#and maybe now you can go back and listen to the songs from that time again

[whatifitis]

♡ In Between - FC 43 ♡

Summary: You and Franco has a nice night in, when you start to think about your guys relationship and wonder if it's time you tell him that you really like him.

WC: 2320

CW: overuse of song references, nothing really, it's quite fluffy, maybe some negative thoughts the reader has about themselves?

It’s a Saturday night, one of the least chaotic ones now that your best friend is a driver in F1. Franco was called up to fill Logan's seat for the rest of the season which is beyond exciting and you couldn’t be more proud. The only downside is that his schedule is so much more packed now that he’s getting acknowledgement from so many teams and people. All this new media coverage feels so insane. And something that doesn’t help is the fact that you’ve slowly been falling for Franco.

The two of you have been friends for a while. But in recent months, you’ve started to see him in a different light. You’re sure it’s just a crush but it’s been well over 2 months that you’ve felt this way. Some say that crushes only last about 2 months, once you’re past that mark, you’re actually in love with the person. You hoped this crush would go away, afraid to ruin what you have with Franco. Your relationship with him is the best that’s ever happened to you. You never want to lose him. But alas, the crush did not go away. So now you’re here.

It’s a bit late into the evening now. Franco asked you out for lunch earlier and now the two of you are lying on his bed, watching American Pie. The two of you were lying on the bed, side by side. Franco was lying with his back against the bed's headboard while you lied next to him on your side. The safest place you’ve ever known, next to him.

The two of you were halfway through the movie when he asked you a question that you didn’t quite catch the first time, so you angle your head up to look at him. As soon as you locked eyes with him, Franco couldn’t help but laugh. When you moved your head to look at him, your glasses had skewed on your face.

His laugh always was so contagious, it always got you laughing too. When you two had calmed your laughing fits, Franco took his hand and adjusted your glasses into the right position, before leaning forward and gently kissing your forehead.

“You’re beautiful… and funny… And smart. Like nothing I’ve ever seen.” You turned to bury your face in your hands, trying to hide your blushing face. You love it when he talks, not just about you. About anything really, he’s your favorite yapper and you wish you could listen to him all day. Your favorite sound ever.

“Hey, let me see that beautiful face again.” Franco says, grabbing your hand and moving it from your face. “Hi” he says when he can see you again. “Hi” you reply, smiling so hard. It was so hard to believe this was real, your guy's friendship. It was the type of relationship you’d always dreamed of, that sort of naive and innocent relationship that was filled with laughter and joy and… love? Was it too soon to use that word? Maybe considering you were just friends… Just. Friends.

“So,” Franco started, pulling you out of your thoughts, “What’s the dream?” “The dream?” you look at him, confusion written all over your face. “Yeah, the dream. Your dream. What you’re working towards.”

You laid there for a beat, thinking about it. What was your dream? All this time, you’ve just been focusing on surviving, not so much on the living.

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never really thought about it. I guess I want to finish my masters degree in uni. Then after that, just… live, I guess.” you look up at him with a smile. “That’s it? You don’t have any other goals or anything?” - his eyebrows furrow, showing you a confused expression. You shake your head no. “You’re kidding.” - Franco snorts in disbelief. “Well, what are yours? Your plans, goals.” You ask as you sit up against the headboard of the bed. “Em, well, I guess F1 was always a big goal, and now I have it.” he sits there for a second, thinking, twisting his lips as he does, “I’ve also always wanted to have a nice house for my family.” “What does this house look like?” you ask. He takes a moment to think, trying to come up with an honest answer for you. “I never really thought about that to be honest. I just want something nice with enough space for my family. I think a pool in the back would be nice. A big backyard so we could have barbecues as well.”

You’re smiling at him, admiring the person in front of you. You could find the whole meaning of life in those eyes. You’re glad he gets you, and your dark sense of humor. And when you let him in on all your bad decisions, he made them feel less terrible the second that he’d listen.

Don’t stop talking to me. Maybe stay here forever, with me.

“I think that sounds lovely.” you say. “Thank you.” he replies, blushing at your words, “What about your house? Your dream house. Surely you have a dream house.”

You sit up straight, so ready to answer this question. You won’t lie when you say you’ve always wanted to be asked about this. “I do. Um, well it would have a green kitchen. I saw a picture of one online a while ago and just became obsessed with the idea. And the bathrooms would be pink and red, I just think that would look sick. Oh! I also really want a blue hallway.” Franco gives you a confused look, “A blue hallway? For what?” “There’s this band that I love and in one of their music videos, the band painted a wall in the house blue.” “Ah. Which song is the one for the blue wall?” “It’s called True Blue. It’s a song about the person you love and who loves you. This person knows you so well, maybe even more than you know yourself.” “Interesting” he nods his head as he mentally writes down the name of that song so he can listen to it later. He turns his body more towards you, asking “Do you have a true blue?” “I think I’m slowly discovering mine” - you confess. “What about you? Got a true blue yourself?” He looks at you before looking down at his hands and failing to suppress a smile. “Yeah, I do.” “Well, go on. Tell me about them.” you insist. “She’s really cool.”

She? Was he talking to someone else? No, don’t be like that. Maybe it’s just a friend or something? Right?

“She is also really smart.”, he continues, “She loves reading and not only listening to music but also creating it.” Is he talking about me? I do that. “And she’s really good at that. She’s also the hardest working person I know. Like I mean she’s really smart, like Einstein smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at this. He’s definitely exaggerating but you have to admit, you’re pretty fucking smart.

“Oh, is she now? She must be one hell of a catch” “Oh trust me. She is and I’m very lucky to have her. She’s also the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. Not just on the outside, that’s an added bonus. But she’s just incredible. And she laughs at all my jokes. And when I save the dirty ones for her, her nose crinkles. It’s really cute actually. Her voice as well, oh my god. The best sound ever. Like when there’s something she’s really interested in or really passionate about, she could talk for hours. That’s one of my favorite things about her. That and her laugh, I wish I could bottle up the sound of her laugh and keep it with me, so I can listen to it whenever I want. Don’t even get me started on how she is with my family. They all get along so amazingly, it’s so much greater than anything I could ever imagine. I think one of the selling points was my family loving her as much as I do. This girl also will drop everything for those she loves. It doesn’t matter if she has work or school or anything, she will drop it just to make sure you’re okay. And she will beat anyone’s ass if they hurt you. I think I’m falling for her. I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I’ve seen her. Now it’s like there’s daylight. Whenever I’m with her, everything feels okay.” “Wow.” is all you can say in this moment. Was he really talking about you? Or are you wishfully thinking he is? “Yeah”, he blushes, “wow”

You take a moment to take all that information in. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. You clearly see how amazing he is, other people are able to as well. Your mood kind of dampens from these thoughts. You really thought you two could be something. You guess you made it all up in your head, it’s just all one sided.

“What’s wrong?” Franco asks. “Hm? What?” you respond, startled from the sudden break of silence. “What’s wrong? You kind of spaced out.” “Oh, nothing. Was just thinking.” “About?” he responds, sitting up from the bed to lean a bit closer to you. “It’s really nothing. Let’s keep watching the movie” you try to smile and lighten the mood again.

You move to raise the volume on the tv, but you feel Franco’s hand wrap around your wrist lightly. You turn back to look at Franco. He looks confused, and a bit scared?

“Wait, I need to talk to you.”

Oh shit

You return to your spot on the bed, not fully relaxing as his last sentence is kind of terrifying. “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” “I need to tell you something… about that girl.” “Oh”

Damn, alright. Keep bragging about how it’s not me, I guess.

“Well, I know she often thinks negatively about herself. Like she doesn’t deserve that type of stuff. Like love and happiness. She also has a hard time believing that people really do care about her. But I do, I love and care about her so much. And I know she’s afraid of letting people in, and she’s let me in a bit, but I want more with her.”

Ok, fuck me then. Wow, leave it to Franco to absolutely break my heart, unknowingly.

“So, what did you need from me?” “You dumb ass, it’s you! You’re the girl. You’re my true blue.” he lightly laughs.

What.

“What.” you stare at him blankly.

What the fuck? Is he for real right now? How though?

“I like you. I want more with you! You’re my true blue! I want you for worse or for better. I would wait for ever and ever.” - his tone is quiet as he confesses his feelings for you. You sit there silent for a moment before catching something. “Bitch, did you just quote Taylor Swift?!”

He looked to the side for a minute, as if he was thinking or trying to remember something while he pursed his lips. “Yeah?” he laughs, “I know you like her a lot so I listened to her a lot to try and learn some of her songs. They’re pretty good”

I’m going down without a fight, I don’t know how he does this. He makes me really nervous. What is he doing to me now?

“You listened to her… just for me?” you ask, still hesitant on whether he’s being serious or just messing with you. Cause you’re still falling for him and you can’t stop. This might be the thing that breaks you if it doesn’t end well.

“Yes. Staying up with you, despite the space between us. I’ve never felt so close to someone. You came out of the blue like a shooting star. You wait and wait for it to appear, and when it does, it illuminates its surroundings, just for a second. And that is the feeling that I want to feel forever. Everytime I get to see you, it’s like you illuminate every space you walk into.”

What if he’s my weakness?

“I- I don’t know what to say. All this time, I’ve been keeping on my mind on the running away. And for the first time, I’d consider to stay. I know I make the same mistakes a lot and I never learn. But I think I did one thing right.” you say, smiling as his starry eyes spark up this dark night.

He’s looking at you with so much admiration in his eyes.

“I got so damn close to packing it up, then you happened. I’ll never leave out the back door and I don’t plan on running away from the good things anymore.” - you continue.

The two of you just sat there in silence, staring at each other with smiles plastered on your faces. Franco is the first to break, moving closer to you, leaning close to grab the side of your face.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

You’re close enough to feel each other breathe. Just one inch closer and… His lips are on yours, connecting gently. They’re warm and soft. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer together. At the same time, Franco brings his other arm to wrap around your torso, grabbing the side of your waist so you don’t slip away. It’s like taking your first breath of air in years. You feel his lips on yours as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

After a few moments, you break the kiss, needing to actually take in some air. Franco’s hand is still on the side of your face, slowly he slides it down to connect your fingers with his.

“Can I be yours?” he asks, “Your forever true blue?” he asks. “Forever and always”

[bisnes-socks]

i love kot kot. i've always loved kot kot. and i'm gonna tell you why.

i think it's a beautiful song, i think it's a banger, i think it's a nostalgic sound, and i think it's an incredibly sad song.

musically, i think kot kot sounds like a summer night in finland. the contrast between the melodic, soaring chorus and the darker, harder verses sounds like walking back and forth between the bright light midnight and the dark clubs or bars or restaurants or something. going from the first verse into the chorus again feels like stepping out from a dark venue and it's 2 am but the light outside is the same as it was when you went in hours ago. it's actually super eerie the way time doesn't seem to move at all during the height of summer in finland. it's a sort of a liminal space that can feel either like never ending horror or an addictive state of true living, depening on how you deal with endless light. 

this is a summer song to me.

i love love love the free flying chorus.

i love love love the old school sound of the verses.

the chorus is beautiful with it's long soaring vowels and lines. the verses are mega bangers that remind of early 2000's music. the echoes of like old school drum and bass, breakbeat etc. are super nostalgic to me and have sent me down the rabbit hole of music from my childhood multiple times since the song came out. and i personally love the contrasts and different sections in the song. i think they go together well, i don't think they clash.

i think jurek and allu have composed a clever song. and honestly allu deserves more recognition across the board i am sorry i've been slipping in that department.

now. to the sad part.

i always felt like the chorus was sort of... wistful and melancholic. but the album puts all of that in a different context. he's not just mr. lonely. he's fucking terrified of being alone. 

"pelottaa, ettei jatkopläänit ehkä osukkaa, kuumottaa tosissaan, osote ois saatava, poket tos jo hoputta siis vastatkaa nyt saatana" meaning "i'm scared that after party plans will fall through, seriously getting jittery about it, i need an address, bouncers are on my case, somebody pick up the phone" like with the context of the full album now, it's really painting a picture of someone who does not want to go home and face being alone with his thoughts.

i remember when the song came out and people had all sorts of headcanons and ideas as to why the second time round the voice on the phone is in english - things like maybe he's making an international call or something. well, the truth is that in finland, that message is always played in three languages: finnish, swedish and english. so why is it in english the second time? honestly in all seriousness i think it's just a little nod to his international fans or something, like i don't think there is a real story reason for it. but if there was.. well, if anything, to me it suggests that he must have stayed on the phone, listening through the whole litany: valitsemaanne numeroon ei juuri nyt saada yhteyttä, kontakt med numret ni har valt fås ej, the number you have dialed cannot be reached. to get to the english part he has already been told twice in two languages that there is no one there, nobody is picking up, but he's still there.

honestly this song more than anything feels like the true pair of autiomaa, because to me, this song is someone trying to avoid feeling exactly the way autiomaa describes. feeling empty, feeling nothing, feeling alone. he says as much: "tää klubi on yht tyhjä ku sen katsoja" meaning this club is as empty as he who is looking at it. he's empty and finding other people to party and hang out with is the only way out of feeling empty, the only way to distract himself from the fact that he is lost.

and so for skit and autiomaa to come right after this? he has reached a breaking point and realised he has to face the nothingness inside.

and again, like with takavoltti, i think this song represents that long standing finnish tradition of writing funny lyrics about difficult subjects. it's also very very typical in finnish culture to make songs that seem to be about drinking on the surface level but are actually not about that. this song builds a lot of very comedic images: him vibing to celine dion alone in a club and refusing to leave, fighting with bouncers etc. and then of course there is the whole chicken thing with kot kot kot. it's funny - except it's not funny at all.

but the thing is, it's okay to find things funny in the song. they both are and are not funny at the same time, because isn't that what life is. i don't think the intention of these songs is to make you feel one specific way, it's just a matter of perspective. and that can change from day to day. so i think it's okay if one day the song breaks your heart on behalf of the käärijä in the story of the song, and on another day you just want to belt out the chorus and dance through the verses. it's all okay, it's all good.

and that's pretty skilled song writing.

[pixitarot]

bang chan as a bf

🅽🅾🆃🅴: ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ

i didn’t expect some of the cards i got tbh. please take this with a grain of salt lol.

pros:

- a hopeless romantic. i think i mentioned this already in my ideal type reading but he is big on just being with that one person for the rest of his life.

- a desire to make all of his person’s wishes come true. yall know that song by big time rush “any kind of guy” i was hearing that in my head lol specifically the lyrics “any kind of guy you want girl, that’s the guy i’ll be, turn myself upside down.” corny ik, but i think he would say cheesy shit like that lol. i literally have not heard that song in a minute. basically he would do anything that his person desires. they want a dog? he’ll get one. they want to take a dance class? he’ll sign them up for one. those are just some examples

- he lovesss to spoil his partner. i honestly think gift giving could be a big love language for him. it makes him feel good seeing his partner enjoy things that he has bought them or things they have bought with his money

- he would defend his partner no matter what. he does not fuck around when it comes to the people he loves, so if someone disrespects his person, he won’t stay quiet

- he’s always keeping his promises! even with his busy schedule, he will make time for his person . i think he could even have this routine where they like go watch a movie every saturday or smth. reminds me of when he would go live every sunday lol. if he wouldn’t be make able to make it, he’ll schedule it for the next day. he will always do something to make up for it

- he’ll always keep the relationship feeling new. yk how the honeymoon phase wears off, he’ll do everything to make things more fun and romantic. he could plan so many cute dates. he would always know the right things to say. he could literally give u butterflies even 5 years of dating him just because of his smooth talk lol

cons:

- chan could be….pretty dominant. now this obviously doesn’t mean he’s gonna go crazy controlling his person. however, he’s a natural leader. he leads in his career, and it melts into his relationships as well. he likes to be the one to make the decisions. he could be stubborn in his ways so he won’t back down. it’s his way or the highway vibes

- chan can be hot headed. it seems like he would try really hard not to fight with his person, but it just never works out. he could be pretty passive aggressive when he gets mad. i’m not gonna lie i feel like he could bicker a lot with his partner.

- remember how i said he loves to spoil his partner? well he could use this to his advantage as well. chan could do/say something to upset them and he’ll spoil them as an “apology.” ik some of yall would find this a pro lol but this can cause resentment overtime. maybe he isn’t good at apologizing, but with communication from both sides, this can change.

- i think chan can be super overprotective. i could say possessive aswell, but im more so getting overprotective. it’s like he has this fear that something could happen to his partner, and this can scare him. it could be something he overthinks about a lot in relationships. it’s almost paternal like. like a father worrying about his daughter. of course, many could see this as a pro, however, it could get to the point where it becomes suffocating because it’s like…are you my father or my boyfriend? i’m seeing him lightly scold his partner for being out late lol. it’s stuff like that.

astrological dice:

leo, cancer, 6th house, 3rd house

romantic and fun, and confirmation on the routine thing with the 6th house. communication is something he’ll need to work on. he could be nurturing to his partner with the cancer. i think he likes to be the one his partner goes to if they’re sad.

i want to emphasize that the cons could easily be changed overtime. if he had a partner that sits down and talks to him about their boundaries, chan would 100% listen and would stop doing whatever makes his person uncomfortable. i honestly don’t think chan is too experienced when it comes to relationships…so it is also a learning experience for him.

[minkieater]

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

TWO ➺ the boyfriend as a junior at NYU, you just landed your dream internship. you didn't think a shot at your career would come with secrets, mistakes, and drama... at what age do you really start to grow up?

if you've read luck or carousel... this one's for you.

w. smut mdni 18+ ! alcohol consumption wc. 9.7k

it’s been two weeks. 

two weeks of constant pondering, paranoia, tension, anxiety… name it, you’re feeling it. all your personal projects have taken a hiatus, you can barely get into a creative mindset to work on your assignments. you’ve sat brainlessly in class, biting on the cap of your pens, fidgeting with anything you had around you. you’ve laid in bed, tried to watch tv, tried to get your mind off of mingi. you’ve barely slept, tossing and turning almost every night whether jeongin was next to you or not. 

not once has the feeling of guilt shown itself, not once has regret been in anxiety’s passenger seat in a drive by. you can only think of him, the strength he used to lift you onto his lap, the regretful look on his face while he apologized, the coolness of his rings on your cheeks. you wanted to do it again.

you’d never done something like this in your life, it felt like two halves of you were ripped apart with no one to sew them back together. with your friendships you’ve always been painfully loyal, willing to put someone in the ground for them if need be. with your romantic relationships you’d been the same, you couldn’t place why you’d do something like this now, this far into your relationship. it was unfair to jeongin, unfair to your friends who still look at you with love and innocence, unfair to yourself who has the love of their life in their hands yet pining after another. 

it was an accident, but if you could go back in time, you wouldn’t change a thing. 

your friends haven’t noticed any difference in your behavior, even riley, who was too wrapped up in a dilemma of her own to notice what you’re going through. you couldn’t talk about it with her anyhow, you couldn’t talk about it with anyone. today is the first day you’ve started to feel like you’re okay, maybe it’ll work out, maybe you got away with it. 

you see yourself differently: sneaky, deceiver, cheater. if that’s what you had become… 

you laid on the couch in the studio, the same studio you’re always in, trying to rip your thoughts from your head and cook up something creative. your legs were bent up with your head on the pillow, one arm laid over your forehead and the other tapping against your stomach, hearing the beat in your head. 

you sighed and stood, moving over towards the desk, figuring you might as well pour everything you’re feeling into a song. or at least try to, if your brain will allow you to create a melody. 

you put your headphones and start fucking around before something clicks. an hour goes by without you even noticing… then it’s two… then three… and you’ve created a song the fastest you ever have in your life. 

an r&b song, a haunting piece with an ambient, moody vibe, a subtle bass line and very minimalistic beats compared to your other work. for the first time, you listen to your own music and can imagine the vocals over the melody. you pull out the notes app in your phone, already flooded with different entries of lyrics you’ve never been able to place. you create a blank page and get to writing, letting your fingers pour all of your thoughts out.

words about confidence and manipulation occupy the screen, a storyline of going back to an ex because they can offer more than the singer’s current partner. there’s an ambiguity to the lyrics, an uncertainty you’re left with at the end, wondering if going back would be a better idea than staying in the current relationship. 

it’s not exact to your situation but it’s close enough, the story you created is less incriminating than what your situation really is. you smile at your screen, wondering how you’re going to get this recorded without another person helping you. 

an idea pops into your brain, one you shut down as fast as it popped up. he hasn’t shown back up in the studio since that night, and you want it to stay that way. mainly because you don’t know how you’ll face him again without jumping his bones. 

you feel lighter after getting your words out, like you got your feelings off your chest without having to say them to anyone. 

a knock is heard at the door, and instead of the heat that usually fills you with the knowing of who it could be, your body freezes. a chill slithers up your spine and you squeeze your eyes in hope that it’s not who’s usually behind that door. 

“hey, baby,” you hear your boyfriend’s voice and whip around in surprise, plastering a smile on your face. he leans down and kisses you. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed. it’s rare that he comes to the studio, he’s usually working on assignments or his own projects. you’re notorious for coming to the same studio room every time, no one else usually comes to this one due to the equipment being a little older. it works for you and it’s always empty, it might as well be yours. 

“i was walking through wash on my way back from class, i assumed you’d be here. missed you,” he smiles, giving your head a small scratch and then brings his attention to the monitor, “watcha working on?”

“just a melody i’ve been playing with for the past few hours,” you remain nonchalant, shrugging your shoulders. 

“can i hear it?” he asks sweetly, bending at his knees so only his eyes peer over the desk.

“there’s a chair right over there, innie,” you pat his head. thank god you didn’t record any vocals yet. 

he lets out an oh! and pulls it over, the smile that permanently sat on his face is bright, eager to listen to your work. you press play, patiently waiting for his reaction. 

jeongin will listen to your music from time to time, usually only when you ask him for his opinion, not that he’s knowledgeable enough to give any real feedback. supportive he is, though, so when you need to hear ‘it’s so good!’ or ‘i love it!’ you know who to ask. 

as the song ends, he sits with an eyebrow raised, “this is a different vibe than usual, yeah?” 

you nod, “i’m in a mood, this is what came out of it.”

“i like it, sounds like music to fuck to. what mood are you in?” his smile turns mischievous, eyebrows wiggling, and your skin crawls. 

you play it off with a laugh, “not that mood.” you guess it could be a sexy song, but the emotions behind it aren’t remotely close to having sex with your boyfriend. a sour feeling sits in your stomach. 

“are you gonna stay for a while or can i steal you? it’s monday and i have class all day tomorrow, i want to get my ki time in before it gets too late,” he leans his head back against the chair, staring down at you. 

“your place or mine?” you needed out of this building. you take your hard drive out of the system as he stares at you in surprise, he was not expecting that to actually work. 

“mine?” disbelief is clear in his voice, and you want to laugh. if he only knew why you’d agreed so quickly, why you needed quality time with him. after spending hours driving yourself insane, creating art dedicated to a man you shouldn’t pay any attention to, you needed to replace the thoughts with jeongin. you just wish you felt a little remorse about it. 

you pack up your backpack and sling it over your shoulders, ripping the door open with jeongin following closely behind. he links your fingers together, picking up his speed to walk alongside you. you make it halfway down the hall before you hear two pairs of footsteps get closer from around the corner, down one of the side hallways. 

it feels like slow motion as you walk past the opening in the hallway, yours and jeongin’s heads turning to look at the same time, just for the pair of people to nearly intercept you at the turning point. they come to a halt to let you pass, and jeongin’s hand tugs at yours to bring you to a stop. 

almost a full fourteen days without seeing his beautiful face and perfect body. tall and lean but muscular, a true sleeper build, with perfectly messy hair and a face chiseled by aphrodite herself. as your eyes drift and you take notice of the tiny blonde number by his side, you immediately feel sick to your stomach. you would involuntarily throw up from both anxiety and this random girl standing so close to him if you had ingested anything today. 

you do your best to keep your cool. your voice does not waver as you say hello to him with a smile, jeongin doing the same. the men make small talk and your ears ring so loudly you couldn’t make out a single word of what they were saying. the blonde is smiling at you and you can’t bring yourself to smile back at her, fighting to keep all of your emotions below the surface. 

it doesn’t make sense as to why this would remotely bother you. for starters, you have a boyfriend, but even if you didn’t, you two have only kissed once. flashbacks of your extensive conversation fill your mind, suddenly regretting your vulnerability. talking about your childhood, life back home versus in the city, why you got into music, your dreams for the future. why would you share such special thoughts with someone whom you have no space for in your life? somehow it made it worse that he shared those same things with you, if not more. 

looking at the small, blonde and blue eyed, model-esque girl beside him, you wish you felt bad. you wish you could smile at her, get her name, maybe even make a new friend. she doesn’t deserve the cold glint in your eyes, you have no right to be wearing that look in the first place. all you could feel was the harsh pang of jealousy that was beginning to consume you, beckoning to show itself. 

as you say goodbye his eyes meet yours, and for a split second you swear you can see the same depth of jealousy you wore beneath them. another thing the two of you have in common, you suppose. you faked the same smile as before and gave a small wave, turning on your heel to walk away. you didn’t know when yours and jeongin’s hands unlinked but you searched for it again, sliding your fingers between his. 

“you okay?” he sweetly asks from beside you, and you pull your lips together in yet another fake smile. you nod quickly, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. 

the fifteen minute walk back to his apartment was quick, you just listened as he rambled about his day, telling you all about his classes. you usually take everything in, ask him questions, learn more about his studies. you can relate a little bit sometimes, he was getting his masters in musical theatre writing. it didn’t overlap too much but you could learn anything from anywhere, so you typically listened actively. today, you were short circuiting, like you’ve been for the past two weeks. 

when you finally got inside, the couches were filled with his three roommates and an extra few lounging as well. riley was seated next to chan with felix on the end of one couch, on the other was seungmin, han and minho. changbin was cozied up on the recliner, hyunjin sitting on the floor between his legs. you mentally prepared yourself for the hours to come, especially with riley there. 

never in your over two years of friendship have you ever deliberately kept something from her, not that you ever possibly could until now. she’s been so wrapped up in whatever she has going on you weren’t up to date on her situation, you haven’t had the mental capacity to listen to her troubles let alone help her try to solve them. by the looks of it she seemed just fine cozied up next to chan, and that was enough for now. 

“everyone’s favorite married couple! they’re home,” felix sings out into the spacious room, falsetto bouncing off the walls. you put on your best smile, waving to everyone. 

“i can’t believe you’re here before 9 pm ki, i was starting to get nervous that our innie was your dirty little secret,” seungmin called from the couch, one side of his lips lifting into a smirk. 

“i’d say 6 is too early for a situationship, dontcha think? don’t those usually happen later at night?” you ask, setting your backpack down on the kitchen table and your eyes shoot to riley, hoping chan doesn’t catch it. a small smile forms on her face in response and the smile alone puts you at ease.

“wouldn’t you love to know?” he asks rhetorically and you roll your eyes, you’d be panicking that he knew something if this wasn’t seungmin’s usual attitude. feisty, snarky, cocky, rich boy rude, every term in a thesaurus under ‘irritating’ would fit just fine. 

“i’d say around one in the morning if you were looking to come over later, keeks,” hyunjin peeks his head around changbin’s knee, sending you a shit eating grin. this makes your smile genuine, and you can’t help but giggle. 

“make sure you leave the door unlocked for me,” you wink at him as you make your way over to the living room. 

“hey now,” jeongin calls as he follows behind you, “if ki’s going, i’m going, too.” 

“the more the merrier, baby,” hyunjin shoots your boyfriend a classic smile, licking his lower lip. jeongin scowls, even though he should’ve expected that response from your friend with the most active sex life, despite being single. 

“what are you guys up to?” you ask, looking around the room. you catch riley’s eye again, her head leaned back on chan’s shoulder. you both share a warm smile and you can feel the excitement shedding off of her, but something feels off about it. you make a mental note to make time for her. 

“we were watching hairspray,” han answers, holding up the remote with a smile. 

han, your favorite one out of the group other than hyunjin, the only one you’ve actually shared a couple classes with. he’s getting his bachelors in songwriting, maybe staying for a masters in music theory and composition, you weren’t sure. you don’t even think he was sure. 

“5 pm on a monday and you’re watching hairspray? none of you bitches have class?” you lift an eyebrow, scanning the room. everyone but changbin shakes their head no, amusement clear on every single face in the room. 

changbin doesn’t attend school in the first place, him and hyunjin live a couple streets down in their shared apartment. the pair work at an upscale hotel bar around the corner from their place, both have been working their asses off since they graduated high school. changbin dj’s as well at various different bars and clubs, a fun hobby turned side hustle. hyunjin is still in school, a senior with an art degree, his lifelong hobby became his career. at least once he graduates it will be. 

“well press play, they’re about to do new girl in town!” you sit on the floor in front of seungmin and han, jeongin taking the space right beside you. you stretch your legs over his lap and he immediately starts running his fingers over the tattoos on your shins, knowing them by heart. 

the rest of the movie was spent singing along, han or changbin cracking jokes, or riley, felix and chan either praising or picking apart some part of the performance. with the three drama majors in the room, all of you as a group could never watch a movie in silence or in peace, especially a musical. it didn’t matter to you though, you loved it, you welcomed it. you loved this group of people, so many different personalities that worked scarily well together, blended into one big group. as much as you wanted to bask in this feeling of appreciating them, that tiny voice in the back of your head reminded you that you’d lose everything if they found out what you did. 

“wanna watch another one? we could watch grease,” felix offers with his eyebrows raised, eyes shining with excitement. you involuntarily yawned, leaning your head back onto han’s leg. 

“we have work soon, we should head out,” changbin says from the recliner, using his hands to brace himself as he gets up, careful not to bump hyunjin with his knees. 

“boo,” minho calls from behind you, and like a domino effect, everyone joins in with disapproval.

they both smile, hyunjin swiftly standing up from the floor, “i’m sorry! money calls and i answer.” 

this only makes the rest of you jeer louder, now even putting some thumbs down in the air. they give you guys waves and goodbyes as they leave, leaving the recliner seat open. you and jeongin quickly look to one another before smiling, knowing you both thought the same thing at the same time. he hops up to sit on the cozy chair, spreading his legs so you could sit comfortably on his lap. you pulled the blanket hyunjin had on the floor over the two of you, bringing your feet up to lay across jeongin’s legs as he reclined the chair back. 

“ki, did you apply for an internship? jeongin was telling us something like that,” chan asks, and you notice that riley’s legs that were once in front of her are now swung over chan’s thigh. 

“yeah! i decided to apply a little earlier than usual, but last week i met with the internship supervisor and applied to atlantic, republic, epic, and RCA,” you counted on your fingers, making sure you didn’t forget any. 

“oh shit, you applied to atlantic? that’s huge, dude,” han smiles wide, “i hope you get it!”

“they’re the number one record label in the city, aren’t they?” seungmin asks, an eyebrow raised. 

“yeah, they have insane artists signed. cardi b, lizzo, don toliver, charlie puth, bruno mars, i could go on for awhile,” you sigh, “i’m shooting for republic, but the chances of getting into republic are even more slim than atlantic. don’t get your hopes up.” 

“don’t be pessimistic you ass, you could very easily get accepted. don’t those two douchebags from the party a couple weeks ago intern at republic? if they got in you totally can,” minho declares while readjusting himself on the couch cushion, letting his hand rest on han’s thigh.

minho is one of the quietest ones in the group, yet when he has something to say, he says it with his chest. he is opinionated and funny about it, but one of the kindest and gentlest people you’ve met at NYU. 

the diss on mingi makes the urge to defend him sit at the tip of your tongue, instead you lay your hands out on the blanket and let out a small chuckle, “republic has the weeknd, ariana grande, daniel caesar, post malone, lil wayne, greta van fleet… you can see the appeal and why it’s so prestigious.” 

“you’re so talented i don’t see how you wouldn’t get it,” jeongin says from under you and you giggle, kissing the side of his head. 

“thank you, but it’s a fight, y’know? hundreds, probably thousands of people are trying to get employed there, let alone intern,” you shrug. 

“yeah, but we go to NYU,” riley adds, and the entire room agrees, shrugging and nodding in a ‘she has a point’ kind of way. you nod with a small smile, choosing not to explain further, they just didn’t get it. 

you guys did end up watching grease, singing your hearts out and reflecting on how musicals and films in general have changed from the 80s until now. when you put a bunch of creative students in a room, especially when their studies mostly revolve around music, dance and theatre, this topic of conversation is common. it’s comforting, being in a room full of people who understand your mind for the most part, even if the only person in the room with your major is yourself. 

way past the time you had all eaten dinner and watched a few episodes of whatever seungmin had on the tv, you and jeongin had decided to wash up and go to sleep. he did have classes all day tomorrow when you only had 1, you didn’t want to keep him up any later than he needed to be. you didn’t know if you’d even be able to sleep.

riley headed home hours ago, han and minho went back to their shared apartment right before dinner. without everyone here, the place felt entirely too big, quiet, and empty. seungmin and felix were both quiet around when they moved about the apartment, which always made you nervous when you first started to stay the night here, especially when jeongin told you chan has insomnia. the place is huge, making sounds echo through the whole apartment, but that’s something you care less and less about as time goes on. two years later and they feel just as much as your roommates as they are jeongin’s.

your shared shower was quick and innocent for the most part, as they usually are, washing each other’s hair and shared kisses and small, intimate touches all over. you pulled one of jeongin’s tees over your body, the size of it swallowing you, and continued to squeeze the water out of your hair with a towel. jeongin sat on the bed facing you, shirtless, with a pair of baggy pajama pants covering his lower half. 

“you know i love you, right?” he asks, looking up at you, wet hair laying flat from the weight of the water, framing his face. he scrunched out most of the moisture, his copper locks curling up more as it starts to dry. 

you paused your movements, looking at him, seeing his vulnerable truth laid out across his face. “of course i do, baby, and i love you too.” you dropped the towel, moving to stand in front of him, putting your hands in his hair. 

you massaged his scalp and his eyes fluttered shut, leaning his forehead against your stomach, “no, ki, like i really love you. ‘m always thinking about you, dreaming of our life together after we graduate.”

you shuddered, taking in a breath, feeling a tightness in your chest. tears welled up in your eyes and you looked to the ceiling, praying they wouldn’t fall. 

“i don’t wanna freak you out or anything, i won’t say anything else, just want you to know that. can’t imagine my life without you in it.” 

with that, the tears fall, you couldn’t help it at that point. for the first time in two weeks, guilt has shown itself, and it’s choosing to stick to you. you quickly wipe your eyes, looking down to him, and he peeks up at you, resting his chin on your stomach instead. 

“no, baby, why are you crying?” he asks as his arms move to the backs of your thighs, pulling you towards his lap. you crawl onto his lap, straddling him, and lay your head on his shoulder. 

“i love you too jeong, i’m sorry i’m so busy and so tired all the time. you don’t deserve it, i’m so sorry,” you’re apologizing for the wrong thing and you know it, but you can’t bear to say the truth. the tears kept falling and you break into a sob, uncontrollably gushing onto his shoulder. 

“ki, baby, i didn’t mean to make you cry, i’m sorry,” he lifts your head, wiping your tears, “i just wanted to remind you how much i love you, that’s all, please don’t cry.” 

he leans forward and attaches your lips to stifle your cries, hands cupping your cheeks. your sobs halt after a few minutes, you could taste the saltiness of your tears sliding into the kiss as you melt into him, into this familiar feeling he gives you. the feeling of being home, the same feeling the starless sky of new york gives you, that nostalgic comfort that is so different yet so inviting. it’s been so long since you’ve paid attention to this peace within jeongin, since you’ve allowed yourself to let him remind you why you fell in love in the first place.

you couldn’t believe yourself, couldn’t comprehend why you did what you did when you have this perfect, beautiful man under you. the man you want to live in a penthouse with in the middle of the city, the one you want to put a ring around your finger. in that exact moment, you took all of your thoughts and feelings about mingi and locked them in a box, pushing them to the deepest pit in your brain possible and then pushed farther. you’d never look at him, think of him, dream of him, acknowledge his existence again if that meant you could make the man under you happy for the rest of your lives. 

with that thought your kisses turned eager, filled with the motive of desperation, wanting to prove to him that your thoughts rang true. you wanted him to feel your love, feel your rekindled desire for him through your touch. and like always, he understood you immediately, without knowing the real reason why. your tongues danced, exploring each other’s mouths like this was the first time they’d ever been introduced. he pushed his hands into your hair, pulling it slightly, making a gasp slip past your lips. his legs spread ever so slightly, making you sink a bit further into his lap, feeling him pressed up against your unclothed core. 

you ground your hips against his, eliciting a deep groan from the back of his throat right into your mouth. you swallowed it, taking your time moving your hands from his shoulders down to his chest to his abdomen, feeling every bump and curve of muscle like you’d never touched him before today. you pushed him back, down onto the bed and lifted yourself off of his lap, needing to taste him, needing him to feel as important as he made you feel all the time. you dropped to your knees on the floor and he sat up on his elbows to watch you. his usual happy, bright pupils were blown, clouded over with lust. he needed this just as much as you did. 

marked fingers slipped inside the waistband of his pants, mouth watering before he was even exposed. as his pants made it to his ankles you wasted no time, licking a stripe up his shaft and spitting directly onto the tip of him. your hands made quick work, pumping him, and the sounds that left his lips were lethal.

“fuck,” a long and languid groan escaped his lips, only pushing you to elicit more out of him. you wrapped your lips around him, your hands and mouth working as one, using more than enough spit. just how he likes it, and you know he likes it messy. 

he sat up more, his hand finding your hair, fingers burying themselves in your roots with fervor. you could see his core tense up, muscles more chiseled than they were when he sat relaxed, and his head rocked back. you were choking on it now, your gag reflex had clocked in, throat constricting around the length of him. “just like that baby, fuck you look so pretty wrapped around me.” 

you loved it when he treated you like that, used you instead of having a care in the world for your comfort. you wanted it to be all about him, you wanted him to do as he pleased, not to worry about how you felt. you didn’t deserve it. as your nose touched his pelvis, his hips bucked into your throat and he whined. he sounded so beautiful, so angelic yet so dirty. with the last jerk of his hips he’d twitched in your mouth, emptying himself directly down your throat. you popped off of him with a gasp, catching your breath, smiling up at him and licking your lips. 

“c���mere,” he mumbled as he picked you up off the floor, strong arms flipping you onto your back on his navy blue comforter. he cages you beneath him, kissing you even messier than before, his tongue no doubt tasting himself all over yours. his hand made its way between your legs, spreading your slick before slipping two fingers in. your back arched, pushing you up into his chest, strangled moans leaving your lips.

“need you,” you mumbled between kisses, hand finding it’s way between his legs again, making him hiss in overstimulation. 

“not yet, wan’ taste you first,” he mumbled back and you wanted to complain until you were pushed up the bed. before you could process, his tongue was already licking a stripe up your center, any complaint you could’ve came up with was long gone. you immediately twitched, your hips bucking into him, making him smile into your core. he always ate like a man starved and he always finished his meals, two habits that didn’t waiver especially when it came to you. 

his fingers slipped back inside, curling up to hit that one spot that always had you seeing stars. you begged him, chants of right there and don’t stop between other mumbles of things that didn’t make sense. it didn’t take long for you to finish around his fingers. he stayed rhythmic, lips wrapped around your clit in constant suction until you rode out your high, too much pleasure forcing you to arch your back to shift your hips away from him. 

“please, jeongin,” was all you could get out, you needed him inside. you needed the closeness, the connection, the skin on skin contact. he pulled his shirt over your head, mouth immediately attaching to a peaked nipple, making you arch into him again to feel his bare body pressed against yours. a dramatic whine leaves your throat, you were far gone, miles past impatient. 

he pushes you up by the backs of your knees, finally slipping inside, making the two of you moan in unison. 

“fuck, i love you so much,” he groans, pausing at the hilt to let you adjust. the raw emotion bleeding from his skin into yours, the two of you moving perfectly in sync, you’d never had sex like this before. in your two years of being together, it’d never been so powerful, so passionate. you couldn’t help the tears that began to slip out again, they came without a warning and they wouldn’t stop. he kissed them away, cradling your head in his hands as he pushed into you steadily. 

“i love you,” you choked out between thrusts, repeating it like a spell, hands reaching for anything they could grab. his broad shoulders, solid biceps, chiseled jaw, perfect curls… you wanted to feel all of him.

his speed picked up, hands moving to lift up your hips to bully that special spot again, the volume of the both of you growing louder. “god, you’re so perfect, made f’me,” his words are instinctive, staring down at where the two of you joined. there wasn’t a single thought behind his stare, just a primal gleam to his dark, rich, fox like eyes. 

you grabbed his face, making him look at you, craving the intimacy of eye contact as tears poured down your cheeks and that familiar feeling in your stomach tightened, “inside, jeongin, please baby. inside, want it inside.” 

you yelp as the coil snaps, no doubt heard throughout the whole apartment as you finish around him, core pulsing as his thrusts become erratic. “needed this, need you, love you so fucking much,” his words are still detached, mindless as he buries himself inside you, letting out the most pornographic moan, unloading himself inside. you felt warm, full, entirely complete as he catches his breath, leaning the full weight of himself on top of you. 

your hands go to his hair, scratching his scalp with your nails, making him shudder. you can feel him still pulsing inside, eliciting small noises out of you. “wanna stay like this,” you mumble, voice low. his face, buried in your neck, leaves small kisses along the side. 

“can’t,” he’s barely audible between kisses, “that was so good. so perfect.” 

you hum in agreement, feeling your tears pool at the base of your neck, moving your hand to lightly scratch his back, “love you, innie.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you were sitting in the middle of prince, yunho and wooyoung beside you when you received the email. with a mouth full of beer, you couldn’t believe what was displayed across your screen, beer nearly shooting out from between your lips. you swallowed with a loud cough, dropping your phone onto the table, covering your mouth as your cough progressed into a fit of several. as you loudly choked on your beer, wooyoung lifted up your phone, reading the screen. 

mumbling, he read, “we are happy to inform you that after careful consideration,” his voice gradually got louder and clearer, “we have selected you to join republic records as an A&R intern for the spring term?!” 

he looked at you, eyes wide with disbelief, “shut the actual fuck up!”

yunho quickly stands and wraps his arms around you, wooyoung following suit, both jumping up and down, congratulating you a hundred times in the time span of 30 seconds. 

“holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, dude, i can’t believe you got in! this is fucking awesome!” wooyoung is yelling, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“i’m so proud of you ki, this is such an achievement. this is perfect,” yunho’s smile is warm, his voice a lot calmer than wooyoung’s, “we should celebrate.”

you sat there, jaw still on the floor, staring at the both of them in utter shock as they stood before you expectantly. you quickly picked up your phone, running a hand through your hair, reading the email again.

“what the fuck is A&R?” you mumble, then look up two your 2 friends, “what the fuck is A&R?!” 

“girl, how the fuck should we know? read the email!” wooyoung yells, bringing his beer to his lips again, taking his seat back on the stool. 

you scroll down, “it stands for artists and repertoire. your role will involve assisting the team in scouting new talent, attending live shows, reviewing demo submissions,” you take a deep breath, pausing to to look up at the two who are staring back at you with focused faces, “you may also assist in coordinating recording sessions and compiling reports on industry trends.”

yunho gasps, “holy shit, keeks, that’s a huge responsibility.” 

your hand slaps over your mouth, not knowing how to answer. your eyes go back down to the email, skimming the words on the screen, “i’m supposed to start in january, but they’re letting me start in november.” 

“that’s good! that’s soon!” wooyoung’s hands go up, that wide smile still on his face. 

“do you think you’ll be in the studio at all? i feel like nothing on that list puts you behind the desk,” yunho lifts a brow, and you want to kiss him for thinking of your best interest. “mingi’s in the studio almost every time he’s there, but he’s more like an assistant to the producer he’s with that day. he told me hongjoong is closer to a producer than an intern.”

the mention of mingi makes you cringe, but you’re at the point where even your internal reaction is significantly less than it would’ve been weeks ago. you’re almost at the point where it feels like nothing happened. 

you shrug, “they know what i’m studying, maybe where they put me is the position they need assistance with right now. a foot in the door is a foot in the door.” 

“and that’s exactly the attitude you should have,” wooyoung nods proudly, “my ki, my sweet, innocent angel from bumblefuck nowhere, working at republic records. you should call your mom.” 

you make a face, upper lip twitching in discomfort, that is on the bottom of the list of things you want to do right now. you want to call jeongin, tell your whole group of friends, throw a party and dance away the adrenaline that's shooting through your veins. 

the thought of seeing mingi at republic crosses your mind, making your heart beat a bit faster against your chest. republic records is a huge building, if you’re lucky, you won’t have to see him at all. your lives will be entirely separate and you can continue doing what you’ve been doing, pretending he’s an acquaintance whom you know nothing about. 

“we really should celebrate, though,” yunho interrupts your thoughts, “what are you guys doing tomorrow night? i heard there’s a really fun club in brooklyn.”

your and wooyoungs’ necks both snap at that, looking at yunho in disbelief. for him to want to go anywhere other than prince is unexpected, he loves it here, this has been his spot since he discovered it.

“you? a club?” wooyoung raises an eyebrow, “since when do you and clubs get along?”

“ivy’s friend from work told her about it,” yunho blinks, “this is a huge deal, what better excuse to check it out? i’ll get us a table and everything.”

you shrug your shoulders, “i’m down, why the hell not?”

you pick up your phone again, rereading the email. with it already being early october, you only have a couple of weeks to get your life in order before you start. you try to find excuses for why you’d start early, you didn’t know if record labels had busy seasons, or if holiday season would be one of them. 

the next night came quickly with you sleeping in for most of your saturday, the numerous celebratory shots bought for you last night doing nothing to make your morning somewhat productive. you needed to call your internship counselor, email the record label back, fill out paperwork, get yourself organized to actually start. 

instead you woke up four hours before your friends were coming over for the pregame, jeongin shirtless and still sound asleep next to you. you pulled your comforter down and kissed up his spine, soft pecks to coerce him into opening his eyes.

he groaned when you got halfway up his back, a soft but deep sound transferring from his chest to the pillow under his head.

“we only have four hours,” you mumbled between kisses, “get coffee and breakfast with me.”

“four hours is more than enough,” he moaned, “stop kissing me or we’re gonna have no time.”

you chuckled at that and swung your leg over his, straddling the backs of his legs. you smacked his butt playfully and he made a noise of annoyance, “get off of me, breadwinner, i have to go cook and clean.”

you laughed louder, leaning over to lay on top of his back, forcing your arms under his chest. he made too many jokes last night about how you were getting into your career so fast while he’d still be in school for another 3 years, making you the primary earner in your relationship. 

ever since that specific night you spent with jeongin a week ago, you’ve felt like you just started dating again. your relationship was rejuvenated, both of you feeling like you couldn’t get enough of one another. both of you noticed a difference but neither of you wanted to bring it up, scared it would stop the second wind of a honeymoon phase you were in. 

“get up, we have to go,” you said into his hair after putting your head directly beside his on the pillow, “no time to waste, it’s literally 4 pm.”

“4?” he asked in disbelief, his voice a bit louder. he clearly didn’t process when you’d said it a minute earlier, brain still fogged over from sleep, “i haven’t slept this late since i was in high school.”

you climbed off of him and left your bedroom, riley crossing the hallway from the bathroom to her bedroom. she looked you up and down before a laugh escapes her, eyes focusing on your hair. 

“did you just wake up?” she asked through her laugh, pausing in her steps. you nodded with your lips sealed tight. jeongin came up behind you, a yawn leaving his lips, and she laughed even harder.

“i think we spent our friday nights very differently,” she leaned against the doorway to the bathroom, “i’m sorry i can’t come tonight, chan really wants to take me to this pop up art exhibit in queens, he’s been talking about it for days.”

“no biggie, you were there last night. we’re going to a club anyways, neither of you would enjoy it,” you swung your hand in a don’t worry about it movement, leaning your back into jeongin’s chest. his arms secured themselves around your torso, sitting his head on top of yours. 

“you guys are gross!” she yelled at the display of affection, turning around to go back to her room quicker than she was before. you rolled your eyes and went into the bathroom to shower, jeongin’s arms still tightly wrapped around you. 

with only four hours to get ready, you stopped to get coffee and something to put in your stomach before heading back home. you hadn’t been to a club in awhile and the small part of your closet dedicated to clubbing outfits reflected that. you chose your shortest, skimpiest dress and a pair of boots, accessorized with all of your favorite jewelry. you wrapped your hair up in a quick updo, knowing even though there’s a slight chill to the city air at night, you’d be sweating in the club if you kept your hair down. your makeup was messy and dark, more sultry than you typically did it. you felt good, great even, you were ready to go out to celebrate yourself.

jeongin was the first to get to your apartment, only running home to change, and he looked delicious. you adored him in all black, it was your favorite color on him, especially when he had his arms visible. with a tank top on, silver chain and baggy jeans, you wanted to undress him in the small entryway. if someone else didn’t show up within minutes you weren’t sure if you’d make it to the club at all. 

“we don’t have enough time, stop looking at me like that, pervert,” he pointed a finger at you, reading your mind.

“i’m here!” yunho entered right after, and you looked back to jeongin with a pout. he mouthed i told you and you ripped your focus from him to yunho, who walked into the entryway with ivy right behind him. “i brought don julio and sour mix!”

“you know me so well, jeong yunho.”

an hour later there were six of you in your cramped kitchen, you’d taken far too many shots for a pregame. you were feeling the liquor, tequila always made you talkative, in combination with the reason for going out you were nearly bouncing off the walls of your apartment. when wooyung entered your apartment with san beside him, you were grateful riley had left the apartment when she did. you’d told wooyoung that riley wasn’t going tonight, but you definitely didn’t take into consideration everyone meeting up here beforehand nor did you think of the state san would be in.

you’d never seen him so… miserable. bags under his eyes, a slouch in his posture, he looked utterly defeated. you’d heard riley arguing with him over the phone plenty of times the past couple of weeks, which you assumed was because she ended things with him. you still hadn’t talked to her about it, you put all the context clues together enough to make out your own version of the story. seeing him so sad only confirmed what you’ve been thinking, if riley was here you’re sure that’d only make him feel worse. 

you all hopped in an uber together, heading to the club no earlier than 9:30. with almost an hour drive ahead of you, you made wooyoung connect his phone to the speakers, at least listening to good music on the way there to keep your energy up. by the time you got there your already buzzed mind had lessened a bit, which only left room for more shots.

yunho wasn’t lying when he said he’d set everything up. you got in with ease and an entire section was waiting for the six of you, the lights were dim save for the strobe lights covering every inch of the dance floor, leaving your table in the dark. a navy blue booth wrapped around the black table, which was covered with buckets of ice, bottles of liquor, and mixers that were brought over by bottle service. that was new to you, something you’d never experienced before, cheers surrounding your table with a huge sign that read ‘congratulations ki!’ 

as much as you were embarrassed from so much attention on you, you were overwhelmed with gratitude towards your friends for the gesture. tonight was already so good, so special, you wondered why you didn’t go clubbing more often.

“we didn’t get sour mix, how about a vodka soda?” jeongin asked from beside you, already holding the bottle of vodka in his left hand and the pitcher of club soda in his right. your face scrunched up but you nodded anyway, knowing the simple drink would get the job done. 

bass pounded through your blood, the loud music heard in your entire body. you all began mixing drinks, pouring shots, dancing along to the music around the table. after an hour's drive you desperately had to pee, you excused yourself and immediately began your hunt for the restroom. 

you passed the bar and yunho caught your eye, your eyebrow popped up in question as he leaned over the bar, face oddly close to the bartender. you recognized her, she was just at your table, delivering the drinks, and the gaze she kept on yunho the whole time was starting to make sense. you decided to leave it, putting the picture in your back pocket, and continued your search for the bathroom. 

when you got back jeongin handed you the drink he mixed for you, and your face scrunched up in disgust. on top of it not being your favorite thing to drink, he made it entirely too strong. 

“you will never be a bartender, ayen,” you stuck your tongue out, letting the first sip run its course through you. you felt the heat from the liquor run down your throat and sit in your stomach before it settled, allowing you to take another sip. 

“i even tried it, i didn’t think it was that bad,” jeongin counters, shrugging. 

“too strong?” san asked from the couch, “lemme try it.”

you handed your drink to him from across the table, and he took a sip through your straw. he let out a loud woo! that you knew meant it was too strong and you laughed, the bartender himself backing up your claim. he took a big swig of it and picked up the pitcher of cranberry juice, filling your glass back up to the top then handed it back to you. you gave it a good mix with your straw before trying it, the taste 10 times better than it was before.

“much better, feel like i should tip you for that,” you smiled and he let out a small chuckle, you wanted to pat yourself on the back for getting miserable san to smile. wooyoung was already somewhere on the dance floor and you let your gaze turn to the crowd in search of him, now feeling your buzz pick back up, you wanted to join him. 

“gonna go find wooyoung, join me,” you leaned down to jeongin who was sitting on the end of the booth and pecked him quickly, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the dance floor. 

you kept your hands linked as you began your search, pushing through the crowd, looking for the flopping mess of dark hair that was no doubt already dancing with someone. wooyoung was on the same level as you, if not more intoxicated, he took every shot with you before you had left the house.

you finally found him in the middle of the crowd, a girl with dark hair pressed to his front, a tall guy with blonde hair whose hands were glued to his hips behind him. you smiled, this was wooyoung in his element, a sight you always loved to see. wooyoung was the prime example you had of being yourself and doing as you pleased, fuck what anyone else thought. it’s why you kept him so close to you, he wasn’t just your biggest supporter but he pried you out of your small town shell with ease. 

you yelled to him over the music to steal his attention and he grabbed your hand over the girl in front of him. jeongin kept himself close to you, his hands on your own hips mimicking those on wooyoung’s. his eyes were glazed over, already in his element, drunk and clearly horny. you laughed, dancing along to the music with the four surrounding you. 

you switched partners a few times, jeongin did too, which took you by surprise. whenever he drank he always kept it to a minimum, never letting his walls fully come down, always cautious of what’s surrounding him. as you saw him dancing with the girl with the dark hair you knew he was feeling the liquor, going along with whatever was presented to him. unlike him, you did get jealous, keeping an eye on her arms that hung over his shoulders. there was space between their bodies, the opposite of how you were pressed between wooyoung and the blonde. 

“hello?” wooyoung said in your ear in shock, which was his language for what the hell is going on? wooyoung was used to you being flirty with him when you drank, how sometimes you’d use it to your advantage to get on jeongin’s nerves. what he’d never seen before is jeongin do it to you.

you shrugged and finished off your drink, keeping your empty glass close to you as you kept dancing, turning every few minutes to face either wooyoung or the blonde. jeongin stayed in your peripherals, his dancing was still innocent, you could read the impish look on his face as he kept his focus on you, knowing exactly what was running through your mind. 

his arm reached out for you and you grabbed it immediately, letting him pull you towards him, pressing his lips to yours harshly. he could feel the jealousy radiating through your body as his hands went to your lower back, your arms swung over his shoulders exactly how the girl’s were moments prior. 

“is my baby jealous?” he pulled away from your lips, pressing his lips to your ear so you could hear him clearly. your bodies swayed, his leg in the middle of yours, grinding yourselves against one another to the beat of the song.

“not even a little bit,” you huffed out the lie, your voice labored with need as his knee pressed between your legs. 

“not fun when it’s done to you, huh? thought you’d get me all worked up dancing with wooyoung?” his voice was deeper, sounding like velvet so close to your ear, “got you worked up instead.”

you grabbed his jaw and made him face you, kissing him instead. your bodies came to a still as the music pounded from his body into yours, just focused on each other and the taste of each other’s mouths. you didn’t care that you were in public, didn’t care that you were surrounded by so many people, you needed him now. 

“come get a drink with me!” wooyoung yelled, pulling the two of you out of your bubble, “stop fucking on the dance floor, it’s gross.”

“you’re one to talk,” jeongin replies with a smirk, eyes glancing over to the blonde he was just kissing a moment ago.

“save me, he’s a bad kisser,” wooyoung said quieter so only you and jeongin could hear, a specific volume with the music still blasting in your ears. 

you and jeongin both laughed, following him back through the crowd and over to the table. it was quieter at the table, your skin still vibrated with the rush from the dance floor, somehow you felt more drunk as the area felt calmer. you refilled your drink the way san had mixed it then made the same for jeongin who’s head was somewhere else, too.

“let’s take more shots,” wooyoung suggested, not giving anyone time to answer as he set up six shot glasses. san waved it off, not wanting one, and the rest of you stood around the table to take them. 

“where’s riley? i totally thought she’d be here,” ivy asked you after she took the shot back, sitting back down on the cushioned booth. you sat on the end, jeongin stood next to the booth. 

“she has a date with chan tonight,” you replied with a smirk, your words slurring, you picked up your glass to take a sip through the straw. 

“chan? i didn’t know they were seeing each other,” ivy’s eyebrows furrow and excitement floods through you, remembering how long it took to actually get them together. 

“finally, i’ve been trying to get them together for years! i’m so excited it’s finally happening,” you settled into the booth next to her, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“years? why the hell did it take so long?” ivy moved her perfectly curled hair behind her ear to hear you better, zoned in on the conversation. as she batted her long eyelashes you couldn’t help but think how lucky yunho is to have her, she’s gorgeous.

you got into the story, telling ivy from start to finish how riley and chan finally got together, the alcohol helping you to not spare a single detail. jeongin interrupted you and you waved him off, too immersed in your conversation with ivy for whatever he had to say, he would have to wait.

“who?” you heard san’s voice and your blood ran cold, you totally forgot he was here. you could’ve been a little quieter, you didn’t have to air out riley’s business with her ex situationship right there. embarrassment floods through you, your cheeks heating up. 

“san, i-” 

“who are you talking about, ki? who’s been seeing chan for the past two weeks?” he was sitting straight up, shoulders back, and it made you slump. you wanted to crawl inside your skin and never come out. jeongin stood closer to you at hearing san’s tone and the chill within it, he didn’t like it one bit. 

“i think you already know who, san,” you took a breath, “i didn’t realize you didn’t know?” your brain was doing somersaults, you’d been hearing them argue for the past two weeks but you assumed it was because she broke things off with him. the uneasiness that consumed him, the glint in his eyes told you he really didn’t know about anything you were talking about, he had no idea riley was seeing chan. 

it’s not like riley and san dated, riley and chan weren’t dating either, you assumed. they were just seeing one another … which is more than what you thought riley and san were doing. at the end of the day, riley was still single, free to see whoever she wants. 

wooyoung who was standing behind san bent down to his ear level with a hand on his shoulder, saying things you couldn’t hear. tension laid over the table like a blanket, and you felt microscopic. you were embarrassed, regretful, and fucking drunk. 

as san took a swig from the bottle of whiskey, you could see his entire demeanor change. the misery he’d been sporting since he walked through your apartment door was replaced with darkness, some sort of menacing fire as his eyes tore through the crowd. ivy was shifting uncomfortably next to you, eyes glancing up to yunho, not knowing what to do in this situation either. 

san stood, taking another swig of the bottle, and wooyoung had a satisfied smirk on his face, still stood behind the barrier of the booth. he patted him on the shoulder over the gap, then made his way over to the table, ushering san to join him. as they left for the dance floor you glanced up to jeongin, eyes wide.

“what the hell did i just do?” you asked him, still stiff in your seat. 

jeongin shrugged, “he seems fine now. i’m sure you’ll find out from ri later, don’t let it get to you, let’s go dance.”

you stood, flattening out your dress, beckoning your buzz to return on a more positive note.

“i think we’re gonna head out,” yunho said from the booth, adorning an apologetic smile. 

you pouted, “yunho! it's too early!”

“i can only take clubs for so long, you know that,” he waved his hand, “i already took care of the bill, my treat.”

you gasped, “yun-”

“don’t say a word, i love you, kid,” he stood, him and ivy ushering themselves out of the booth, “congratulations ki, you really deserve it.”

he envelops you in a hug, planting a kiss on your head and you physically melt into his hug, tears quickly coming to your lash line. you will them away as you look up to your tallest friend, “love you too, yun, thank you so much.”

you hug ivy and they both say goodbye to jeongin, leaving the two of you on your own. you glance at each other, both wearing blank expressions, before you crack smiles at the same time. 

“should we take another shot?”

[sokuly419]

I don’t typically make posts like this myself, but maybe some others would like to hear it. This is something of a stream of thought so sorry if it seems choppy and whatever.

I’m not going to sugar coat it. This election was absolutely awful. I know we’re all fucking terrified. We’re all grieving. Famous show hosts to politicians on both sides of the aisle are in tears with us.

I bawled before they called it. I cried once Trump broke 100 electoral votes well before Harris. I knew it was over by time I went to bed. My best friend tried to talk me out of it, telling me it wasn’t over until it was. I absolutely bawled when I saw 210. My wife held me while I just sobbed in a way I haven’t in a very long time.

I am terrified. And heartbroken. And pissed.

Now… we have to live. Trust me, I’m having those thoughts too. Many of us are. But the biggest middle finger you can give to them is to stay alive. They want us dead. We know that. Don’t make it easy for them. Don’t make any of this easy for them.

Take your time to cry, scream, lose control for a moment. But don’t kill yourself. You will have a place in fighting back that no one else can take. You don’t have to be on the frontlines. Just simply staying alive is fighting back and if that’s all you can give, we’ll take it.

Listen to your favorite song one more time. And maybe again after that. And again. Rewatch your favorite show or movie. Do it a few times so you don’t forget your favorite scenes or lines. Read your favorite book or fanfic. Escape for a bit. Make your favorite comfort food.

Are you looking forward to a new show? A new season of a show you like? A new movie maybe? Is one of your favorite musicians releasing new music soon? Do you have pets? They won’t understand and they’ll miss you.

I don’t care what you have to do to keep seeing the next day, just do it. I know it’s hard. I really, really do. I’ve been there. I’ve tried more than once. I still have those thoughts. And those thoughts got bad again with the outcome of the election. We’ve already lost so many people because of it, there’s no denying it.

I hope this can reach at least one person who needs it. If this can save even one person from taking their life, I’ll take it.

Right now, I’m looking forward to season 2 of Arcane. I rewatched season 1. A She-Ra rewatch is in my sights too. I’ve been listening to new (to me) music. If you have Spotify, the daylist is a good way to get new music through the day. I have pets and they wouldn’t understand. I can’t do that to them. And it would devastate my wife. And my family. I have yet to reread a couple of my favorite fics.

Take it from someone who lost a best friend to suicide. The grief… it’s not something that can be explained. You will be missed. Your best friend will scream and cry and cuss out every deity there is. They will feel like they failed you in every way. I don’t wish that kind of grief on anyone. If I didn’t have the list of things I’m pushing through for, the experience I went through definitely would make me think long and hard about it.

Now is the time we organize and fight back. And we can’t do it without you. You’re fighting back by living, so live. And keep living. Stay as safe as you possibly can. I love you, stranger reading this. I see you. Let’s hold hands or hug or whatever and just breathe together for a minute. We’re alive. And we have to stay that way for as long as possible.

Don’t forget: the first Pride was a riot.

We got this. We’re going to do it terrified. But we’re gonna do it. We have to. We owe it to those before us.

[abbbbyyy]

Mozart's In The Dark

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne/Batman(husband)

Summery: You and Batman get hit with a gas that makes you temporality unable to move. You pass the time in fun little conversation.

Rating: Fluff

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

"I would love to kick you, but I can even feel my legs." You say, your voice strained and dry. A sadistic laugh echoes through the alley, the gas thick and suffocating in the air around you. Bruce's eyes, usually filled with fiery determination, are now glazed over, his body limp beside you.

You glance around, trying to get your bearings. The world around us is a blur of shadows and distorted sounds. The alley is narrow, lined with dumpsters and graffiti-covered walls. Above, the moon casts a feeble glow through the maze of buildings, providing just enough light to make out the outline of your attackers retreating into the distance.

"Let's do something to pass the time. Maybe it'll help keep our spirits up."

Bruce's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he doesn't argue. "Alright," he says, his voice a bit more clear than before.

So you start to sing, "Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo…"

Bruce's eyes widen. "Really?"

"What? It's catchy." you laugh.

Bruce groans. "Catchy doesn't mean good."

"Fine," You concede, trying to think of something else. "How about this one?" You begin to sing the Batman theme song.

Bruce's eyes roll back into his head. "Oh, please, no. Not that."

"What?" you ask, feigning innocence. "It's your theme song, after all."

"And that's why it's the last thing I want to hear right now," Bruce says, his tone light despite the gravity of your situation.

"Fine," you say, pouting a little. "Then what do you want to hear?"

Bruce thinks for a moment, his breaths shallow and forced. "How about something from your playlist?"

"Alright," you say, "but only if it's not something too cheesy."

Bruce smiles faintly. "Cheesy? You mean like 'Batdance'?"

"Don't you dare," you threaten.

He chuckles weakly. "I was just testing you."

You lean your head back, the cold pavement providing little comfort. "What's on your playlist then, Bruce?"

He takes a deep, painful breath. "Well, some Mozart, some Led Zeppelin."

"Mozart?" You raise an eyebrow. "I didn't take you for a classical kind of guy."

"And you married me," he says with a smirk, despite the gravity of our situation. "You should have known I had layers."

"But Bruce, my beloved, my soulmate, you listen to Mozart?" you ask, your voice filled with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"What did you think I would listen to?" he asks, his voice a barely-there whisper as the gas starts to wear off.

"I don't know," you admit, "Maybe something more… brooding? Rock? Something emo."

Bruce lets out a small laugh, the sound surprisingly warm in the cold, desolate alley. "Emo, huh?"

"Well, you know, the whole 'Dark Knight' vibe," you tease, trying to keep the mood light.

Bruce shakes his head slightly, his movements still sluggish. "You think I sit in the batcave, brooding to emo music?"

"I didn't say that," you retort, "But it's not like I've ever seen you rocking out to Mozart while fighting crime."

"And you've seen me with emo music?" Bruce says, a small smile on his lips.

"Well, no, I haven't," you admit, "but I can imagine it."

Bruce's head turns slightly towards you, his eyes focusing with a bit more clarity. "Alright, I'll play along. What song would you pick for me?"

you think for a moment, a smirk playing on your lips. "Let's go with something Skillet, I'm thinking "Hero"."

Bruce's eyes widen. "Really?"

"What?" you ask, playing coy. "You don't think it fits?"

"Mozart," Bruce repeats, his voice gaining a bit more strength with each word, "has a certain… elegance to it. Plus, it helps me think."

Youlook at him, surprised by his revelation. "Elegance? In the heat of battle?"

"No," Bruce says firmly, "I'm not looking for a song for the heat of battle. I'm looking for something to keep me sane."

"Sane?" you repeat, the word feeling foreign in the chaos that is your life.

Bruce nods. "Sane."

"I married a complete nutjob," you murmur, the smirk on your face growing wider.

Bruce's chuckle is barely a breath, but it's there. "You say that like it's a surprise," he says.

You feel the tension in your body start to ease as the gas wears off. "Well, you do wear a cape and fight crime at night," you say, a hint of laughter in your voice.

"It's not a cape," he says, his tone mock-serious. "It's a cloak."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Wayne," you tease.

"How much longer do you think we have?" Bruce asks, his voice still strained but with a touch more urgency.

You struggle to sit up, pushing through the lingering heaviness in your limbs. "I'm not sure," you say, gritting your teeth against the pain. "But we need to move before they come back."

Bruce nods, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he tries to push himself up with his arms. "I think…I think I have an idea," he says, his voice still strained.

You watch as he fumbles with his utility belt, the leather straps and gadgets blurring before your eyes. "What are you doing?" you ask, your own voice still thick with the remnants of the gas.

"I have a shot of epinephrine," Bruce says through clenched teeth, his movements slow and deliberate. "It's for emergencies like this. It might help counteract the effects of the gas."

You watch as he fumbles with the cap, his trembling hand finally managing to remove it. The silver needle gleams in the moonlight, a beacon of hope in this otherwise grim situation.

"Here," he says, offering it to you with a forced smile. "You first."

You take the epinephrine from his hand, the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine. You know the drill; we've practiced this before. But never in a real situation. You inject yourself in the thigh, hissing as the liquid shoots into my system. For a moment, everything goes white, and then, as if a switch has been flipped, the world snaps back into focus.

Bruce watches you closely, his eyes searching for any signs of improvement. "How do you feel?" he asks, his voice stronger now.

"Better," you reply, taking a deep breath and sitting up with a grimace. "A lot better." The epinephrine is coursing through your veins, burning away the last remnants of the paralyzing gas. You hand the epinephrine back to him, and he takes it with a nod, injecting himself with the same determination.

You stand up slowly, your legs wobbly but cooperating. Bruce does the same, his cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. He looks at me, a question in his eyes. "Can you run?"

You nod, taking a tentative step. "Yeah, I think so."

Bruce stands with more ease than you expect, the epinephrine working its magic. "Good," he says, "because we need to get out of here before the cops show up. Too many questions we can't answer."

With a smirk, "Hey, start playing your Mozart for dramatic affect," you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

"Hon," he warns, his voice a bit stronger now.

You shrug, smiling. "What?"

Bruce rolls his eyes before turning serious. "We need to get back to the manor."

The sirens are closer now, the red and blue lights dancing through the narrow gaps between buildings. The gas has almost fully dissipated, and we can move more freely. Bruce takes your arm over his shoulder his grip firm but gentle, as you make your way out of the alley. Your movements are swift and calculated, years of experience guiding you through the shadows and away from the approaching authorities.

[slut4evanpeters]

One Way or Another

pre death!tate langdon x reader

song i recommend listening to/based on: one way or another by blondie

warnings: stalking, obsession

word count: 673

notes: enjoy this drabble guys! i was listening to my blondie vinyl and immediately wrote this🙏

The final bell rings, echoing down the hallway like a calling card just for Tate. He slinks out of his last class, letting the bustling crowd swallow him up, using it as his cover. Everyone’s moving, laughing, jostling for the best spots on their bus rides home. No one sees him. No one ever does. Except maybe you.

You used to, at least.

It feels like years since your eyes last met his that once looked at him like he was more than just another lost kid at Westfield High. You were his other half, his better half. But now, you’re untouchable, one of the popular kids, adored, almost worshiped. And he… he’s left in the shadows, cast aside like a broken toy.

One way or another, he thinks, pushing through the swarm of bodies. He’s going to find you. You can’t stay hidden from him, not forever.

Tate steps outside, onto the cracked pavement of the school parking lot. His eyes dart around until they land on you, standing with a group of friends, laughing. That laugh—the one that once belonged to him, that’s now thrown freely at everyone but him.

There’s something unsettlingly perfect about you today. Maybe it’s the way the late afternoon sun hits your hair, giving it that halo effect, or the light wind tugging at your jacket, making you look like a vision from some golden dream. He can feel his chest tighten, his fingers twitch. You’re so close, but you’re untouchable. He doesn’t want to just look at you. He wants more. He wants everything.

When you finally get onto the bus, his heart quickens. He slips back into the crowd, just far enough behind to stay invisible but close enough to catch every turn of your head, every flicker of movement. He can’t sit still; his fingers clench and unclench. The desire to reach out, to grab you by the arm, tell you everything that’s twisting inside him, is almost overwhelming. But no, he needs to be patient. You'll come to him.

The bus pulls away, and he’s quick to his bike. Trailing it from a distance as it winds through the city, watching it move block by block. He knows the route by heart, knows where it’ll stop, where it’ll speed up. When you finally get off, you don’t even glance back. But Tate’s there, slipping through the streets, hiding in shadows.

You head into a convenience store, chatting with friends as you browse through rows of magazines and candy. Tate leans against a wall outside, waiting, listening to the buzz of a flickering neon light above him, the hum of his own thoughts mixing in with the static.

He watches as you and your friends move toward the bus stop again, laughing at some joke he’ll never know. The laughter twists something inside him. You used to laugh with him like that, let him in on your world. You were his girl, his muse. But now, it’s like he’s a stranger to you. And yet, he’s closer to you than anyone else. He knows every inch of this city, every shortcut, every street you walk down. He’s memorized your patterns, your quirks. He’s in your shadow, in the air you breathe.

When you get home, he watches from across the street, from under the shadow of a tree. The light in your bedroom flickers on, and he imagines you pulling off your coat, tossing it onto that same chair you always throw it on. He’s seen it through the window enough times to know.

Inside, you’re probably brushing your hair, maybe glancing out the window every now and then. Sometimes, he swears you look right at him. He feels that flicker of hope, the thrill that you might know he’s there, that you might want him to be.

The house goes dark. Tate feels his heart slow, his gaze lingering on your window. One day, you’ll see him again. One way or another, he’ll make sure of it. You’re his, and no one else’s.

[say-hi-intrepid-heroes]

.

[skitskatdacat63]

During the 2020 shut-in era, I basically only listened to Coldplay and god the amnt of emotional nostalgia I get from listening to their music is so

[eggmeralda]

I wish there was a way you could put like. every song in the world on shuffle

[hplonesomeart]

Old record player spin my beloved <3

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[zooophagous]

So why do you hate the advertising industry?

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.

Advertising is a polluting, censoring, anti educational and anti art industry at it's very core. It destroys human connections, suppresses human thought and makes us hate our own bodies. It ads no value, actively detracts from value, and serves no real purpose and I believe it should be almost if not entirely banned.

[brazilian-vampyra]

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[maulfucker]

Tag ten people you wanna get to know better

Tagged by @better-call-maul hii !!

Relationship status: extremely single :] I have no interest in dating

Favorite color: either green or dark greenish blue, depends on the mood

Song stuck in my head: Cetapensâno by Carne Doce has been stuck in my head for at least the last three days (linking a live version because I love this band's live performances)

Last song I listened to: was listening to Açaí by Carne Doce on repeat. Vibing hard especially at the last half. Sounds <3

Three favorite foods: dark chocolate, every sandwich I make, this one flavor pizza that's like. cheese + ham + slices of boiled egg + peas or green bellpepper + onion (+ olives but that's in every pizza to me) (we call it portuguesa but lately many pizza places haven't been adding green to it)

Last thing I googled duckduckwent: man wearing apron (images) (I needed a visual reference for an art)

Dream trip: uh. idk I don't think much about traveling. Maybe a giant trip to visit all my internet friends. Or uh. Go back in time 6+ years and then go to Rio de Janeiro to visit the National Museum before it burned down </3

Anything I want right now: magical machine that can turn all my art ideas into arts immediately without me having to draw them!!!!! Or maybe some chocolate

Tagging.... whoever wants to do this :3

[pucksandpower]

The Girlfriend Test

Lando Norris x girlfriend!Reader

Summary: no new LN merch is deemed ready for sale unless it passes the girlfriend test (or in which you are Lando’s favorite hoodie thief and the sight of another driver’s brand on you drives him just a little bit crazy)

You hear the front door open and close, followed by the sounds of Lando rummaging around in the entryway. “Babe, I’m home!” He calls out.

You’re curled up on the couch in his latest hoodie design, a soft charcoal grey number with black sleeves and his LN logo embroidered over the heart.

“In here!” You reply. Lando comes into the living room and smiles when he sees you wearing his new creation.

“Well hello there, hoodie thief,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick peck on the lips before flopping down on the couch next to you. “So I see you found my newest sample.”

You grin and snuggle further into the super soft fleece. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is my hoodie now.”

Lando laughs and tugs lightly on the hood. “Oh is it now? I could’ve sworn this was a prototype I brought home from my design meeting a few days ago.”

“Nope, definitely mine,” you say cheekily. “It’s so cozy I don’t think I can ever take it off.”

“In that case, I guess it passes the girlfriend test with flying colors,” Lando declares. At your confused look, he elaborates. “Oh, I never told you about the girlfriend test? I can’t launch a new LN design until you have stolen it out of my closet. That’s how I know for sure it’s comfy enough for my fans.”

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. “You’re telling me every hoodie so far has passed this supposed test?”

“You got it,” Lando grins. “I’ll leave the samples laying around and if you end up snagging one and wearing it all the time, I know it’s prime merchandise.”

You think back and realize it’s true — Lando’s hoodies have a habit of migrating into your wardrobe. The papaya one is your go-to for grocery store runs. The tie-dye version is your favorite for lazy Sundays. Even the bold purple hoodie he released last month has already earned a permanent place on your desk chair.

“So you mean to tell me this was all part of your master plan?” You ask in mock offense. “And here I thought I was sneakily stealing your comfiest clothes.”

“Baby, if I really didn’t want you wearing my stuff, I wouldn’t make it so tempting to take,” Lando says sincerely, wrapping an arm around you. “But it makes me so happy to see you in my designs, wearing my brand.”

You cuddle into his shoulder. “That’s really sweet, babe.”

“Anything for my number one fan and favorite hoodie model,” he says, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

You snuggle together in contented silence for a few minutes, your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“So, how was the simulator today?” You ask. “Get some good practice in for Monza this weekend?”

Lando nods. “Yeah, had a really solid session. Tweaked a few things with the setup that I think will help with the low downforce.”

“Nice,” you say. “Maybe another podium this week?”

“We’ll see,” Lando replies. “Ferrari looked quick in Spa so it could be tough. But I feel good going into the weekend.”

“Well, I know you’ll kill it babe,” you say supportively. Lando smiles gratefully and pulls you closer.

“But anyway, enough about F1. How was your day off?” He asks.

You launch into a recap of your relaxed day — sleeping in, catching up on chores, and working on some creative projects you’ve had on the backburner. Lando listens intently, asking questions and commenting on the new songs and recipes you’re dying to try. The conversation flows easily, as it always does between you two.

Before you know it, Lando’s stomach rumbles loudly and you both crack up. “I guess that means it’s dinnertime,” you say, checking your phone. “Pizza sound good?”

“You read my mind,” Lando replies. While you call in the usual order from your favorite local pizza joint, Lando queues up Netflix and scrolls through options for tonight’s viewing.

Thirty minutes later you’re back on the couch, the coffee table littered with pizza boxes and cans of soda. Lando hits play on an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and you settle in, toes tucked under his legs to stay cozy.

You’re only halfway through the episode when you feel Lando’s gaze on you. You turn and find him staring at you wearing his newest hoodie creation, a small smile on his lips.

“What’s that look for?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

Lando shakes his head, the smile growing wider. “Nothing really. Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilt your head curiously and he continues. “I have my dream job, getting to race cars for a living. And then I come home to you and … I don’t know. It just feels really good. Like everything is kind of falling into place.”

You set down your pizza slice and cuddle up to him. “Aww babe. That’s so sweet.” You give him a greasy kiss on the cheek. “I’m the lucky one you know. I get to see you living your dream every day. And then I get to be here to celebrate the wins with you and cheer you up after the tough days. It’s pretty amazing.”

Lando wraps both arms around you in a hug. “Love you so much,” he says softly.

“Love you more,” you whisper back, your head tucked perfectly under his chin once again.

***

The next evening, you’re sprawled across the bed browsing on your phone when you hear Lando come home.

“Honey, I’m home!” He calls out in a sing-song voice. You grin, expecting him to come give you a kiss. But instead you hear his footsteps stop abruptly.

“Babe, what … is that?” Lando asks slowly.

You look up confused. “What do you mea-”

Then you spot what he’s staring at in horror: the soft teal hoodie you’re wearing with an embroidered Enchanté logo across the front.

“Oh this?” You say casually. “It’s from Daniel’s new merch drop. The fleece is so soft, I couldn’t resist snagging one.”

Lando’s jaw drops open. “You … you bought a hoodie? From a competing merch brand?”

You stifle a laugh at how seriously Lando is taking this. “Well yeah, you gotta support your friends right? And I told you how comfy it looked in his posts.”

Lando just blinks slowly, looking utterly betrayed. You almost feel bad for riling him up.

“Babe, come on, don’t look at me like that! You know I’m your number one fan.” You get up and go to hug him, but Lando dodges you.

“Nope. No hugs until that … that enemy hoodie comes off,” he says dramatically.

Now you really have to hold back your laughter. “Lando, don’t be silly.”

But he crosses his arms and sticks his chin up. “I’m dead serious, Y/N. My own girlfriend, wearing another man’s merch!” He shakes his head in despair.

You bite your lip, trying not to smile at his antics. Time to have some more fun with this.

“Well if you’re going to be like that, maybe I’ll just keep it on,” you say nonchalantly, snuggling back into the ridiculously soft fleece.

Lando’s eyes go wide. “You wouldn’t dare!”

You raise your eyebrows challengingly. “Try me.”

You stare each other down for a few tense moments, before Lando huffs loudly.

“Fine then. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” And with that ominous statement, he lunges forward and lifts you up, tossing you over his shoulder.

“Lando!” You shriek through laughter. “Put me down!”

But he marches down the hall determinedly, you still slung over his shoulder. He brings you into the living room and gently tosses you onto the couch. Before you can react, he rips the Enchanté hoodie up over your head in one swift move.

“Lando!” You squeal, trying to reach for the hoodie, but he’s quicker. In a flash, he has the offending article of clothing in his grip.

“How could you bring this … this enemy propaganda into our home?” Lando accuses dramatically. He holds the hoodie between two fingers like it’s contaminated.

You have to press a hand over your mouth to contain your giggles. Lando looks utterly scandalized at the sight of you in his rival’s merch.

“I’m sorry babe, but you left me no choice,” Lando says solemnly. And with that, he crosses the room, opens the fireplace, and tosses the hoodie in.

You gasp loudly. “Lando Norris, did you just burn my hoodie?”

“I had to protect the sanctity of this home! Can’t have you falling for another man’s branding,” Lando exclaims. But you can see his facade cracking as he fights back a smile of his own.

You get up from the couch and poke him in the chest. “You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?”

Lando grins sheepishly. “Maybe. But you love me.”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight back your own smile. “Debatable at the moment,” you joke.

Lando pouts and gives you his best puppy dog eyes. “Come onnnn, you know I’m your favorite driver.”

You pretend to think about it for a moment. “Hmm well Daniel does give the best hugs ...”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims and tackles you into a bear hug. You dissolve into giggles as he squeezes you tight and sways you back and forth.

“Nope, absolutely not allowed,” he declares, still holding you captive.

You lean back to look up at him with a smile. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you’re my girl and I don’t share,” Lando states matter-of-factly. His eyes are soft now as he gazes down at you.

You feel your heart melt a little. You stand on your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. “You’re right, I’m all yours Lando.”

His answering smile is dazzling. But then a thought seems to occur to him and a grin spreads across his face.

In one smooth motion, he strips off the neon green hoodie he’s wearing, leaving just a black t-shirt underneath. Before you can react, he pulls it down over your head, enveloping you in soft fleece that smells like him.

“There. That’s better,” Lando declares satisfied.

You snuggle happily into Lando’s worn hoodie, his warmth still lingering in the fabric. Looking down, you recognize it as the exclusive design he wore constantly last season.

Lando’s eyes crease with happiness as he looks at you swimming in his hoodie. “That’s my girl,” he says softly, pulling you close again.

You nuzzle into his chest, perfectly content.

“Am I forgiven for my momentary lapse in loyalty?” You ask cheekily, peering up at him.

Lando pretends to consider this for a moment. “Hmmm, I guess I can let it slide this one time,” he teases back. “But only because you look so damn cute in my clothes.”

You smile and tighten your arms around him. You sway together slowly, Lando humming tunelessly under his breath. The fireplace crackles gently beside you.

After a few moments, Lando speaks again, his voice quiet. “You know I was only joking around before, right? You can wear whatever you want babe.”

You lean back to meet his gaze. His brown eyes are warm but serious now.

You touch his cheek softly. “Of course I know that Lando. Your hoodies might be the comfiest, but they’re not the only clothes I own.”

Lando nods, looking relieved that you understand. “I just never want you to feel like you have to choose between me and your own style or interests.” His voice is earnest. “I want you to always feel free to be yourself.”

Your heart swells at his words. You reach up and kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, Lando is smiling again.

“Thanks babe,” you say. “That really means a lot to me. And same to you, obviously.”

Lando grins. “Of course, it’s you and me against the world! Oh, and McLaren against the other teams,” he adds cheekily.

You laugh and snuggle back into his chest. “Yes, McLaren over all,” you agree, just to make him happy.

“That’s my girl,” Lando says again, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.