekbone slowly, lips still against yours. He knows all of this is still more or less new to you, considering the fact that everything you’ve experienced has been with Sae, but it’s obvious that you’re growing more and more used to it by the second.

He doesn’t taste the lipgloss this time; he almost misses it – both the taste, and the way it smudges across your lips so prettily.

The taste of him intoxicates you, leaving you in a drunken stupor where he’s the only thing you can focus on. His every touch leaves a trail of fire in its wake across your body.

But heaven on earth always comes to an end, one way or the other. You’re both oh-so wrapped up in everything going on when Sae suddenly pulls away. You lean back from him, confused. “Sae, what’s wrong?”

“Just, just gimme a sec,” he rasps. His voice is low, husky from the kissing, and he’s somewhat short of breath. “I’m not looking for a relationship or anything. I don’t know why I did it, I broke up with Kaori like a week ago.”

“I know,” you reply matter-of-factly. “Like I give a fuck.”

And then you kiss him again.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupts the two of you, and you both turn your heads to look at it simultaneously. It’s an unknown number; he cuts the call, cursing, and turns back to you. But your eyes are widened in disbelief as you stare at the clock on his lockscreen. “Sae, it’s been almost an hour since we came here!”

“No way,” he says. There’s a note of mild surprise in his voice as he checks for himself.

“We have to get back to work,” you tell him.

“Whatever, five more minutes?”

You shake your head, finally leaving the kitchen. Now that the haze you’d been lost in has finally cleared, the magnitude of just how badly you’ve fucked all this up has begun to really sink in. Sae is much more composed than you – like he didn’t just spend the last thirty-ish minutes making out with you on his kitchen counter.

The two sides of you are fighting, clawing, tearing each other apart. One side wraps around you protectively, trying to keep your heart safe. To keep you safe. Stay away from him, it screams. You’ll only get hurt. The other side wants him – wants him so badly. He has you addicted with a singular touch; your body needs this, craves him.

And you hate how he’s perfectly fine about all this.

Spoiler alert: he isn’t. Although his face doesn’t betray it, he has been thinking.

That evening, before you leave, he asks you a question.

“What are we?”

You pause. “You said you’re not, y’know…”

“Yeah.” he’s selfish; he knows that you’re into him at least a little bit. [or a lot, considering how the last few days have been.] “What do you wanna do?”

This is the last moment you can turn back, save yourself. But you only live once, right? Might as well do it for the plot. “We can keep it like this, I don’t mind.”

Sae watches you touch up your makeup before you leave. You work calm and methodically – mascara, lipstick, that damned strawberry lipgloss. “y/n.”

You move your gaze from your compact mirror to him. Damn, you’re pretty. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he says, from the couch.

You don’t say no as you take your shoes off again.

You reapply your lipgloss again half an hour later, on the way home.

The project is completed much earlier than expected. If you’re being honest, though, you should have expected this, considering the two of you spend most of every day at each others’ places now anyways. You’ve always hated having rich, absent parents, but it doesn’t seem half as bad now. Not when Sae’s hand sits so comfortably on your waist, chin resting atop yours as he takes a photo of the finished piece. It’s like you’re two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly, that are meant to be. You wish it was meant to be.

You and Sae have been pretty good at keeping things under wraps, especially when you can barely keep your hands off each other. Ever since you okayed the relationship-not-relationship, it’s as if things have automatically upped a notch. And even then, you barely text, unless it’s about meeting up in secluded corners and empty parking lots, where Sae kisses you silly, until you can’t breathe and his sharp teal gaze is unfocused and glazed over. Sae chases you the way he chases every goal on the field, focused on you and only you, ruthless, mindless of everyone else until he has you right where he wants you, with unbuttoned shirts and loosened ties and roaming hands that grab collars and venture daringly underneath clothes without ever crossing that invisible line. In the past few weeks, for example, you’ve felt up Sae’s abs way more than you’re going to admit; you’ve lost count by now anyways, but you know you’d never go farther. [you never started.]

When Sae Itoshi truly puts his mind to it, he is an emphatic lover. Between days of stolen kisses and fleeting touches and nights where you sneak out to meet him like he’s your boyfriend, time passes fast. Your favorite drink sits at one corner of your desk every day at school, and sometimes people ask if you’re dating someone. You shake your head no, but it still is a pleasant surprise every day, you tell people. It’s most definitely not Sae, especially when he’s slightly late to school every day after his early morning soccer practice.

In his own classroom down the hall, Rin’s lips quirk up into a subtle smile.

Sixteen turns into seventeen in the blink of an eye.

Sae’s slowly becoming more and more busy with soccer, and it’s not like you aren’t busy either. You barely see him now, except at schools and parties, both of which are less than ideal, considering the nature of your relationship. This doesn’t deter Sae, however, and you often find yourselves in empty rooms or the like, risking it all for a few kisses.

And then there’s the matter of his girlfriends. Because whether you like it or not, Sae has begun to date girls every now and then. They’re not serious relationships, just stupid flings that last a month or two. He never brings them up to you, and you never mention them either, unless you’re asking whether he’s done with them. He doesn’t tell you when exactly he starts dating someone new, but it’s obvious from how he pulls back and stops texting you at all. And then you see a new girl hanging off his arm at every party, and of course you’re jealous. Why wouldn’t you be? After all, it’s been five years since the first spark of anything you’ve felt for him came alive.

You’re the one constant in his life, though, other than soccer. Every time he’s done with another girlfriend, he comes straight back to you. Or you go back to him.

Sae: come over?

Sae: yeah yeah im done w her dont worry

y/n: okay

You never refuse him, overpowered by greed, trying to get as much of him to yourself as you can.

“Hey,” he greets you. His lips are already on yours before he’s closing the door. You don’t respond – how can you, given your position – but you smile into the kiss all the same. Sae is the closest you’ve ever had to a boyfriend. You have no interest in anyone outside him anyways. His parents are rarely home, and so are yours, so you often end up spending nights at each others’ places. It’s nothing sexual; you’d just rather not be alone. There’s a drawer of Sae’s things in your room, and he knows – and you know he knows – that you wear them occasionally. You always deny it, but he encourages it with a sly smile. “Better you than anyone else,” he says. It makes you feel special. Even his girlfriends don’t get that treatment. But that’s before you sleep over at Sae’s. Once you start staying over, his clothes are basically at your disposal. You steal his button ups, his t-shirts, his shorts. And the best part is, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. All he does is grin at you lazily while he shamelessly checks you out. “You look good, pretty girl.”

He laughs at the way the pet name startles you.

Seventeen is also when your life falls apart.

Sae shows up unannounced one night at your door, with a bouquet, a gift bag and an envelope. You haven’t seen him in a while. He’s been busy with some sort of tryouts, you’re not really sure. He hands the bag and flowers to you watching you toss the bouquet onto a couch and turn to the bag. You take out a small velvet box. It looks expensive. Inside, there’s a simple gold necklace with a heart-shaped locket. Your eyes widen. “Sae, what is this? How much did it–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. His usually dispassionate face seems almost sad. “Just a present for my favorite girl.”

Sae has never been a verbal person with you. In the last two years, he’s only ever made his thoughts clear through his actions – never his words. This is new, and for some reason, it scares you. “But why?”

“It’s my way of saying goodbye,” he admits. Your heart drops.

“What?”

He hands you the envelope next, and your eyes frantically skim through the document until you finish; he’s been chosen to go to Spain and train under that one soccer team he’s always talked about. You look up with wide eyes. “Sae, I’m so happy for you!”

He smiles, albeit melancholically. “I knew you’d be. But there’s also… us.”

You’re confused. “Huh? Us?”

He nods. “Whatever we’re doing right now – I can’t continue it. Not like this, over texts, with the time difference and everything. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your heart shatters into a million pieces, but you don’t want to feel any of this. Because even though you’re losing him right now, he was never yours in the first place – and you were never his. And you’d known this from the start; anticipated it even. There’d been a small part of you that had hoped, of course, that things would go a different route, but it had been set in stone all along. You take a deep breath. “Okay, Sae Itoshi, what do you wanna do?”

The corners of his lips twitch at the use of his full name, even as he tries to remain serious. “I don’t know, y/n l/n, what do I wanna do?”

Stuffing the envelope back into his hoodie pocket, he cradles your face softly with both hands, like you’re fragile. Weird. He’s never done anything like this, especially not almost-in-public. He’s always been careful, trying not to get caught. And he has kept this hidden for almost two years now, so you can’t exactly complain. You grab his wrists with both of your hands, pulling him into your house. You lock the door carefully, but you don’t notice the girl at the corner of the street. The one with a wicked little smile on her face, as she clicks yet another incriminating picture of you and Sae, damning evidence of the stupid not-relationship the two of you have kept hidden for so long.

“Do me,” you snicker as soon as you make sure the door is locked. It’s not your usual humor, not with Sae, anyways, but you’re too absorbed in your thoughts, trying to hide the intense pain you’re feeling right now. You hope it doesn’t show on your face.

Sae raises one eyebrow, arms crossed in front of him. “Come again?”

“Nothing,” you say. “C’mere, help me put this on.”

He follows you to your room like a sad puppy, waiting silently as you turn the lights on and stand in front of the mirror. He takes the necklace from your hands, fastening it around your neck. You fix the positioning of the locket; the metal is cool against your skin that’s heated up from the brush of his fingers on the nape of your neck. Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and the silence is strained, awkward even, unlike anything you’ve experienced with him before.

“So, when are you leaving?” you ask him.

“Tomorrow.”

Oh. So that’s why it’s goodbye. Of course. [You want to die.] Instead, you turn to him, hoping your face doesn’t betray your emotions. “How long are you staying here?”

“How long do you want me to?”

“When’s your flight?”

“Stop asking me questions,” he huffs. “Eight, I think.”

You open your mouth to ask another question.

“AM, eight in the morning,” he says, hands raised in surrender. “Now will you stop?”

“Let’s watch a movie,” you tell him, ignoring the second statement. “Then you can go home, I guess.”

“You guess? What, you wanna keep me here forever?” he means it as a joke, but you hum in agreement.

“Sure.”

He pulls one of your drawers open, taking out two sets of clothing. He chucks one at you with a grin. “Go change, stupid. Get comfortable.”

“Oh,” you say. “You have to take all this back, right?”

“Nah,” he responds carelessly. “I don’t. Keep ‘em, throw ‘em out for all I care.”

You change in the bathroom, giving him space to do the same in your room. But when you come out after giving him sufficient time to finish – he’s always been quick in every way – he hasn’t changed, standing with his back to you while talking on the phone in only his boxers. You wait for him to finish, patiently staring at his back until he finishes. He notices your presence almost as soon as the call ends, turning around to face you. “What?”

“Nice ass, Itoshi,” you grin.

He narrows his eyes at you. “For real, y/n?”

You don’t answer, instead busying yourself with fixing up your bed while he gets dressed. When your bed looks okay enough for your [arguably low] standards, you turn back to Sae, who’s still very much shirtless. He holds his t-shirt in front of him, staring at it skeptically.

“The fuck, Sae? Put your clothes on!”

“It’s hot tonight,” he complains. “Can’t I go without?”

In all those nights of staying over, he’s never done that before. If it had been anyone else you’d probably have said no. But it is Sae asking, and when have you ever said no to him? You make a show of thinking it over, but your mind has already said yes.

You start off at separate sides of the bed – you always do. This time, though, you don’t really concentrate on the movie as much as you should. Sneaking looks at Sae Itoshi’s lean, yet defined and extremely attractive body is much more fun anyways. When you’re about halfway through the stupid, sappy rom-com you’re watching, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your middle before Sae pulls you into himself. Your terrified shriek turns into a groan as you turn over to smack him in annoyance. “Maybe ask next time!”

Sae shakes his head, burying his face in your hair. Humming appreciatively, he pulls the hem of your [his] loose t-shirt up just enough to be able to wrap his arms around your bare middle. He turns back to the movie, but you’re stuck in contemplative thought. This is all new; he’s never actively done anything like it during any of your countless movie nights – if they can even be called that, considering the majority of them are interrupted by him initiating something or vice versa – and he’s always waited for the two of you to slowly come closer to each other rather than pull you to him, like tonight. He’s acting like what you'd expect a real boyfriend to act like, and suddenly your insides lurch, and once again the gravity of the situation hits you.

You’ve never really minded being Sae’s little secret, someone he comes back to when he’s tired of school and soccer and his girlfriends. It makes you feel like you’re kind of a safe space for him, where he’s not afraid to be soft or tired or imperfect. Of course, he’ll always be perfect in your eyes, anyways. But it hurts like hell now, when he acts like he’s yours, buying you expensive shit, calling you his favorite girl – who even does that? You’re already thinking of giving the necklace away, because how can you live with something like it, when he’s the one giving it to you, his “favorite girl”, when he’s not even your boyfriend. And even then, you’ve managed to somehow fall in love with him.

It’s so fucked – you’re so fucked.

Sae seems oblivious to your troubled thoughts, hands busied with toying with your necklace.

“This looks pretty on you,” he murmurs, and you want to throw up. You can’t take it anymore; you want to forget it, forget him, forget every compliment that he’s handed you today like some sort of indirect apology. Another second of all this, and you might just cry. You need him to shut the fuck up, and the easiest way to do that is–

“Sae, wanna make out?”

He never says no to you, either.

Sae leaves like a shadow in the night; he kisses you goodbye and whispers something that sounds suspiciously like “I’msorryIloveyou” before he pulls away. But he’s Sae, he would never say that. And even while breaking your heart into pieces with his bare hands, slow and deliberate, he still has the audacity to look so devastatingly beautiful while doing it. And you still can’t hate him. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to. It’s maybe two in the morning when you stand at the door waiting for him to leave – you’re not sure because one moment you’re falling asleep, and the next he’s waking you up, cursing, running late. He still needs to pack half his stuff. You’re startled out of your sleep when you hear that; is he fucking stupid? Who leaves that for the last few hours?

But you digress.

You haven’t bothered to turn the lights on, knowing that you'll probably just go back to bed and cry. Maybe grab some ice cream from the kitchen on your way. Not that it matters. Sae’s changed back into his normal clothes again. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he stops. Stepping out of your house for the last time in who knows when, he turns back. You both speak at the same time.

“y/n.”

“Sae.”

“You go first,” he says.

“How long will you be, um, gone?” you ask. You’re aware your voice is shaky. Your lower lip trembles, and you bite down on it to stop. You’re going to cry – you don’t want to, not in front of him.

“Two years,” he replies sheepishly. “Give or take.”

Two–

“I won’t have my phone, or anything,” he continues, unprompted. “So…”

“Yeah, I get it,” you say.

“Yeah.”

“What were you gonna say?” you ask. You’d almost forgotten.

“Oh,” he seems shy, all of a sudden. The cocky, confident, arrogant, brash Sae Itoshi, acting like this in front of you? Something’s definitely up. “Oh.”

“Hm?”

“I’ll miss you,” he says at last.

He watches your face carefully: the way it moves, the way your expression changes, the way the tiniest spasm of pain flits across it before it goes back to whatever facade you’ve been maintaining carefully ever since he came over today. You don’t say anything back, but god you’re beautiful. Even in your [his] ugly, oversized clothes and with your messy hair, you look absolutely enchanting, angelic features illuminated by the silvery moonlight. Suddenly he’s transported back to a certain evening almost two years ago, with you in a shimmery blue dress, standing by a window. You in that same blue dress, kissing him like your life depended on it. You–

“You should go,” you say shakily. I’ll miss you too, Sae. So much. You don’t even know.

“I should.” He doesn’t want to.

[You don’t see Sae Itoshi again until you’re on a cruise ship, celebrating your nineteenth birthday.]

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h0neylevi · 3 days

Text

post-war, canonverse, semi-public sex, fingering, fem!reader, some light degradation, dry humping, MDNI

w/c: ~ 1630

Everything has been so new lately.

Moving to Marley after the war had been an easy decision, but that didn’t mean the physical act of settling into a new place wasn’t without its hurdles. Mostly, it was about adjusting—getting used to the advances in technology that wasn’t present on Paradis. Telephones, cars, radios, even electric stoves were commonplace things that Levi still marveled at.

And then, there was also you.

More specifically, the way you’d both found yourselves quite suddenly thrust into a life after war, a life without titans and the looming threat of death hanging over your heads like a dense fog.

As former comrades, it only made sense once the smoke cleared to navigate this new world together. And Levi was more than happy to experience all manner of firsts at your side.

It’s through this different layer of companionship that Levi learns so many new things about you. How you like your eggs in the morning, how tired you get after having too much pasta, the way the hair at the back of your head always sticks up the next day if you go to sleep with it still wet. He learns how you organize your books on your shelves (by size) and how when you’re having a bad day and tell him to leave you alone, you don’t actually mean it.

He’s always known how to make you laugh, but after eight months of living together under the same roof, he learns how to make you moan. It’s a sound he’d like to bottle forever, the sight of your body arched beneath him a vision too precious to look away for even a second. Even with only one good eye, he soaks it in like you’re a dream that’ll fade if he blinks.

He learns that he likes kissing, and you do too. So, when you lean across the center console of his brand new car at Marley’s drive-in movie theater one summer night, he doesn’t think much of it. At least, not until your hands start wandering and he finds himself pulled into the backseat.

You give him very little time to recover from the surprise of being pulled from his seat before your lips are on his again. The leather of the upholstery groans as you straddle his narrow waist and on instinct, Levi reaches out, eyes still closed as he guides you onto his lap.

His palm splays over the skirt of your dress, hiking it up a little in his haste. When he feels the fabric, he pulls away slightly.

He gently squeezes your thigh, watching the cloth bunch a little in his grasp. The sound of your breath hitching in your throat makes him look up. “What’s got you so worked up, hm?”

Above him, forming words feels borderline impossible. Not while his thumb is drawing circles on the inside of your thigh and he’s looking up at you through those delightfully full lashes. It strikes you that this facet of your relationship is still relatively new, so the warmth on your cheeks doesn’t feel out of place when you swallow around your meekness and say, “You.”

“Me?” Levi’s brows raise, but he thinks he gets it. The moment you’d walked out of your room in this little number, his mind had gone straight to the gutter.

Like he’s revisiting the memory, his hands begin to slowly trail every part of you his eyes drift over—thumbs tracing the tantalizing curve of your breasts, down the silky material over your waist before resting his palms on your hips. When he gives you another subtle squeeze, you roll against him, feeling the hardening outline of his cock through his trousers against your core.

“Can’t help it,” you breathe out slowly, like you're making every effort to remain composed, but the strain in your voice betrays the neediness beneath.

Your palms drift over the soft fabric of his shirt, moving over firm muscle. They’re not as defined as they once were, but you relish in his solid warmth all the same. Enamored by him, always.

He lets you explore unimpeded. You’ve always been handsy—checking him for signs of injury or illness when he inevitably pushed himself too far during expeditions. Now he’s grown used to the way that protective tendency has turned into an act of appreciation and fondness. It makes something light and airy form in his chest when you lean down again to kiss him.

“These windows aren’t tinted,” he says a moment later. The warning is half-hearted and murmured mostly against your lips, in conflict with the way his hands keep you anchored where you are.

His feeble hesitation makes you laugh.

You settle further into his lap, nearly chest to chest now. You can feel the way his breathing has grown labored against you. “No one’s looking at us, Levi.”

It is dark, at least. He has enough sense still to acknowledge that the large screen up front will be capturing most peoples’ attention, even though it’s currently in an intermission right now. There are only fifteen minutes between the double features tonight. A shame, he thinks. When it comes to you especially, he always likes to take his time.

You move your attention to the curve of his jaw, peppering hot, pillowy kisses down the expanse of his neck before suckling the sensitive flesh of his clavicle, and every thought not focused on the present stops.

He closes his eyes, caught between the feeling of your lips on his neck and your warm cunt gliding over his cockhead. Even through several layers of clothes, pleasure rushes through him with each rut of your hips. You’re so warm and pretty that it’s dizzying.

In retaliation, a thumb swipes over your clothed clit, and Levi smirks when your movements almost completely stop. Behind you, the large screen lights up and Levi watches in the soft blue light as you lean back slightly, mouth slightly agape in a silent gasp.

“Never took you for an exhibitionist,” he says, the reflection of the movie behind you mirrored in his unclouded iris.

Before you can say anything, he hooks two fingers around your panties and pulls them to the side, sliding the digits through the arousal that’s already beginning to soak into the cotton.

“I-I’m not,” you attempt to defend, but the protest comes out weak and shaky with his movements.

“Is that right?” Levi asks, his tone mildly condescending. “Well, the fact that you’re grinding on top of me right now says otherwise.”

The pressure of his fingers on your cunt makes it difficult to think. If you were in your right mind, you might be embarrassed about the way the windows have started to fog, but you can only be grateful for the extra coverage.

The air is thick and your body feels like it’s on fire. Every brush of Levi’s fingers on your skin sends you aflame. His injured hand anchors you in place, thumb rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your hip while his other hand continues to pick you apart, making your knees quiver.

Your voice is a strained gasp against the shell of his ear. “Like you’re not hard already just from kissing.”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

The hand on your hip lowers, and for a moment you think he’s gesturing for you to get up, but the new position allows his other hand to slide down. Two fingers quickly bottom out inside your cunt.

Your features pinch with the effort it takes to keep yourself quiet.

“There you go,” Levi coos, smug as your fingers struggle for purchase on his shoulders. “Is that what you wanted?”

His cock, his fingers, his mouth. All three. You want to tell him that you’d gladly take anything he’d give you, but all you can do is pant uselessly into his neck and try to hold on.

“Couldn’t wait until we got home, hm?” Levi continues, his fingers pumping and curling in such a way to make you see stars in your vision. “Needy thing.”

You clench around him, spurred on by his words. “Levi.”

He keeps talking, undeterred. A glow appears in his eyes as you rock into his palm, meeting his movements. “Dirty girl, fucking my fingers like this in the open.”

Pleasure coils in your belly. You grasp helplessly against his sturdy neck, cheeks burning and nails dragging over the soft fuzz of his undercut as it continues to build and build. The pressure of his thumb on your clit pulls all of your muscles taut.

When your moans become wispy and delicate gasps of air, he knows you’re right on the edge.

“Let go, sweetheart,” Levi murmurs. “You can come.”

Your orgasm hits you like a train. With a single gasp of his name, you come undone. Levi holds you through it as you shudder and spasm, his free arm now wrapped around your waist.

When you pull back, your eyes are bleary and content. Every muscle in your body seems to relax against him.

Levi pulls his hand from between your legs. “Satisfied?”

“Mmm,” is all you can manage. The aftershocks still continue to wash over you, making you feel boneless and tired.

When they subside, you give him a quick peck and slide off of his lap, climbing back into the front passenger seat.

Levi follows with a grunt. When he settles back into the driver’s seat, he buckles his seatbelt and starts the car.

You turn, confused. “What are you doing? The movie isn’t over.”

Slowly, he eases out of the parking spot toward the exit. Just before he turns onto the road, he gives you an incredulous look.

“You think I can focus on anything else after that?” From the streetlight above, you can finally see the deep shade of pink tinting his neck and face. “I’m taking you home so I can really make you scream.”

#levi ackerman smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #post war levi #levi ackerman #aot fic #levi drabble #not sfw

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chaosandmarigolds · 1 day

Text

Cabin

(the timeline is a lil weird in this so just go for the vibes, Pre-K verse. Fem!reader)

Based off this AWESOME ASK! so here's my lil take on it <3

“Think ‘m dyin.”

“You’re fine.”

”UGH- oi, th’ light- oi, Beth? That you? callin me, LT, they callin me.”

Simon doesn’t bother to look up from the tablet to his wounded comrade, who would be alright with some TLC and a long night’s sleep. Currently, he was trying to find somewhere they could all rest, somewhere safe, which seemed to be an easy task- as he knew this forest like the back of his hand. (After living in a town not even ten miles away for close to seven years) Not to mention, he happened to know where there was a cabin, which should be empty.

Technically it wasn’t his cabin, it had been your brother however when your brother moved he left it to you. And since it was the middle of the summer and the cabin didn’t have AC, Simon assumed you were most likely happily sitting at home with the kids, on an air-conditioned covered porch.

With that in mind, he made his decision to lead his team towards the cabin. It would be a bit of a trek, but it was the best option they had, it wasn’t far from where they had to leave the truck- the mission had been odd, just to accompany some international weapons dealer, and since they were the closest they had been assigned. Long- story short, it went to hell and they somehow made it back in one piece. They had to wait for pickup, to be treated, and then for the debrief, so he couldn’t quite just go home, though he wanted to.

“Since when do ya own real estate?” Kyle remarked as they approached the cabin, lit up by their flashlights and the moon that hung, he had gotten out with a broken rib and a graze on the arm- luckily he didn’t fall from any high places this time. It was a quaint thing, made of wood with a cute chimney, and a nice porch. A big red garage not too far away from it and a dirt path leading to the neat porch.

“Not mine.” Simon replied bluntly back, handing his backpack to Kyle, and then told them he would grab some emergency packs and the first aid kit from the garage. With one flashlight tucked under his arm, he went around the back of the garage while the rest went into the cabin, as he also told them the spare key was under the chair leg. He remembered building the garage, yet somehow he still would grumble about how loud the door was.

Normally the garage was barren, give or take the Christmas decorations you would have him store in there, a rack with his tools and weapons. As well a year’s worth of rations, and camping gear, both mundane and survival- to put it simply it had everything he would need if he simply needed to vanish for a while. Though he hadn’t needed to in a long moment, not since he met you and Ollie- and perhaps that could be summed up to he didn’t quite want to anymore, either way- he flipped on the flickering light expecting a vacant garage.

No. Instead, he found your car sitting in the darkness. He knew it was yours because only your car would have that dent he caused in the front fender. Within a millionth of a second everything began to make sense- you had said you had a project you were going to surprise him with, ‘take it off his shoulders’ as you gleefully had put it before he left. The air conditioning, you had taken on the task of installing the air conditioning while he was gone. Which meant you were in the cabin with Ollie and he just sent a team of men in there, armed.

All the same, he had taught you to fend for yourself, enough to where when he ran through the front door to the sight of a knife to Johnny’s neck and a panic-riddled fear within your eye. He wasn’t shocked by it. He quickly told Kyle to drop the gun, harshly at that, to which Johnny replied-

“WHA? Bonie’s go’ a knife-” “Simon?”

His eyes flash over to yours and almost out of habit, his hand went to take off the mask, to assure you, “S jus me, let Johnny go, baby. Jus me.”

“Oh my god,” You very quickly drop the weapon of opportunity and without much else warning you turn around on your heel to go down the hall, opening up the coat closet to pick up the three-year-old- who was still baffled on what was going on and why you told him to go hide.

All the while you were doing that Johnny very slowly looked back at Simon, a look of exasperation across his expression- because- well two things actually; he had technically seen the man’s face before, but never in good lighting and it wasn’t because Simon was trying to show his face it was more of a random moment post-OP. Secondly; “What do ya ‘ean ‘Baby?”

“ISTER RILEY!” The three-year-old shrieks with glee before any questions are asked and before any can be answered, the child in his blue dinosaur-themed PJs and his mob of hair messy from bed, yet he seemed as awake as one could be. Ollie tried to wiggle out of your grasp, failing so he frowned and looked to you, “Momma wan go ‘Ister Riley.”

You stand at the end of the hallway, beside the old couch and you look over the three men, one you happened to be in a relationship with, and the other two you had no earthly idea of their existence till two minutes before, where they rudely woke you up with clanking boots. You only glance the two over before returning your gaze to Simon, who is very slowly approaching his movements calculated, as if he knew a sudden movement would scare you. “Who…who are these people?”

“On my team, I didn’t know you would be ‘ere,” His voice was hushed, as if he didn’t want them to hear his words, as he got closer Ollie began to lean out of your grasp to move to him- and normally you would allow the transfer, yet not then. Which Simon was very aware of, “Needed somewhere to crash for the night, I didn’t know you ‘ere here. I wouldn’t have-”

Before he could finish his apologies, your voice was whispered through the silence, “You’re all bleeding, what? Do they not have medics? I thought- you told me you had people to take care of you.” Sure, you were very angry and more importantly scared, feeling unsafe in your own home and if not a bit betrayed, yet…for the moment you were willing to overlook that.

“Back at base, luv,” Simon was quick to reply, “Waiting for someone to ‘ick us up ‘n take us.”

You take a moment to process his words and you nod, “Johnny and Kyle?” Your husband very slowly nods, so you look back to the two beaten-up men, who were standing as if they were watching their best friend get yelled at by their parents. After a moment of breathing and slowing your heart rate you give a meek smile, “Hi, I’m sorry, that was a…well an awful introduction, I swear I’m nice.”

They were both quick to deny you being the guilty party, Kyle taking off the cap within a millisecond as he spoke, “No! We must’ve scared ya to death, completely rational reaction, Missus.”

Johnny nods and motions to Kyle as he adds on. Watching as Simon very carefully moves to stand behind you. He knew his best friend, and he somehow didn’t know of his secret wife- suspicions yes, yet he was tickled pink that he was correct. “Wha’ Gaz is sayin, you did not’in wrong, bonnie, fact o’ it is-”Ollie’s face crinkles as Johnny speaks and he moves his head to look back at Simon, seeing him from an upside-down view, “Ister Riley why does he talk weird?” As if on cue you move Ollie to sit happily in Simon’s arms and give a weak laugh to distract them both from your son’s rude question.

“Tea?”

—

“And Missus?” Kyle said after about ten minutes of silence, the night was peaceful, Ollie going from Simon to Johnny the entire night and asking about every question imaginable (”You fight bad people?””I do laddie.””Da’s so cool.”….”Wha’s your name?””Johnny.””Nuh-huh.””Nuh-huh?””Yea, ‘Ister Riley called ya someden different earlier.””Ah, Soap, tha’ my speical nickname.””SOAP??”) and you fussing about how crappy their medic was, they didn’t have one, and getting the first aid kits and clean clothes out, the night was oddly…pleasant.

Simon, who currently had a sleeping three-year-old against his chest, looks up from his tea and then clears his throat. “Wha’ bout her?”

Johnny had spent the last forty minutes thinking about it all, and he had figured out the timeline, or he thought so, so he looked to Simon- a look of pure shock and a little bit of mock upon his face, “Whatcha ‘ean ‘wha’ bout her? LT got a wife n kid ‘n we ‘ere nun wiser!”

“Tha was what I was hopin for,” Simon said dully in return, moving to stand up, an arm under the boy, and then giving you a soft smile as you came back from the garage, blankets in hand. “Gonna put Olls t’ bed.”

As your husband tells you what he was doing you give him a little nod and then set the blankets down on the couch, looking back to the very intimidating men, who were somewhat pleasant as you got to know them. “Unfortunately one of you will have to sleep on the floor. Si’s got a little cot thingy but I hate that thing so I will subject you to it. Trust me, the floor is better.”

Johnny laughs, “Nah we’ll jus cuddle on and we’ll be fine, Missus.”

“No, we will not.” Kyle deadpanned back, glaring at Johnny before looking back to you, “Thank you for opening your home.”

You smile at him, finding it easier to do so after a few hours, “Well after having to endure Ollie for hours it’s the least I could do.” It was a joke that they both caught onto, laughing lightly at it, though the air wasn’t stiff it was most definitely a bit awkward.

“Speakin of Ollie, is he-”

“Oh, he’s not Simons.” You quickly finish the thought, fully knowing that was going to be the question out of the Scotts mouth, then you clear your throat, walking to the kitchen as you spoke, “I mean- sorry, I met Simon when Ollie was about a year and a half old, my ex divorced me after Ollie was born and since he had been on deployment I didn- anyway sorry,” You wave your hand and grab your mug, “and Simon was volunteering at the school I worked at- for um, well John, you both know John of course- anyway, I needed a babysitter for Ollie and he offered and then…well the rest is history.”

“Ghost volunteering at a school?” Kyle echoed to clarify, “an the kids weren’t scared of him?”

“Terrified,” You reply, a laugh in your voice, “It was cute, he was cute, he’s good with kids, he won’t say he is but he is and oh lord, I…” A slight faltering and you shake your head, “Anyway, I’ll let you both sleep. You know where the bathroom is.”

With a few goodnights, you walk down the hall, leaning on the doorframe to the smaller room, which had a pull-down bed that had Ollie’s favorite racecar-themed blanket atop of it and a few select toys you had let him bring on the two-night trip. As you listened to the very faint conversation you stayed quiet, not wanting to ruin the moment between the father-figure and the boy.

“I like Misser Soap and Misser Kyle.”

“Mm, thos’ are my brother’s laddie, so ‘m sure they’re happy you like em.”

“If…if dey brother then- then they like Uncle Mark?”

“…Yeah, sorta like your Uncle Mark, alright, you get to sleep, yeah? Fore mum has both our hides.”

You move to stay in the hallway as Simon kisses the boy’s forehead and tells him goodnight for the billionth time, and you turn your head upward to look at him as he closes the door behind him. He looked tired if anything, so maybe you would wait for your scolding. Silence, as you had learned very quickly on within your relationship, was the cornerstone of who he was. Whatever you may want to be said he was already aware of, anything you wanted to be expressed he was already expressing in his own way. With that in mind you move to where he could easily wrap his arms around you, tucking you into what he felt was like a safe embrace.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Not scared of you, scared of what would happen without you.”

(annd yeah, that's all. Feedback, comments and all that mean so much to me <3)

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kissedsuns · 23 hours

Note

omg! i saw that ur requests are open so i was hoping you could do a cute blurb with max where him and the reader have adopted another cat together making them a full cat family if that makes sense lol! 🤍

i decided to turn him into a grumpy dog person at the beginning even though he is 100% a cat guy.. i hope that's still okay!

"you serious?" max tilts his head, confused, when you suggest adopting a cat.

it was no surprise that you found yourself often feeling lonely when max is racing. it’s his job, of course, but having some company around the house would be nice when you can't visit him on the track.

there’s a hopeful grin on your face as you look up at him. "come on, you'll love it!" you beam.

max is always straightforward and quite strict about making irrational purchases, a trait you often seem to struggle with personally.

he shakes his head, but there's something different this time. he doesn’t scrunch his nose or let out an annoyed sigh. instead, he sighs in defeat.

your smile widens when he finally says, "fine, let's buy a kitten."

you squeal with excitement, jumping up from the couch and giving him a big hug. he chuckles, wrapping his strong arms around you, eventually picking you up and tossing you back on the couch to cuddle.

the next day comes quickly, and when max arrives home from a meeting in the evening, he finds you knocked out on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, occasionally letting out soft snores.

something unusual is poking out of the blanket, so max moves closer to investigate. he steps back quickly when a small ball of fur emerges from your grasp, and the curious eyes of a tabby kitten meet his gaze.

even though max is usually a dog person, he can't resist the kitten. he scoops it up and sits next to your sleeping body on the couch. the kitten lets out soft meows, and max finds it almost impossible to contain the giddy smile that creeps onto his face.

a few minutes pass, and you finally wake from your nap. "max?" you squint, rubbing your eyes. "hey, you met pompom!" you smile tiredly, your voice still raspy.

max hums in response, not wanting to wake the kitten curled up on his lap.

you giggle at the sight of max holding the kitten, but he gently presses a finger to your lips. "shh, you'll wake her up," he whispers.

rolling your eyes playfully, you nestle your head on max’s lap, your face just inches from the sleeping kitty. the kitten lets out a tiny purr, snuggling closer to max.

max can't help but think it's the most precious thing, his eyes filled with affection as he looks down at you. your droopy eyes slowly begin to close. "night, max," you mumble, drifting back to sleep.

he chuckles softly, amazed at how you can wake up from a nap and immediately fall back asleep. he loves having you beside him, and the presence of the fluffy, soft kitten makes it even more perfect.

max gently strokes the kitten's fur, enjoying the quiet moment. "goodnight, sweetheart," he whispers, leaning back into the couch, feeling completely content.

the room is filled with a peaceful silence, broken only by the kitten's soft purrs and your steady breathing. max knows that this simple, cozy moment is one he'll cherish for a long time.

and maybe after all this time, he truly was a cat person.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen drabble

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quietwingsinthesky · 3 days

Text

every time i think im okay i remember that the echoes of clara across the doctor’s timeline didn’t know they were echoes. or. no, some of them did, i think, but the more clara gives of herself to save the doctor, the more she loses the sense of who she is. and that’s why some of the echoes just seem like clara, knowing why she’s there and what she’s there to do. and some of them, many of them, don’t. the ones eleven meets don’t. and how many of them didn’t know haunts me. how many of them died just out of sight of the doctor, for the doctor, alone, without knowing why.

#if i think about clara too long i get ill and need to lie down #everything about her makes sense forever actually i get why she’s like that. because she killed herself ten billion times all at once to #save the doctor. and the thing is he’d do the same for her. she doesn’t know it just yet but he will and he does.#something something. the doctor breaking diamond to dust with his bare hands. clara killing herself across space and time for him so many #times that no memory remains but the love that makes her save him. im going to throw up.#clara oswald

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ofbreathandflame · 1 day

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Wait actually, I lied, here’s another thought:

I think it’s interesting that Rhysand never does these personalized selfless things, similar to how we see with Tamlin. There are so many moments that we witness take initiatives of kindness divorced from how he feels romantically for Feyre, or even his own family. When he goes to bury the Fae, he actually doesn’t want Feyre to come along. And she doesn’t. It’s a moment of just pure kindness that begs nothing in return. Even though Tamlin views Feyre’s family as lacking, he still chooses to return there entire wealth, even before he’d even actually fallen in love for Feyre. He didn’t actually expect anything from her. When she doesn’t say ‘I love you,’ he lets her go, even a detriment to himself and even his court. He doesn’t prioritize his own happiness over hers, weirdly (and ironically enough, considering maf). Even the act of falling for her, he doesn’t rush, so much so that Feyre never really actually notices the direness of his situation.

It’s so weird how much he allows her to discover for herself. So much of their love-story is Feyre observing Tamlin - partially because Feyre’s first introduction is Tamlin, so it makes sense her observations are more poignant. This sounds so pro-Feylin, but like I just noticed that we rarely get moments like that with Feyre and Rhys that aren’t already pre-perceived for us. Tamlin, although he’s supposed to, doesn’t initially want anything to do with Feyre - he’s feelings are developed overtime. This comes at a change from Rhys who, the entire time we know him, seems to already have feelings for her. Feyre never has to *do* anything to have his affection. So much of Feyre’s narration in MaF is just what Rhys said a few chapters ago; she’s never coming to her own conclusions.

In comparison, every Rhys seemingly does always seems to benefit him to some extent. Or to impress Feyre. There are never these moments where Rhys earnestly grapples with people outside his immediate circle. There’s such an isolated mess about his character. I’ve never been able to put my finger on it but this seems like what I’ve been thinking. Tamlin often does things out of kindness that come to his detriment. He saves Feyre when he didn’t have to, he saves Rhys when he doesn’t have to; and these decisions don’t…benefit him. He does it because he has a journey and realizes this is the right thing to do. It’s so weird how’s he unintentionally an actual nuanced character simply because…he faces consequences

#anti sjm #anti rhysand #anti acosf #anti sjm: feylin #y’all i don’t ship it just an observation #anti feysand #anti sjm: tamlin

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logicallyblind · 16 hours

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Okay okay but consider possible batfam fic idea:

so Bruce is in an emergency justice league meeting that got called but because its taking place at night he has a comm on in his ear playing at a low volume because all of the batfam are out on patrol around gotham covering his patrol route for him and because you know B is a paranoid, overprotective fucker he just to make sure everything is going smoothly for his kids but he doesn’t plan on actually letting them know he’s tapped into their network because he can already hear the lecture from Dick about trusting them to take care of the city.

So he’s listening to them quietly while also paying attention to Clark talking about some alien diplomacy issue and his kids are YAPPING away about the stupidest shit to one another cause they don’t have B telling them off for ‘unprofessional unnecessary chatter while on patrol’ and you’re getting a mix of all the dynamics between them all and the longer the meeting is going on the more B’s eye is just TWITCHING because his Dad senses are just going hay wire and he is just here like ‘I cannot say anything in front of the league because they cannot know I have children cause I'm Batman and I work alone blah blah blah’, usual brooding, but Damian and Tim are squabbling with one another about a rescue that took place an hour ago and Dick is challenging Jason to a parkour contest and Steph is challenging the Riddler to a riddle off with riddles she made up and have no answer just to piss him off and his dad sense is just like an alarm going off and then he just cant take it anymore cause Duke (pretend he’s on nightshift to make up for the man down or smth idk shh) says something like ‘I'm going to do my book report in the morning Richard leave me be’ even though Bruce KNOWS he isn't going to do it in the morning, this has happened before they have an AGREEMENT, a CONTRACT god damn it but they don't know Bruce is listening to the comms Duke just goes something like “its fine B won't even find out!” and Bruce just LOSES it there and then and just presses his comm and goes “NO. No, stfu all of you I am taking charge here” and he just starts going off on them all for the different things they were whining about like

“No Signal, go and do your damn book report right now you are not going to be doing it in the morning you always say you will and you never wake up early enough to get it done so then you end up speed doing it in the car while nearly stress crying and I am cannot deal with that while running on 49 hours of no sleep so go and do it right this damn minute. I am TIRED, I am tired boy go. GO. I love you, goodnight.”

“N go and unload the damn dishwasher. I asked you four. FOUR days ago to do it and A is not coming home until next week please I am begging you I have been drinking my coffee out of bowls and a straw for days now. Thank you, I love you goodnight.”

“Red Robin. Put the coffee down. No- I know its in your hand I can feel it. I can feel it in my BONES child you cannot hide from me, down. Now. Good. Get a piece of fruit and go to bed. No I don't give a fuck if- no. I don't care if the pentagon has laughably easy security to bypass right now it has been over 72 hours since you closed your eyes I WILL call A I will, I’ll do it right now. I’m calling him right now- good okay goodnight. I’m sending Dick to check on you to make sure you’re actually sleep. I love you too goodnight”

“Robin I know you're there. Damn right go to bed, Titus can go with you yes you don't have to ask every night baby its going to be the same answer, I love you goodnight.”

“Hood and Spoiler stop trying to goad rogues into fighting each other and go home. Hood will you- thank you. Goodnight I love you both....no S I will not ask Ivy if she’ll make you real life lil shop of horrors plant to leave at your ex’s house please stop asking. Goodnight.”

"C are you- I love you too."

And he just lets out this enormous, patented Dad sigh and looks up after a few moments and realizes the entire justice league is just watching him absolutely GOBSMACKED because oh my god how long has this been going on for?? because like what the fuck this was cold, calculated, ‘they think he's actually a robot’ Batman, who just all of a sudden just went BOOM father mode is activated, this is a patriARCH, you know? Daddy bats alright. And he's just like, his facial expression doesn't so much as twitch but a light blush just appears on his entire face and then Clark is just like HEART EYES and Hal is just like HEARTEYES (??!!) and Barry is suddenly having a sexuality crisis because what the fuck is this, and Diana is just like, speechless but in love and he just mumbles after a few moments “...you can continue your speech Clark I apologize for my lapse in professionalism” and Hal is just like “NAH MOTHERFUCKER YOU ARE NOT BREEZING PAST THAT WHAT THE FUCK SPOOKY??” and then the entire situation just devolves in chaos.

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uzurakis · 2 days

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you've been sitting beside nagi on the couch for what feels like hours, but it might as well be eons in the digital realm. his attention is wholly absorbed by the glow of his smartphone screen, fingers dancing with a practiced rhythm over the touchscreen. you watch him, feeling a twinge of jealousy creeping in.

"hey, seishiro," you say, trying to hide the irritation in your voice.

"hmm?" he responds absentmindedly, eyes still fixed on the screen.

"you've been on that thing for ages. don't you think it's time to give it a rest?" you then suggest, masking your annoyance with a playful tone.

not tearing his gaze away from the game, he replies, “just a sec, almost done with this level.”

you feel a sense of jealousy. why the hell is he so invested in that game when you were right here, craving his attention? with a grin, you leaned over and snatched his phone from his hands.

"hey!" nagi finally protests, reaching out to grab his phone back, but you deftly evade his attempts.

"uh-uh, not so fast," you tease, holding the phone just out of his reach. "i think someone needs a break from their little games."

“what does that have to do with me..” nagi still sitting quietly as you cross your hands.

"listen here, mister," you say, adopting a mock stern tone as you lean back against the couch cushions, a fake serious look on your face while you begin your teasy lecture. "well, i was just thinking that maybe someone should be paying more attention to their girlfriend instead of their high scores."

he hums, reaching out to wrap his arms around you. "you know you're the only score that matters to me, right?"

“pfft,” his corny comment makes you smile, and as he draws you in, you can't help but feel the rush of ease. "nice try, but flattery won't get your phone back that easily."

“huuh? i thought that trick might be easy to get my phone back…” then he’s back whining.

after nagi's attempt at flattery falls flat, he looks at you with a pout, his brows furrowing. "come on, give it back," he says, damn, boy was really upset and desperate.

you hold his phone just out of his reach, enjoying the game of cat and mouse. "not until you promise to spend some quality time with me," you tease, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

nagi lets out an exaggerated sigh, but he doesn’t protest to your tricks. "fine, fine. quality time it is," he concedes, leaning in to steal a quick kiss.

you grin triumphantly, knowing you've won this round. with a playful laugh, you give him a playful tap on the nose. "good choice, baby," you say with a wink, settling back against the couch as nagi wraps an arm around you, finally giving you the attention you've been craving.

“now can i have my phone back…”

n. me when i say i wanted to write a rin drabble but this came up instead. just nagi being nagi i guess. didn’t proofread, m sleepy. bllk requests are open <3 i wanna start writing for my babiess sobsob

@uzurakis

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rendy-a · 2 days

Note

Sorry, househusband Headcanons with Silver 👉👈✨💕(sorry the first questiom accidentally sent incomplete ) 👍

Ha ha ha. That first request would have been enough. Househusband Silver? Say no more. I'm with you there!

You have to keep an eye on him when he does chores to watch out for advice he picked up from your father-in-law. Lilia passed on some of the strangest housekeeping habits to Silver and you never know when they’ll pop up. You remember the winter that both of you were sick at the same time and Silver made an actual bathtub full of soup because that was the correct amount advised by Father.

You do all the cooking prep together. It’s not that you don’t like Silver’s cooking (even he knows to avoid using Lilia’s recipes), it’s just that you worry too much about his safety in the kitchen. There have been some close calls where Silver has fallen asleep with a hot stove on or holding a knife. Now, you have little dinner-prep dates to cook up meals for the week. Each finished dish is one your spouse can finish off in the microwave or by setting a timer on a kitchen appliance. It’s not foolproof but you certainly worry less. Seeing Silver in an apron is just an added bonus!

You never thought you’d say this, but small forest animals are your back-up plan. It’s like nature itself has decided to help your husband escape danger and accomplish his goals. You’ve literally seen mice help him sew up a rip in your clothes and a deer pull your sleeping spouse out of the street. You are grateful that Silver is so beloved by the animals, or you don’t know how you’d bare to leave him home without you!

You were sitting at your desk hard at work when suddenly a chill runs down your spine. You look at the clock, there are three more hours of work left in the day. You frown and decide to quickly check your phone messages, just in case. When you pull the device out and look, your heart drops when you see the message, [Father is here for a visit.] Oh dear, your famous Father-in-law is alone with your spouse, and you can’t do anything about it.

You quietly take your phone and sneak away to the parking lot for a quick call. It rings several times with no answer. You hang up and try again. This time, you get a sleepy, “Hello,” at the fourth ring. You smile at the sound, picturing your spouse just awoken from a short sleeping spell. “Hi dearest, I got your message. How are things going?” There is the smallest hint of a smile in the tone that replies, though you know he is stoic as ever on the other side. “Father is helping me clean out the attic. It’s going along well. We’ve got everything moved out and into our living room now.” You look out into the distance. All the dusty things hidden away in the attic are now all over your clean living room. Well, it could be worse.

You force an extra amount of cheer into your voice, “That’s great honey, and you are keeping an eye on him? Making sure he…doesn’t work too hard?” Silver assures you that he only fell asleep for a moment, but that Lilia was back where he expected him to be. You feel a sense of dread, “Silver, it is nearly lunch time. He hasn’t been cooking, has he? Did you check?” There is a long pause before Silver mutters, “I better go.” You wish him the best of luck and disconnect. Then, you gaze at your phone for a moment before dialing the nearest pizza delivery place. Better safe than sorry.

A few hours later, you sneak away to the restroom to text your spouse. [How are things?] You wait quietly in the stall until you get a reply. [Do you think we need to put a bedroom in the attic?] You look at your phone in surprise, this conversation is already veering wildly from what you anticipated. [Why would we do that?] You see the dots appear and wait for your hubby’s text. [In case we need to use the spare room for a nursery.] You sigh and roll your eyes, Lilia again. [We can talk about it when I get home. Agree to nothing!!!]

After work, your thoughts turn immediately to your spouse, and you head straight home. You see your house come into view and your sleepy husband is waiting for you at the door with his eyes shut. You climb the stairs and give him a sweet kiss. His eyes flutter open and he smiles at you, “I had a wonderful dream and now here you are.” You brush a strand of his silver hair from his forehead, “Which was better?” He looks at you with seriousness and replies, “You. You are always better.” You turn your head to the side, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “So where is our precious Father?” Silver drops back until he is only holding your hand, “He left. He said we needed time alone to work on his grandchildren.” You laugh and think that sounds very much like your spirited Father-in-Law. You rub your thumb along the fingers holding your hand, “Well, since he is gone, I suppose its safe to ask about your day. How did the attic cleaning project go?” Silver calmly assures you that things went just fine. Nearby, a squirrel looks up and meets your eye before giving you the most traumatized shake of its little head. “I’m glad everything worked out,” you say as you make eyes that say ‘I’m sorry’ to the neighborhood wildlife. You didn’t know what trouble he’d been involved in, but you knew some evil had been conquered today. You squeeze Silver’s hand and that prompts him to lift you into his arms and carry you over the threshold. It wasn’t happily ever after, but for today, it was enough of a happy ending for you and your prince charming.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst silver #silver x reader #househusband au

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jungshookz · 2 days

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yoongi's getting a lot of attention at the mall and y/n doesn't like it very much

➺ pairing; demon!yoongi x y/n

➺ genre; all of the usual demon!yoongi antics & a little more :-)

➺ wordcount; 1.8k

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

something is… off.

you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is off and you can quite literally feel it in the air

“do you think navy blue washes me out?” jungkook holds a shirt up to show you before pursing his lips, waving his hand in your face when he doesn’t get a response from you, “helloooo-“ you guys came to the mall today to do some shopping but for the last ten minutes you’ve been distracted by something which isn’t helpful to jungkook because he values your opinion when it comes to his style!

“you look great in navy blue and that’s a good shirt for summer, linen is a great material-“ you hold a finger up, turning your head slightly, “do you hear giggling?”

jungkook frowns, shaking his head slightly before looking in the same direction you are, “…no. i just hear generic pop music coming out of a set of shitty speakers- hey, do you think these stores play these songs on purpose so that you’ll shop faster and leave faster?”

“uh-huh, gimme a sec, kook-“ you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek before spinning around to face the exit, “where did you say yoongi went?”

“oh! he went to get some pretzel bites, i think.”

you weave in between the racks of clothes smoothly, your

your nose twitches as you pick up on the faint scent of yoongi’s cologne and cinnamon sugar (your favourite flavour for pretzel bites, of course) and you step out of the store, your eyes narrowing in suspicion when you spot yoongi heading in your direction

the black button-down he's got on hangs nicely on his frame and as he reaches up with his free hand to push his dark hair back, head tilting as a lopsided smirk makes its way onto his face when he spots you, “did you miss me so much that you had to come out and greet me? i was only gone for like ten minutes.”

you don’t respond, getting up on your tip toes to look over his shoulder only to notice that almost everyone is looking at yoongi, people pausing in the middle of what they’re doing to stare at him with lidded eyes and flushed cheeks

“what the hell…?” you don’t know how yoongi hasn’t noticed the fact that he has people drooling over him, and your face scrunches slightly when you see someone cross her legs and suck her bottom lip into her mouth as she stares at the back of yoongi’s head, “get a room-“

has it always been this bad???

how have you never noticed this???

maybe the reason why you never noticed all these things before is because you just had regular old human capabilities, but ever since you’ve been blessed (or cursed, however you want to see it) with some demonic abilities you’ve noticed a few things have changed about yourself: you can literally float (though, it only lasts a few seconds before gravity takes over), your eyes flicker black whenever you’re really upset, and all of your senses have heightened significantly — like today, you could hear the familiar purr of jungkook’s car from two miles away and he was more than surprised to see that he didn’t have to text you to get you and yoongi to come down like he usually does (you still haven’t broken the news to him that both you and yoongi are… not human, but you’ll get to it eventually)

“what’s wrong?” yoongi frowns, turning to glance over his shoulder, “what are you looking at?”

“people are… looking at you.” your jaw clenches slightly when another girl walks past the two of you, your ears picking up on the sound of blood rushing to her cheeks and her heart skipping a beat, “people are like- like, really looking at you.”

now, you’d like to clear things up and say that you’re not worried about yoongi running off to someone else because you know that yoongi loves you and also the two of you are literally bonded by blood or whatever — you know that yoongi is very attractive and most of the time you’re happy to walk around with him and have him admired by strangers but this is too much

this is like- well, to be honest, it looks like people are just about ready to pounce on yoongi at any given moment and now you feel like you need to defend him

in fact you’re pretty sure you heard someone growl at some point so now you’re wondering if the keys in your purse are going to work as a sufficient tool to ward people away

“of course they’re looking at me.” yoongi snorts, finding it amusing how flustered you’re starting to get, “they… i mean, not to toot my own horn here, baby, but i’m not lying when i say that everyone in this mall wants me to fuck the shit out of them, that’s kinda my whole thing, which, in my defense, you knew when we got together-" his eyebrows raise slightly when you whip your head back around to look at him, your eyebrows set in a glare as your eyes flicker black for a second

oh.

(he likes that.)

“well, i don’t like it.” you grumble, and yoongi knows you must be really upset because you haven’t attacked the cup of fresh pretzels he has in his hand and usually you’ve already popped like eight of them in your mouth

“you’re cute when you’re jealous. and you know i only have eyes for you, you’re being silly-” yoongi smiles, reaching down to pinch your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger to turn your head towards him, “hey, look at me- what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“what’s going on-“ you smack his hand away (yoongi’s demonic charm isn’t as strong now that you’re not entirely human) “is that i think we should buy whatever we need and then go home before everyone starts chasing after you-“

“you know, there is a way to offset the pheromones, or, whatever you wanna call it.” yoongi kisses his teeth, tossing a pretzel up into the air and catching it with his mouth as he chews thoughtfully, “i don’t evphen know what it is. my aura? i don’t know. whatehver demon thing is happening-“ he swallows, “i usually just have to fuck someone. then it takes like thirty minutes before the pheromones come back and everyone’s pining after me again.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between the two of you and the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk when he notices your throat bob as you swallow

“…that’s really the only solution?” you ask suspiciously, “because you got a paper cut last week and you said your body will heal itself faster if you go down on me, which i’m still struggling to see the connection-“

“well that was very obviously a lie, y/n, i just wanted to bury my face in between your legs and you were like, too busy writing a paper but it makes sense in this case, doesn’t it? get some good sex outta my system and people won’t pay as much attention to me because the tension inside of me has been released.”

“hm. i… guess you have a point. and you swear people will stop for a little while if you have sex?”

“pinky promise. but, you know, we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want me bending you over in the dressing room. i know you like having privac-“ yoongi stops halfway through his sentence, his own eyebrows furrowing when he picks up on the fact that there’s a group of guys checking you out and almost instantly he feels jealousy swirling in his system

“-nice ass.”

he catches the end of a sentence and his eyes darken as he loops an arm around your waist and tugs you towards him, making direct eye contact with the group, “yeah, and you’re never gonna get your grimy fucking hands on it, you freaks-!” he calls out, and you don’t get much of a chance to say or do anything else before he’s dragging you down the opposite direction, setting the cup of pretzels down atop the garbage bin

“hey- where are we going?? jungkook’s still in the- okay, well, i don’t see why we had to abandon the pretzels, but fine-“

“what do you think? we’re finding a washroom and i’m fucking the shit out of you-"

“see, this is exactly what i was talking about!” you let out a laugh of disbelief at yoongi’s shift in mood as you let him drag you towards the washrooms, “and you had the gall to make fun of me for feeling some type of way about other people staring at you!”

»»————- 🥨 ————-««

(“oh, fuck- fuck me, fuck me-“ you whimper, head dipping as you grip onto both sides of the ceramic sink, your eyelids fluttering shut as yoongi slides a hand from your lower back up before grasping the back of your neck, shoving you downwards as he continues thrusting, very much enjoying the view of your ass bouncing off of him at this angle

“good girl- so fucking good for me, always so good-“ he growls, sweat glistening off his brow bone as he tangles his fingers in your hair, grabbing a fistful before yanking you back up to press your back against his chest, the back of your head slotting against the crook of his neck, “nuh-uh, i want you to watch me fuck you-“

your eyes immediately flicker down and you make eye contact with him in the mirror, your cheeks flushed and lips slick and swollen and god you look hot-

“you- you swear this is gonna- gonna work-" your eyebrows crinkle together as you let out a particularly high moan when yoongi’s hand slides down in between your legs, the tips of his fingers pressing into your sensitive clit

“of course it’s gonna work, my girl.” he grunts, flashing you a boyish grin in the mirror, “don’t you trust me?”)

🎙️ ask y/n and yoongi if they had a good time (talk to my characters!)

📚 why not explore the rest of the library while you're here? (go say hi to yoongi and y/n in la vie en bonsai!)

💫 or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles and mini series!)

🌟 or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this!)

#teeny tidbits #demon!yoongi #demon!yoongi drabbles #yoongi drabbles #min yoongi drabbles #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts fics #bts fic recs #yoongi fics #yoongi fic recs #bts author recs #bts writer recs #min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi bts #yoongi fluff recs #yoongi smut recs

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