#best earbuds in market

[mytenproducts]

5 Best Earbuds In Market 2024 For IPhone Check Out Now

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[writersdrug]

For bartender ghost and waitress reader, what about some fluff? Small things like rolling silverware or saving some of the food from messed up orders for each other when they know they haven’t eaten?? Also, your writing is absolutely phenomenal and it is keeping me going!! Keep up the great work!

Bulleted post bc I'm lazyyyy but thank you babes!!

Simon's job revolves around the bar, and yours revolves around the restaurant floor. Still, that doesn't stop the two of you from mixing your sidework together, just to have extra time with each other. Price never seems to mind, as long as the work gets done.

You'll stand behind the bar and chop the citrus fruits the way Simon showed you, while he replaces the empty kegs and cleans the taps.

Rolling silverware was no longer his job once you were hired, but he regularly joins you at a booth after your shift is over and helps. He polishes the utensils while you roll them in napkins, and he listens as you ramble on about your day.

Before the bar opens, when he takes his smoke break, you take a snack break. Sitting on the stairs in the alleyway, eating the loaded fries Soap made, while he leans against the brick wall of the adjacent building. You badger him with questions about his time in the task force, and he begrudgingly answers them all (he's preening at the way you listen with such interest).

Sometimes he'll text you before you show up for the day: "need some fruit and bitters for the bar, Sevvy's?" And you know to meet him a bit earlier at the bar, so the two of you can head to the corner market down a few blocks. He carries the basket while you dig through the crates of fruit, insisting on picking the best ones - if it was just him, he'd grab the ones off the top that don't appear to be rotting. But it's you and him, and he's happy to let you drag him from place to place and take up all his time.

You once video called him late in the morning. He immediately worried something was wrong - but when you just started your usual chit-chat, propping your phone against your bathroom mirror and doing your makeup, he realized you were just being domestic. And it warmed his soul more than he cared to admit.

Now, it was a weekly occurrence. You start a video call with him, and the both of you talk as you go about your day. He'll only stop when he has to run into the brewery and discuss the next order with the brewmaster, but even then, he's got one earbud in and his phone tucked into his pocket.

Not much but enjoy!

[v6quewrlds]

HOMIESEXUAL, BURROW & IOSIVAS.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow/andrei iosivas x reader. word count⠀⁎⠀10.3k.

summary⠀⁎⠀joe burrow comes and goes through your life like the tides. just when you think you've caught him, he slips away from your grasp. just when you think you've finally moved on, he sneaks back in with empty promises. as if things couldn't get any messier, enter andrei iosivas, joe's wide receiver.

author's note⠀⁎⠀huge thank you to @xolilyxo for saving my life with this idea <3 i haaaate writing meet-cutes/first dates so bear with me for the first part of this fic. joe is genuinely horrible in this one sorry lmao but i love toxic!joe and this was so fun to write. will be taking a little bit of a break from this blog so take this as an apology <3 warnings⠀⁎⠀some usage of y/n, vicious cycles, situationships, reader needs to stand up, 18+ mdni, smut, angst, fingering, a singular spank, backshots!, choking, empty promises, joe will say anything for a nut, condoms used as metaphors lollll, no real ending bc i couldn't choose.

You adjusted your earbuds, the pounding bass of your workout playlist keeping pace with your sprints on the treadmill. The burning in your lungs was a familiar sensation, a small price to pay for the endorphin rush that washed over your tense muscles.

Your attention was squarely focused on your sprints and breathing, exhaling sharply as you watched the clock on the treadmill count down to the end of your cardio session. The chime signaling the end of your workout pierced through the music, and you slowed to a jog, taking a moment to catch your breath and lower your heartbeat.

As you lowered the speed and incline to a brisk walk, you felt a presence beside you. You glanced over to find Andrei, the Bengals' wide receiver, hopping onto the treadmill next to you. His eyes lit up when he saw you, and a smile slowly spread across his face in recognition.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and easy. You took in the sight of him, the tattoos on his left arm flexing as he pressed the start button on the machine. “Y/N, right?”

The two of you had met a few times in passing at games and parties, but you never really had a chance to get to know him beyond small talk. “Yeah. You're Yoshi?” you said with a smile, using the nickname you had heard the team float around him.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Andrei, but Yoshi's cool. I didn't know you came to this gym.” He matched your pace as you walked side by side, your legs moving in unison.

“Yeah, it’s convenient, for when I’m in town for work and don’t want to miss a workout. How about you? How’s your first off-season in the league treating you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inhaled and exhaled as intentionally as you could.

Andrei’s smile grew. “It’s been intense, but I’m loving every second of it. Gets a little lonely without the team around though. How about you? You work with Sam's fiancee, right?”

“Jess? Yeah. She was my RA during my freshman year. We work in marketing together. She’s the one who talked me into joining her in Cincinnati after I graduated. Best decision I ever made, really,” you replied.

Andrei nodded, his gaze flickering to the screen of his treadmill as he cranked up the speed, long, tanned legs still in a walk despite the speed increase. “I'm still getting used to the city, but the people here are great. And the fans are crazy about football, which is pretty awesome to be a part of.” He took a sip of his water, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before returning to the display in front of him. You couldn't help but notice the way his biceps bulged as he lifted the bottle to his mouth.

“I don't wanna keep you from your workout, but it was nice seeing you, Andrei.” you said, your racing from more than just the cardio. You stepped off the treadmill, your legs feeling like jelly as you headed for the locker room.

“Hold up,” Andrei called after you, his voice filled with a gentle urgency. He quickly followed you, his eyes searching yours. “This is kind of random, but would you be down to grab lunch or something sometime?” His question hung in the air, charged with an undercurrent of hope.

“I’d like that,” you said, a genuine smile playing on your lips. You felt a sudden warmth spread through your body, and you hoped the fluster in your voice wasn’t too obvious. Andrei’s eyes lit up, and he immediately offered to exchange numbers. You swapped phones and tapped in the digits with fingers that trembled slightly from the excitement of the moment.

The next few days, the two of you texted back and forth, coordinating your schedules. It was a delicate dance, considering your busy lives, but somehow, it worked. You found yourselves with a mutually free afternoon and decided to meet at a quiet spot, a hole-in-the-wall burger joint that had been recommended to Andrei by some of his teammates.

At first, you didn't recognize the address or the name of the burger joint. But as you pulled up to the nondescript building, the heavenly scent of sizzling meat and the sound of laughter spilling out from inside sent your memory hurtling back to nearly a year ago.

You had come here with Joe once.

Joe was a waxing and waning fixture in your life, coming and going with the tides of the football season. The two of you had first met when Joe was drafted by the Bengals, and you quickly recognized the pull of his charismatic orbit. His charm and easy confidence had drawn you in, and your friendship grew into a passionate, secretive not-quite-relationship that had always been tinged with the bittersweet frustration of knowing it couldn’t last.

The league was unforgiving, and Joe had been clear about his priorities - football, family, and his foundation - none of which included space for you. But as the months went on, you found yourself hoping that maybe he would get his head out of his ass. As if he would suddenly wake up and realize that he did have a little space for you in his very short list of priorities.

But there wasn't space. Joe Burrow was a creature of habit, and football was his first love. He'd told you that himself, more than once. The season had taken precedence over your somewhat casual arrangement, and by the time summer rolled around, it had all but fizzled out like the last whispers of a forgotten promise.

Now, as you sat across from Andrei, the smell of greasy burgers and fries swirling around you two, you felt a pang of guilt. You would have had to be blind to miss the way Andrei's brown eyes lit up when he talked about his day and listened eagerly to your lame office stories. He was so earnest, so present, in a way Joe was incapable of being - not that it was the quarterback's intentional doing.

The two of you talked about everything from your families to your favorite movies, and it was easy, comfortable. Andrei had a way of making you feel heard that you hadn't felt with Joe. He wasn't distracted by the shadow of football, his mind wasn't a million miles away on the field. He was right here with you, in this moment. And when he reached out to steal a fry from your plate with a dimple you hadn't noticed before, you felt a jolt of something you hadn't felt in a long time—true, uncomplicated happiness.

“Yo, earth to Andrei! You okay, man?” Tee Higgins’ teasing voice cut through the air as the team gathered around their lockers post-workout. Andrei had been lost in his thoughts, his eyes glazed over as he replayed the events of the past few days texting with you.

Andrei snapped out of his daze, his cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and embarrassment. “Yeah, my bad, guys. Just had a good session out there.” The lie rolled off his tongue, but the smirks from his teammates told him they weren’t fooled.

“Oh, I bet you had a good session, alright,” Charlie said, waggling his eyebrows. Their side of the locker room erupted into laughter, and even Andrei couldn’t resist a chuckle despite the roll of his eyes.

“Leave him alone, he’s just got a crush is all,” Chase Brown chimed in, slapping Andrei on the shoulder.

Andrei felt the weight of his words and his cheeks grew even warmer. He knew he was being obvious, but he couldn’t help it. You had consumed his every thought since your first real conversation at the gym. The way you had looked at him, the way your laugh had filled the quiet moments between your words, it was intoxicating. He hadn’t felt this way about someone since high school.

“She's older too, ain't she? Like by two years?” Tee said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Andrei nodded, his face growing hotter by the second.

“Yeah, but that's not a big deal, right?” he managed to get out.

Chase laughed. “Who? Jess' friend? That's cool, she's a catch for sure. But why’re you blushing so hard, man?”

Andrei shrugged it off, trying to keep his cool. “It's nothing. Just met up with her a few days ago, you know how it is.”

“Oh, he's gone,” Charlie exclaimed, grinning as he slapped Andrei's back. “You got it bad, dude.”

“Shut up, man. It's not like that,” Andrei protested, his voice betraying the excitement he felt.

Joe kept his head down, focusing on his own locker, pretending not to hear the jokes at Andrei's expense. But the mention of your name sent a jolt through him. He knew he had no claim on you, he had made that clear when he chose football over you time and time again - he was aware. But the thought of you with Andrei was like a knife twisting in his gut. He felt a strange mix of jealousy and protectiveness, a storm of emotions that left a dark, uncomfortable weight on his chest.

As Joe made his way to the parking lot, he was flanked by Ja'Marr and Sam on either side as they talked about their evening plans. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the unspoken tension. “Has Jess mentioned anything about...?” he ventured, keeping his voice casual, not completing his thought hoping Sam would catch the unspoken name.

Sam shot him a knowing look, eyes narrowed, lips curled into a smirk. “Do you two get off on playing this weird hot and cold game?” He asked Joe, a disbelieving chuckle bubbling from his chest.

Joe’s face remained impassive. “What are you talking about?” He played dumb, hoping his friends hadn’t noticed the jealousy bubbling beneath the surface.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I haven't heard anything about her seeing anyone, but why don't you just text and ask her? Or better yet, just tell her you fucked up and want her back? I know she hasn’t blocked you yet, Jess reminds me of that every time you two come up in a conversation.”

Joe scoffed, trying to play it cool. “It's not like that. I just want to know she’s good. It’s been a while since I’ve seen or heard anything. That's all.” But the way his heart hammered in his chest, his blue eyes defensively wide told the defensive end it was a lie.

“If you say so,” Ja’Marr spoke up, his voice filled with an unmistakable hint of amusement. “But if I was her, I wouldn't take your ass back.”

Joe shot him a look that could've frozen water. “Thank you for your input, Ja’Marr,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing.

Sam laughed again. “Look, I'm sure she has nothing to hide. If she was seeing someone, she’d tell Jess. And since she hasn’t, then maybe it’s not that serious yet. Just apologize, I’m sure she’ll hear you out.”

Joe nodded, trying to convince himself that it was true. But the gnawing feeling in his gut told him otherwise. He knew he had to see you, to find out for himself what was going on. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, not when he hadn’t even had the urge to officially end things.

After arriving home, Joe found himself pressing your contact name, then the FaceTime button, his heart racing. When you picked up, he could see the surprise in your eyes. You looked beautiful, the soft glow of your bedside lamp highlighting the warm tones of your skin. Your curly hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and you had that look on your face, the one that told him that if he played his cards right, you’d fall right into his lap, just like you used to.

“Hey?” you said, a hint of wariness in your voice.

Joe took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. “What's up?”

Your eyes searched his for a moment, reading the tension in his voice. “Not much, just sitting at home. What’s up with you?” you asked, playing along.

“I was wondering if you’re busy tonight,” Joe said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Thought I could come over, catch up.”

You leaned back into the cushion behind your head, raising an eyebrow. You knew Joe’s moves better than anyone else. At times, you thought you knew him better than he knew himself. “Why? You miss me?”

Joe’s eyes held yours, the intensity in them unmistakable. “Yeah, I did. And I wanna see you. If that’s okay?”

You felt a mix of excitement and annoyance. Why was Joe suddenly interested again? You knew he couldn’t just turn it on and off like that - not matter how much he liked to pretend he was unbothered by the gray area of your situationship. But the temptation was too strong. You missed your connection, the way he made you feel.

“Okay, come over then,” you said with a sigh, unable to completely hide the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

Joe arrived at your apartment later that evening, and the moment he stepped inside, it was as if you had never stopped seeing each other. He took in the familiar scent of your perfume and the sight of you curled up on the couch. He couldn’t help but feel like he was home. The two of you talked about nothing and everything, the conversation flowing easily like it used to. He told you about the team's new plays and strategies, and you updated him on work and Jess' wedding planning.

But there was an undercurrent of tension, something more than just your unresolved history. Andrei's name hovered in the air, unspoken but present. As the night grew later, Joe's eyes searched yours, looking for answers he knew you wouldn’t just volunteer to give him.

“So, are you seeing anyone?” he finally asked, his voice casual, the rush of blood to his face anything but.

You felt a jolt of nerves. You should’ve known this was coming. “No, I’m not seeing anyone,” you replied, your voice steady despite the guilt of such a lie creeping in. “Not officially, or anything.”

Joe’s expression didn’t change, but you could see the muscles in his jaw tense. He knew you well enough to read between the lines. He knew you were lying to him. “But there’s someone you’re interested in?” he pushed.

You nodded, looking away from him. You felt the guilt press harder on your chest. “Yeah, I guess. It’s new, and I’m trying to figure it out. Figure him out.”

Joe leaned in, his hand falling over the back of the couch as if attempting to surround you without actually touching you. “Is it serious?”

His voice was a mix of curiosity and something else, something that made the guilt in your stomach coil tighter. He had a way of suffocating you, of making you feel like you were drowning in his mere presence, and you hadn’t realized how much you missed that feeling.

You took a deep breath. “No, it’s not serious. Not yet, anyway. We’re just...seeing where it goes.”

Joe nodded, his eyes focused intensely on yours. The silence between the two of you grew heavier, charged with unspoken words and desires. Finally, he leaned in closer, deciding he was tired of playing cold and now wanted the hot.

“Can I kiss you?” Blue eyes bore into yours, plump pink lips parted before his bottom lip was pulled between his teeth.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew what giving in to him would lead to, but you couldn’t resist. You nodded, and Joe’s mouth was on yours before you had the chance to reconsider. The kiss was familiar and yet somehow new, filled with the same passion you had always shared, but with an urgency that hadn’t been there before. It was as if he was trying to claim you, to remind you of what they had before you were swept up in someone else's tide.

As Joe’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, you felt the weight of the decision you needed to make. Andrei’s sweetness versus Joe’s intensity. The comfort of the known versus the excitement of the unknown. Your thoughts spun like a tornado, threatening to consume you. But for tonight, you decided to let it go, to lose yourself in the feeling of Joe’s hands on your body.

You moaned against his mouth, giving in to the moment. And with that one sound, the two of you were back to where you had left off months ago, your bodies tangling together in a dance as old as time. You stumbled towards the bedroom, hands fumbling with clothes and buttons, eager to reacquaint yourselves with each other's skin.

“Joe,” you whispered breathlessly as your bodies collided in a fiery embrace, the passion igniting like dry grass in a summer field. He kissed you like he owned you, and for a moment, you let yourself believe he did. Your bodies moved in a symphony of desire, every touch a silent declaration of his intent.

“What do you want from me, Joe?” you managed to ask between gasps, your body responding to his touch despite the turmoil in your mind.

“I don’t know what I want,” Joe murmured against your skin, his voice ragged with need. “But I know I can’t stay away from you, no matter how much I try.”

Your head tilted to the side as Joe's lips attached themselves to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made your body tremble. The room was spinning with the weight of his body on top of yours, you felt like you were drowning in his touch. It was all too much, too familiar, too overwhelming.

Joe let out a breathy chuckle against your neck, drawing a confused furrow of your brows in response. Your eyes cracked open in question, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours. “Isn’t this my shirt? You kept it?”

You felt a heat creep up your neck, the fabric of Joe’s shirt you had borrowed one night months ago clinging to your body. It had become embedded in your rotation of casual wear that you had completely forgotten it didn’t truly belong to you. “It’s comfortable,” you murmured, your voice thick with shy lust.

Joe's eyes searched yours, a hint of possessiveness flickering in their depths. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he said, his voice gruff as he pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in only a pair of panties. The air in the room grew thick with anticipation, your eyes locked as you both knew what was coming next.

With a fierce passion that seemed to have been building for months, Joe's hands explored every inch of your body, relearning the curves and planes he had once known so well. His touch was rough, almost desperate, as if trying to erase any memory of anyone else that had been there since him. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to be lost in it, to be consumed by the fire that was him.

He set you back against the sheets of your bed, eyes hungry as they trailed over every inch of your exposed skin. He settled over you, his frame broad as it obstructed your ability to think - or see - anything but him. His hands slid down your body, caressing your waist, your hips, before slipping into the band of your panties. He tugged them off, tossing them aside with a primal growl that made your stomach flutter.

“Unreal,” Joe hummed under his breath, his eyes roving over your bare form, his fingertips tracing the outline of your thighs, your belly, the swell of your breasts. The word seemed to hang in the air, a declaration of his desire, a claim of ownership.

You felt a shiver of anticipation, your body responding to his touch despite the chaos in your mind. You leaned up, your hands finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest, his muscles flexing in the dim light. Your eyes met again, a silent challenge, a silent question, a silent promise of what was to come.

With a low sound, his hands slid down to your thighs, urging them apart as he settled between your legs. The heat of his skin against yours was almost too much to bear, and you found yourself arching up to meet him, your nails digging into his back as he kissed your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His mouth was everywhere, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, and you could feel yourself spiraling out of control. The pads of his fingers traced circles on your inner thighs, moving higher, closer to the center of your need, until you were writhing beneath him.

“Joe, please,” you begged, the words slipping out unbidden. He chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that was almost predatory. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was a power trip he didn’t even bother hiding.

“Gimme me a minute,” he hummed darkly. His thumb grazed your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making your back arch off the bed. “I want to make sure you don’t forget who this pussy knows best,” he whispered, his voice thick with arousal.

Your eyes widened, and you bit your lower lip to stifle a gasp. The possessiveness in his tone was something new, something you had never heard from him before. It was raw, primal, and it sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t ignore.

Joe’s fingers teased and prodded with a firm pressure that had your hips moving instinctively. He watched your face, his eyes hooded and intense, as if memorizing every reaction. His free hand slid up your torso to the sides of your neck, giving it a trying squeeze that made you moan. The sound was music to his ears, and his mouth found yours again, his tongue demanding entry as his hand continued its merciless torment.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but respond to his dominance. Your legs fell open wider, giving him full access, begging for more. And Joe delivered, his fingers slipping into your wetness, his eyes never leaving yours. He watched your face contort with pleasure, his own expression a mix of satisfaction and hunger.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “Always so wet, so ready. I love that about you.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he worked you over, his thumb pressing down on your clit as his fingers curled inside you. You could feel your orgasm approaching, a storm cloud gathering on the horizon, ready to break at any moment. You didn’t know if you could handle it, didn’t know if you wanted to handle it.

His hand moved faster, his grip on your neck tightening slightly as he watched you writhe and unravel beneath him. Your breaths grew shorter, your moans louder, until you were practically sobbing for release. And when it came, it was like nothing you had ever felt before. It burst through you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pleasure so intense it was almost painful. Your body spasmed around his hand as you rode out the wave, Joe’s eyes never leaving your face, his thumb pressing down harder on your clit as he watched you come apart.

When the tremors finally subsided, you lay there, panting and boneless, staring up at the ceiling. The room was spinning, and you could feel Joe’s weight on top of you, his cock pressing against your thigh. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, as if trying to claim your mouth the same way he had claimed your body. And for a moment, you let him, savoring the taste of him, the feel of his hardness against you, the scent of his sweat and cologne.

“On your stomach, pretty girl, just like that,” Joe ordered, his voice gruff with need.

You mindlessly complied, rolling onto your stomach with a shiver. The coolness of the sheets against your overheated skin was a stark contrast to the heat of Joe’s touch. You felt his hand glide over your back, tracing the line of your spine before it trailed back down, his thumb rubbing tight circles into the base of your spine as he distracted you from the anticipation as he pulled a condom on. Then, without warning, his hand connected with your ass in a firm slap that made you yelp and jolt forward. You looked over your shoulder at him, eyes wide and questioning.

“Want you to remember me every time you sit down tomorrow,” Joe said with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with possessiveness. He grabbed a pillow and placed it under your hips, shifting your ass a bit higher. You could feel his cock, hot and heavy, pressing against you. The head of it slid against your wetness, teasing you, making your pussy clench with want. He didn’t waste any more time, pushing into you in one swift movement that made you gasp, your head falling forward into the sheets.

You felt filled to the brim with Joe, his size stretching you in a way that was both unavoidable and incredibly satisfying. You could feel him everywhere, his grip on your hips tightening as he started to move. He was relentless, his thrusts deep and demanding, setting a pace that had you panting and moaning into the sheets beneath you. You knew your thighs were going to be sore in the morning, but you didn’t care. This was what you had been craving, this was what you had been missing.

“You feel so good, baby,” Joe murmured against your ear, his teeth grazing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his breath hot and ragged against your neck, his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. It was needed, it was carnally satisfying, and it was everything you had been trying to ignore.

Your eyes squeezed shut, and you bit down on a stray pillow to muffle your moans. You didn’t want to admit it, but Joe had a way of making you feel like no one else ever could. It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. Your hands clawed at the sheets, trying to find purchase, as Joe’s rhythm grew more intense. You could feel your orgasm building again, a slow burn that was starting at your toes and working its way up.

“Fuck, Joe,” you murmured, your voice muffled by the fabric. He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through your body.

“Just how you like it, huh?” he said, his voice a low rumble in your ear. You whimpered, unable to form words as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

Your eyes squeezed shut, the sensation of him inside you was overwhelming. Each thrust was like a declaration of his claim, each slap of skin on skin echoing through the room. He was everywhere, his heat enveloping you, his scent infiltrating your senses. It was too much and not enough all at the same time.

“Mm, that’s right,” Joe encouraged, his voice thick with pleasure as he watched the way you responded to his touch. “You need more from me, don’t you?”

You choked out a strained 'yes', the words trapped in your throat by the intensity of your building climax. You felt him shift behind you, his cock sliding out of you briefly before he turned you onto your back. He hovered over you, his eyes burning with desire. His hand found your chin, tilting your head back as he kissed you again, his tongue plunging deep.

With a powerful surge, he thrust back inside you, filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, your legs wrapping around his waist as you tried to hold on to the last shreds of your sanity. The sensation was exquisite, his length stroking you in ways that only he seemed to know how to. You could feel your body responding to him, your inner walls tightening around him as he picked up the pace.

“Love being inside you, always have,” Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto yours as he pushed deeper, his hips moving in a rhythm that had you both racing towards the edge. Your breathing grew more ragged, your breasts heaving with each thrust. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby. Fuckin' made for me.”

Your eyes fluttered shut again, the words playing on repeat in your head, echoing through your body with every stroke. You knew you shouldn’t let his words affect you, but they did. They hit you in a place you thought you had closed off to him through the distance. A place that was still raw and tender, despite the time apart.

“Missed your pretty voice whispering my name. Can you say it again for me?” Joe rasped, his teeth grazing your neck.

“Joe,” you breathed, your voice shaky and needy. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and you felt his cock swell at the sound.

“Say you missed me,” Joe urged, his eyes searching yours as he continued to drive into you. His movements grew more urgent, each thrust more forceful than the last.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. His eyes flared with triumph and need, his strokes becoming more powerful. He slammed into you, pushing you further into the sheets, with such a fervor that made the headboard thump against the wall with every thrust.

“Fuck, yes,” Joe groaned, his voice strained as he pushed into you. The sound of the headboard colliding with the wall grew louder, punctuating the air with a steady rhythm that matched his own. “Missed you too, more than you know,” he murmured against your skin.

Your eyes squeezed shut, the confession sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, your heels digging into his ass as you encouraged him to go harder, faster. The feeling of his cock hitting just the right spot inside you was divine, and you knew you were close.

“I'm sorry,” Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck as he kissed his way across your throat. “I'm sorry I've been an asshole. Did I hurt you?” He didn’t stop moving, his thrusts still deep and demanding.

Your eyes flew open, and you stared up at the ceiling, your heart racing. The tenderness in his voice was unexpected, and it hit you like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond verbally or physically, too ashamed to admit the truth out loud. But Joe read you like a book, his gaze searching your expression for confirmation.

“I know I did,” he said, his voice low and remorseful. He slowed his pace, his strokes becoming more deliberate as if trying to convey his regret through every touch. “But I’m not gonna let you go again, baby. I promise you that. You’re mine, and I’ll make it up to you, every single fucking day if I have to.”

Your heart swelled at his words, even though a part of you knew you shouldn’t let them affect you. But here you were, lying beneath him, your body singing with pleasure, and you couldn’t help but believe him.

“Okay.” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze as your lips pouted in thought.

Joe’s expression softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, his hips stilling for a brief moment. When he pulled back, he said, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Just hold on for me, okay?”

The look in his eyes was earnest, and for a moment, all the tension between the two of you dissipated. You whispered your approval, your hands moving to his face, your thumbs tracing the sharp line of his jaw. You could feel his muscles tense as he took a deep breath, then his hips began to move again, slow and steady, as if he were savoring every inch of you. His eyes remained fixed on yours as he pushed into you, each stroke sending a new wave of pleasure crashing over you.

Your walls tightened around him, your body responding to his gentle dominance. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He kissed you with a tenderness that was at odds with the roughness of your fucking, his tongue dancing with yours, tasting every corner of your mouth. It was as if he was trying to claim you all over again, to erase every memory you had of anyone else.

And for a moment, you let yourself believe there was no one else.

Joe’s eyes searched yours, his expression a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your stomach flip. His movements grew more calculated, his hips snapping against yours as he drove deeper. You could feel yourself climbing, your body coiling tightly around him, ready to shatter.

“Look at me, baby,” Joe murmured, his voice thick with desire. “I need to see your eyes when you come for me. I need to know it’s all for me.”

Your eyes opened, meeting Joe’s intense gaze. His eyes were like blue flames, burning into your soul. You could feel the pressure building within you, your orgasm threatening to break free. Your moans and whines were strangled as they escaped your throat, your breaths coming in quick pants as you tried to hold on.

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “Good girl. Let go for me. Take what you need from me, baby. Wanna hear you scream my name when you do it. Give it to me. Give it all to me.”

The words were like a trigger, setting you off into an explosion of sensation. You moaned his name, your body convulsing around him as you shattered into a million pieces. Your nails dug into his skin, your legs tightening around his waist as the most intense orgasm of your life ripped through you. It was as if every nerve ending in your body was on fire, each spark igniting a new wave of pleasure.

His own climax followed closely, his hips jerking as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning out his release as it spilled into the condom preventing his proximity from truly reaching you. Joe's weight pressed you into the mattress, his breathing heavy in your ear. You remained connected for a few moments, your hearts pounding in sync. Slowly, he pulled out, rolling to the side and disposing of the condom before pulling you into his arms.

Your mind raced as you lay there, your body still trembling. You felt Joe's thumb stroking your cheek, wiping away a stream of tears you hadn't even realized had fallen. He kissed the bridge of your nose, his touch gentle and soothing.

“I've got you,” he whispered, pulling you closer. “I'm not going anywhere.”

You curled into him, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. Joe’s arms around you felt like home, and you didn’t want to leave that behind.

You sighed, deflating against him with no energy to question his intentions or the future. For now, all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace. The comforting beat of his heart against your ear lulled you into a sense of peace you hadn't felt in months. The two of you lay there in the afterglow of passion, your breaths slowly syncing as you held each other tightly.

Your head continued to spin over the next few days, the intensity of that night with Joe replaying in your mind like a highlight reel you couldn’t turn off. Each time you saw Andrei at the gym or exchanged texts, you felt that dreadful pang of guilt. The sweetness of his smile and the genuine concern in his eyes made you feel like the worst kind of person for indulging him when you couldn't get Joe off your mind.

“I'm the worst,” you groaned to Jess one evening, a week after Joe’s unexpected visit. You were lounging in Jess and Sam’s living room, a bottle of wine between the two of you.

Jess looked at you, her expression a mix of confusion and concern. “What do you mean, babe?”

You took a deep breath and recounted the evening with Joe, leaving out the explicit details but sharing enough to paint the picture. Jess’ eyes grew wider with every word, until finally, she spoke.

“Yikes. You might be in deeper than you think,” Jess said, her voice a mix of shock and amusement. She took a sip of her wine, her eyes fluttering over to Sam as he took a seat next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. “Babe, did you know about this?”

Sam looked at you, his expression begging you to play along. “Know what?”

You rolled your eyes with a huff, “Samuel, please. Did Joe say anything to you?”

Sam’s eyes darted to his fiancee whose eyebrow arched in challenge before he cleared his throat. “No actually. I told him to talk to you about the Andrei stuff, but he didn’t say anything happened.” He took a sip of his sports drink, the in-season replacement for his usual beer. “He's actually been pretty tight-lipped about everything, to be honest. Did you guys ever talk it out like I told him to?”

You sighed, playing with the stem of your wine glass. “Sort of. He said some stuff that... I don’t know. It just messed with my head. He said he missed me and that he’s not letting me go again. And when we were together... it was like nothing had changed.”

Jess’s eyes searched yours, understanding dawning as she frowned. “In a good way? Or in a...”

“In a way that seriously makes me question my self-respect,” you replied, your voice laced with frustration and self-pity. You took a long sip of your wine. “And now I’ve got Andrei, who’s so sweet and caring, but he’s also... I don’t know. He’s just different.”

Jess leaned in, her expression earnest. “Look, I know Joe’s got that... that pull, you know? And it’s easy to get swept up in it. But you can’t ignore what you have with Andrei either. Maybe you should take a step back from both of them and figure out what you really want.”

You nodded, knowing Jess was right. But the thought of cutting ties with either of them made your stomach twist. You enjoyed the excitement of Joe, the comfort of familiarity, but there was something about Andrei's gentle persistence that was equally intoxicating. You took a deep breath, setting your wine glass aside.

“I know you’re right,” you said, rubbing your temples. “But it’s so complicated. I don’t want to lead Andrei on or hurt him.”

“What about Joe?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. “I know you guys were never officially together, but do you care about potentially hurting him?”

Your gaze drifted to the floor. “Honestly? I don't. Not in the same way. With Joe, it's complicated. He's complicated. I don't even know if he'd ever truly let himself be hurt by me.”

Sam and Jess exchanged a look, the gravity of the situation settling over them. “Maybe you should just talk to them,” Sam suggested, his voice gentle. “You owe them that much, at least.”

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. You knew he was right. It was only fair to be honest with both Joe and Andrei about your feelings. But the thought of that conversation, of potentially losing one or both of them, was worrying.

Andrei felt like he was slowly going insane, his eyes scanning every line of your last text to him over two weeks ago. He had tried calling, but you always seemed to be busy or your phone went straight to voicemail. With the Bengals' season reaching its peak, he had been thrown into a whirlwind of games and practices, leaving him little time to dwell on his feelings. But now, with the team entering their Bye Week, he had nothing to distract him from the hold you had on his thoughts.

On the second day off, unable to stand it any longer, Andrei found himself at your gym again. He hoped to catch you, to talk things through, to understand what was happening. When he saw you, you looked stunning in a sage green workout set that hugged your curves in all the right ways. He approached, his heart racing, his mind a whirlwind of questions and fears.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice calling out softly through the sparsely populated gym. You looked up, your eyes briefly widening before you schooled your expression into something more neutral. He could tell you were surprised to see him, but there was something else there, something that looked suspiciously like anxiety.

You stood from your spot on the floor where you were stretching, casually reaching for your water bottle. “Hey, Andrei,” you greeted him coolly, your eyes avoiding his.

Andrei’s stomach twisted, his mind racing with a thousand things to say. He took a step closer, his eyes searching your features for any sign of your connection. “Can we talk?”

You hesitated, glancing around the gym before nodding. The two of you found a quiet spot in the corner, the clinking of exercise equipment the only soundtrack to your conversation. He watched as you took a sip of water, your eyes desperately trying to find something to focus on other than him. It was clear you were avoiding eye contact, and his heart sank.

“Look, I’m sorry if I misunderstood things and freaked you out,” Andrei began, his voice tentative. “I just... I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I don’t get why you’re avoiding me.”

Your eyes finally met his, and he was taken aback by the sadness in them. You sighed, setting your water bottle down. You began to clear your throat to speak but paused, your hand picking at a piece of lint dusting your top. Andrei felt his heart racing, unsure of what you were about to say.

“If you don’t want to see me anymore, just tell me,” Andrei said, his voice thick with emotion. “But don’t ghost me. That’s not who I thought you were.”

You could only look at him, your chest tightening at his words. The truth was, you didn’t know what you wanted. Your mind was a whirlwind of Joe’s gravity and Andrei’s sweetness. You took a deep breath, your eyes never leaving his. “It’s not that, Andrei. There was a situation that came up and... I just need some space to figure things out. It’s nothing you did, I promise.”

He searched your face, looking for any hint of what you were referring to, but you offered nothing more. Andrei nodded slowly, his Adam's apple bobbing with an unspoken question. “That’s all I’m asking for. Just tell me if you need some time. I’ll wait, I just... I can’t ignore the way I feel about you. And if you don’t feel the same, then I need to know that.”

Your eyes softened, your heart torn in two. You reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “Andrei, I feel the same. I really do.”

He searched your eyes for any hint of a lie, finding none. The relief visibly washed over him. “So, what’s the deal, then? Why the distance?”

You took a deep breath, your mind racing with the events of the past few weeks. You had been avoiding Joe's calls too, the fear of what you might admit in the heat of the moment too strong to risk. The guilt was eating at you. “It’s complicated. I have some personal things to figure out. And I don’t want to lead you on, Andrei.”

Andrei nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Okay. I can give you space. But, when you’re ready, can we talk again? Maybe go on an actual date?”

You felt a rush of warmth from the earnestness in his voice.

“Sure,” you said, your voice soft. Andrei's smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. All he wanted to do was give in to the hope that filled him at your words, to press his lips to yours and show you just how far gone he was. But he knew you needed space. So, with a nod, he stepped back.

“I’ll give you some time. But just know that I’m not going anywhere, okay?” His words were firm, a declaration that resonated in the quiet corner of the gym.

You nodded. Your throat was tight with the effort of holding back your true turmoil. “Okay,” you whispered.

Andrei’s eyes searched yours, as if trying to read the story behind your guarded expression. He smiled slowly, a mix of hope and pain etched into the lines of his face. “Cool, just text me when you’re up for it. We can keep it casual, no pressure.” His hands buried in his pockets as he took a step back, giving you the space he promised.

You felt a pang of longing as you watched him walk away, his broad shoulders slightly slumped. The reality of your situation was like a heavy weight pressing down on you, and you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. You needed to talk to Joe, to understand why he had come back into your life so suddenly and what he wanted. But the thought of facing him, of admitting to your feelings and the mess you had created, was terrifying.

Days turned into nights and the week stretched on. Your thoughts consumed you, a tumultuous storm of emotions. You went through the motions of your daily routines, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment with both Joe and Andrei. The intensity of your feelings for Joe was undeniable, but the tenderness Andrei offered was something you hadn’t experienced before.

So with a deep breath, you reached for your phone and typed out a message to Andrei. “Hey, I’m free tomorrow. If you’re still down, maybe we can grab brunch?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you hit send, the gravity of your decision setting in. Andrei’s response was almost instant, his excitement palpable even through the screen as he offered a time and a location for your date.

The next morning, as you sat across the table from him at a cozy bistro, the scent of pastries and fruity drinks mingling in the air, you felt a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and the kind of comfort that comes from unguarded openness. But there was a new tension between the two of you, a known thread of desire that hadn’t been there before.

You found yourself leaning in closer to him, drawn to his gentle smile and the way his soft giggles crinkled the corners of his eyes. When he walked you to the door of your apartment, you held on to a half hope that he would kiss you. But when he just gave you a warm, lingering hug before pulling back to look into your eyes, you realized that maybe this was exactly what you needed. A break from the intensity that Joe brought. A chance to explore something new, something that was patiently waiting for you to catch up instead of dragging you along for the ride.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving you in the quiet embrace of your apartment. The scent of Andrei’s cologne lingered on your clothes, a sweet reminder of the date that couldn’t have gone any better. You took a deep breath and leaned against the door, your heart pounding.

Andrei hadn’t stopped smiling since he hugged you close that morning. His cheeks constantly flushed, and his eyes gleamed whenever he thought of you. He felt like he was floating, his every step lighter, his spirits soaring. He had been waiting for this moment since he first met you, the chance to show you that he was more than just a younger teammate of your best friend’s fiance. He wanted to show you the man he was and the love he had to offer.

The other guys immediately picked up on the change in Andrei's mood, his energy at practice the first day back from the Bye unmistakably lighter. Tee and Charlie exchanged knowing glances, and Chase was the first to speak up. “You keep smiling like that, you might be able to start catching with your mouth.”

Andrei chuckled, shaking his head as he took his place for the next drill. He hadn't realized he had been smiling so much, but he couldn't help it. The date with you had been like a breath of fresh air, and he was eager to see you again. You hadn’t stopped texting since that day, lightly flirting and setting up another date. He was trying to keep things casual, trying to moderate his excitement, but it was hard when he felt like he was finally making progress.

On the other side of the field, Joe noticed Andrei’s change in demeanor, his own mood plummeting. You had shown no interest in seeing him again, and the realization that you might have moved on with someone else—someone on his own team—was a bitter pill to swallow. He threw himself into practice, pushing his body to the limit to distract himself from the ache in his chest. But every time he looked over, Andrei’s smile was like a knife twisting in the wound.

“I’m down bad, bro,” Andrei chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he watched Tee and Ja’Marr laugh at the honesty of his admission. “I haven’t even kissed her yet and she’s all I can think about.”

“You haven’t kissed her?” Tee’s eyebrows shot up, incredulous.

Andrei shrugged, his cheeks flushing slightly. “I want to, but I don’t want to rush it. I’ll do it when it feels right.”

Tee nodded, understanding. “Just don’t wait too long, man. Girls like that, they don’t come around often. You gotta let her know what’s up before someone else does.”

“Speakin’ of, I’m surprised Joe was cool with you two hanging out,” Ja’Marr said casually, rolling his shoulders as the words spilled out casually.

Andrei's eyes snapped over to him, his smile fading. “Joe? What do you mean?”

Ja’Marr looked up, catching the shift in Andrei's expression. “You didn’t know?” He paused, realizing he might have just stepped into a minefield of unspoken locker room drama. “My bad, bro. Never mind.”

But it was too late. Tee stepped forward, shaking his head at Ja’Marr’s retraction. “Nah, finish what you were saying. Andrei deserves to know what’s goin’ on.”

Ja’Marr took a deep breath. “Okay, so, they had a thing a while ago. No labels or nothing, but it was definitely more exclusive than just hooking up. They decided to cool it off because Joe was focused on rehabbing his wrist, and she didn’t like feeling like a distraction. But they do this weird hot and cold shit every now and then, it’s toxic as fuck, honestly. But that’s just how they like it, I guess. Sam swears they soulmates but I don’t know about all that.”

“Damn,” Tee breathed out, his eyes wide as saucers as the information sank in. Andrei's heart dropped to his stomach, the revelation hitting him like a sledgehammer. The world around him grew quiet, the laughter and shouts from the other players fading into the background. He stared at the football in his hand, his mind racing.

“What the fuck, man?” He looked up at Ja’Marr, his voice low and tight. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Ja’Marr held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, we all knew you had a thing for her, but it’s not my place to stir shit up where there might not be anything. Besides, Joe never talks about what they got going on, you know how he is. You and Joe are cool, and she’s not his girlfriend. You do you, you know?”

But Andrei didn’t know. He had thought he had a shot with you, that the connection was real and genuine. But now, knowing that Joe had been in the picture before - and possibly still lurking in the background - the doubt began to creep in. He couldn’t help but feel like he was just the rebound, the second choice. The easygoing charm that usually filled him was gone, replaced by a storm of confusion and anger.

After practice, Andrei went straight to his locker, avoiding Joe’s gaze as he packed up his gear. His mind was racing, trying to piece together what this meant for him. He shot off a text to you, asking to meet up at your place. He needed to hear it from you, to understand the depth of what had happened between you and Joe.

When he arrived, there was a storm in Andrei's eyes that you had never seen before. You felt a sinking feeling in your gut, knowing that something was wrong. He stepped into your apartment, and you could see the tension coiled in his stiff shoulders. He didn’t bother with pleasantries, his question coming out in a rush. “Did you and Joe have something going on before me?”

Your heart stopped. You hadn’t expected this. You took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “We did. But it’s over. It’s been over for a while.”

Andrei’s eyes searched yours, looking for a lie, for any reason to believe you were just playing games. “Then why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was tight, each word forced through gritted teeth.

You felt the walls closing in on you, the guilt of your omission weighing heavily on your chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Andrei. It was a complicated situation, and I didn’t know what to say without messing things up between us. I care about you, and I didn’t want us figuring things out to be tainted by me explaining my past with Joe.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me,” Andrei said, his voice filled with intensity. “I care about being with you, about us. How could you think keeping that from me would be better than letting me decide for myself?” His gaze was unwavering, and you knew he wasn’t going to let this go without a fight.

You looked away, your eyes stinging. You knew you messed up, but you didn’t know how to fix it. “I’m sorry, I just—”

Andrei’s hand on your cheek made you stop. He turned your face back to his, his eyes searching yours. “Don’t apologize. Just tell me if there’s still something between you two. Because if there is, I can’t do this. I can’t compete with him.”

Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his voice. You took a deep breath and met his gaze. “No, there’s nothing going on. I want to move on.”

Andrei studied your face, the tension in his body slowly uncoiling as he saw the sincerity in your eyes. He took a step closer, his thumb brushing over the stress lines marring your face. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Okay.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, the air between you charged with a tension that had shifted from anger to something more complex. Andrei leaned in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was a declaration of intent, a promise that he wouldn’t back down. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, and you felt yourself melting into it, your hands curling around his shoulders as if you were holding on for dear life.

When you finally broke apart, panting, Andrei searched your eyes again.

“Fuck it.”

He didn’t need to say more. With a newfound sense of urgency, he scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom, your kisses growing more frantic with each step. The weight of your confessions and the unspoken tension between you had transformed into a fiery passion that could no longer be contained.

In the dim room, you undressed each other slowly, as if savoring every moment. Your hands explored familiar yet new territories, the heat of your bodies melding together as if you were two puzzle pieces that had finally found their rightful place. The intimacy was intense, a blend of attraction and lust that neither of you had ever experienced together before.

“Are you sure?” Andrei’s voice was a gentle rumble against your skin as he paused, his hand hovering over the clasp of your bra. You nodded, the anticipation in your eyes unmistakable.

The rest of your clothes fell away, and you were left in nothing but the glow of the streetlights filtering through the blackout shades. Andrei took his time, exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart swell. Each touch was deliberate, each kiss a silent promise that he would be different from Joe, that he would treat you as more than an option.

Andrei’s hips moved in a steady rhythm, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he was afraid that if he blinked, you would vanish forever.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me, I don’t want you to slip away from me again,” Andrei whispered against your ear, his breath hot and heavy as your bodies moved together. “Gonna make sure you don’t forget me, no matter what happens with him.”

Your eyes searched his, a mix of want and fear. You nodded, your voice a breathy whisper as your eyes rolled back with a flutter of pleasure. He was so deep, so gentle, so deliciously slow as he pushed into you, making you feel like the most precious thing in the world. Your calves resting against his shoulders, legs parted, giving him full access, and he took it with a groan of pleasure that made your toes curl.

Andrei’s eyes never left yours, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of your face in the throes of passion. It was raw and beautiful, and it made your heart ache in a way you didn’t know was possible. You could feel yourself letting go, giving in to the moment.

“I’m all yours,” you murmured, your voice thick with need. Andrei’s response was to kiss you again, hard and demanding, as if he was sealing your fate with every touch of your tongues. The sound of your bodies coming together filled the room, a testament to your connection.

His hips began to pick up their pace, propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand roaming your body, leaving trails of fire wherever it went. Your chest heaved, your breath hitching as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. You were falling, and you hoped you might never get back up again.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as he reached between you, his thumb circling your clit with a precision that made your back arch off the bed. Andrei’s eyes were intense, watching your reaction with a hunger that only fueled your own. The room was a cocoon of desire, the air thick with the scent of your arousal and the sound of your ragged breaths.

“Good girl, takin’ my cock like this,” Andrei groaned, his teeth clenched as he fought to hold back. He knew he had to give you what you needed, what he knew you deserved. He could feel the tension building in your body, the way you tightened around him with every stroke. He leaned in closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, his words hot and fast. “You’re so perfect, baby, so fucking perfect.”

“More, please, I need more,” you moaned, your voice shaking. He could feel the desperation in your words, the need for release, and he was more than happy to oblige. His hand found your neck, his thumb gently caressing your pulse point as he picked up his pace, his hips slamming into you with a force that was both gentle and fierce.

“Come for me, baby, come all over my cock,” Andrei urged, his voice low and demanding. And as if on cue, your body obeyed, the tension snapping as you shuddered beneath him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. He watched as you came undone, the sight of your pleasure etching itself into his soul. He couldn’t hold out much longer, the feel of you tightening around him pushing him over the edge.

With a moan of his own, he came, his release hot and powerful as he filled you. He collapsed next to you, his tanned chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath. You blinked slowly, biting back a smile as you felt him shiver against you, his milky white spend slowly leaking out of you.

You turned onto your side, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as a hand came down to brush through Andrei's dark hair, your eyes shining with a newfound fondness for the man beside you. He pulled you closer, your limbs tangled together like vines, and you felt a warmth spread through you and couldn't help the giggle that escaped. Your giggles spurred Andrei on, unable to suppress his own chuckle as you two erupted into laughter at the absurdity of your situation.

The room grew quiet, the only sound was your mingled breathing and the occasional creak of the bed. Andrei’s thumb traced patterns on your bare shoulder, his eyes studying your profile in the soft light. “I meant what I said,” he murmured, his voice serious despite the playfulness of moments before. “I want to be the only one for you. I can handle whatever shit comes up with Joe. I just need you to be honest with me.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot in your stomach. The weight of your decision settled on your shoulders like a heavy blanket. “I will,” you said finally, tilting your head up to catch his eye. “I promise.” He responded with a soft, lingering kiss on your swollen lips.

Eventually, Andrei’s grip loosened, and he rolled away from you, smiling as you whined at the sudden loss of his warmth. “I need to use the bathroom. Need me to get something to clean you up?”

“Please,” you replied with a tired smile, watching him stride across the room naked. The confidence in his step was something you hadn’t seen from him before - not off the football field at least - and it made your stomach flutter. He closed the door behind him, humming softly to himself. You settled into the sheets, releasing a sigh of contentment.

But like clockwork, it didn’t last long. It never lasted long.

Your phone lit up on the nightstand, catching your attention with the notification of a new text. You rolled over, reaching for it lazily and your eyes widened as you saw Joe’s contact name on the screen. The message was deviously simple, as it always was. Your heart beat out of your chest as you read it to yourself.

Are you free tomorrow? We should do something. Miss seeing you.

[lilrainbowcloud]

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Reader

Genre: Comfy cozy fluff

Word count: 567 [masterlist]

a/n: i live for soft percy fics🩵

[13:23]

Sitting during lunch period together, both leaning on the trunk of an old rain tree at the campus park, you both enjoyed the company of each other in silence. Well, not in complete silence, there was the buzzing of passing conversations of the other students and the sound of the rustling leaves from the gentle breeze of wind.

But you and Percy were in your quiet bubble together. You felt like it was your own world. Being with him, sharing earbuds as your favourite playlist played on shuffle, it felt as if the bubble was a vacuumed space, shutting out the outside world. For like, an hour.

Shoulder to shoulder, you sat sketching on your little sketch book. Determined to commit to finishing the entire book for the semester and not abandoning it like.... the last 4 times. Hey, it wasn't your fault that artist block came knocking on your dorm room's door after a couple of days. Keeping up with the motivation to do something can be challenging okay!

As your pen scratched the paper with black ink, you were sketching a portrait of a woman you saw from your trip to the flower market yesterday. Mind in deep focus as you tried to recall the angle of her face, the deep hooded brown eyes, and the dark curl of her hair. She was very pretty enough to be your subject of art.

Being deep in your creative headspace, the person who was leaning himself onto your shoulder took hold of your non dominant hand which didn't catch your attention at first, but the cold and blunt tip of a pen gliding on the skin of the back of your hand sure did.

Tilting your head down to your intertwined hands, you smiled at the sight of Percy drawing an outline of a star on your hand, matching his blacked out one.

Glancing at his face the best you can, given your position, you could see the little smile on his face as he carefully traced the star's outline, darkening it.

You thought he was done, but under the star, Percy being Percy, wrote a cliche line of "You're the star of my life." Which got an amused scoff out of you. And a proud smile on his face as he let go of your hand only to take it in his other one to hold them up beside his as he examined his 'masterpiece'.

"You're such a dork, you know that?"

"At least I'm your dork," Taking your hand in his again, he brought your knuckles to his lips, "M'lady."

Groaning, you rolled your eyes as you pushed him, making him fall to the side. His melodious laugh filled your bubble.

"Oh my god Percy, I swear on your dad I will-"

"What? You will what, hm?" Giving you a raised eyebrow in question. Sometimes, your mind can't think of a fast retort to him, you stutter, thinking of something.

"I'm telling him that his son cheated on a carnival water gun's game to win a stuffed bear." With a proud face, you crossed your arms over your chest. Feeling defeated already from your poor attempt at a clapback.

You hoped he didn't notice the change of subject matter?

"Okay, I won a stuffed bear for you!" Okay, he didn't notice, "If you don't want him, I'll kidnap him back from you."

"No! He's mine!"

[deepspace-mens-socialarchives]

A list of Zayne's Moment posts archived here so far

There will be drastic change in the pinned section as it no longer can hold anymore links . i appreciate your involvement throughout . its been a journey in this acc

❄️the snow stopped

❄️Traffic jam

❄️Dusk or Dawn

❄️Cat's blessing

❄️Rabbit escaped

❄️it's fun and easy (first plushie)

❄️let's go home (3 plushie)

❄️angry mc obtained (No plushie)

❄️goodluck (1st SSR meow badge)

❄️has anyone seen my socks

❄️haggle through Language barrier

❄️Queueing [aff 62]

❄️Trial and error

❄️Diseased Mind

❄️Drink Plenty of water

❄️Stroll on the road

❄️surprise

❄️someone said we were only taking picture-

❄️Earbuds are broken[snapshot same pose]

❄️Reminders

❄️Philosophers[snapshot specific duo pose]

❄️I'm now accustomed to [snapshot follow up]

❄️Squirrel brought a friend[related to feed the squirrel chat]

❄️Power suddenly went out

❄️Medium rare

❄️Three notification for light meal

❄️Captchas aren't scientific

❄️between the results of medical exam and theoretical exam-

❄️learned a lot of weird trivia

❄️ Fun thing [aff 77]

❄️ paper penguin [aff 58]

❄️ blankets power

❄️waiting at the concert

❄️Mild myopia

❄️100% sugar latte to go

❄️recent chat fills up Doctor patient joke collection

❄️Refrigerator turned into magnet display case

❄️crab roe soup dumpling

❄️special gift 💞41

❄️A game of Ring toss at the fair

❄️wrong size of cup ended up with water tank

❄️Rock cake from creative cuisine market

❄️Expressions are more captivating than magic

❄️Hospital's Downstair Neighbour

❄️Best award[cuteness crush]

❄️Too chatty while riding bicycle

❄️who's being teased[MeowsTime]

❄️Moment of leisure[Meow's Time]

❄️Meeting effects~White Noise playlist

❄️posting about summit on moments

❄️Strange thought during photoshoots [Glint]

❄️A Sense of Ceremony 💞81 ❄️Zoo 💞88 ❄️orange peels trick

❄️some people vow to make lunch

[nariism]

gojo satoru believes that all good things come in twos.

he was the second half of his best friend, after all— part of a wandering soul somewhere else in japan spouting some bullshit about retribution. he hasn't quite been the same since 2009.

it wasn't always this way. never before had he been so endeared, so enchanted by the prospect of keeping things together just for the sake of it. 

he remembers clearly the day this hyperfixation started, actually: a warm summer sunday in sagae with you dragging him along through the local fruit market. you picked out a bag of cherries, holding up a twin pair of them and dangling them in his face.

"they're sweeter here," you told him with such a fascinated expression, completely enamoured by the ruby jewels held between your fingers. and he savoured that moment, as mundane as it was, because your eyes were shining in adoration at such a perfect pair of cherries. 

(also, when you ate them your lips stained a pretty shade of red that made him salivate.)

he realized that things felt more whole in pairs: two hands cupping his face, two charms dangling from your neck, two cherries infinitely sweeter than one. two hearts, two souls, two people who both belong and don't belong in such a wicked world cradling each other with a shared breath.

gojo felt lonely without another— in the time between geto's defection and your reunion, he missed the feeling of being the other half of a duo. nanami buried himself into work. shoko fared no better. he was utterly, shamefully alone.

he was a new person when you returned to him. a lot of things had changed. but despite the distance and the slow untwining of your lives over the years, you knew gojo to be stubborn more than anything.

"two dogs are better than one," he argued when megumi was first learning how to control his cursed technique.

"he's just a kid. making him responsible for one, let alone two, is crazy!"

"i'm telling you, megumi is no pushover! you'll see."

he was right. sometimes (and only sometimes) he does know better. two was better than one.

you could see it in megumi's face when both dogs pounced on him, licking him and wagging their tails. in fact, it was probably the first time you'd ever seen the kid smile at all.

so you went along with gojo, indulged him whenever he reached for two things instead of one: two boxes of juice from the convenience store fridge, two fingers locked together while you walk, two earbuds split between you so you can sing together. two hearts, two souls, two blue eyes fluttering shut when he leans in to kiss you.

when he asked you to move in with him, you weren't surprised in the least. you were also not surprised to see how he set things up around the house, nothing lonely and everything in a pair. gojo feels like you think he's insane. he might be.

being with you made him feel as normal as gojo satoru could ever feel in this life— breathing no longer hurt like water filling his lungs. it was as natural as you basking in the rising sun every morning. living didn't need to be justified anymore. he wasn't obligated to be the strongest. he just needed to exist in your warmth.

things make sense in twos. the world is less gloomy with you by his side.

it's unspoken between you, but you oblige to his strange fixation anyways: two slices of peanut butter on toast in the morning, two stars atop a christmas tree, two picture frames on every side table. two hearts, two souls, two people being each other's reason to keep pushing.

he thinks he loves you a foolish amount. knows he shouldn't be putting all his eggs into one basket. he might be untouchable, but you aren't.

it's inevitable. one day, gojo satoru will be alone again.

and it's a fair exchange for power; a curse he wishes he was never born with. if he had the choice, he would have picked you over limitless power without a moment's pause.

he doesn't have the choice. unlucky.

all he can really do is let you cup his face. feed him cherries. argue over how to raise megumi and tsumiki and live in your little fantasy of pretending to be a family. all he can do is cherish the time you have left together, regardless of how long. all he can do is hope you'll say yes.

two hearts, two souls, two matching rings (one white, one black; he was poetic that way). one meant for him, and the other meant for you— a promise to keep and to break.

he doesn’t care. you and him make the best pair he can think of, no matter how fleeting.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[pedroshotwifey]

To the Flame Chapter 1

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Chapter tags/warnings: not much yet, age gap, fluff, reader being horny (c'mon y'all it's me what do you expect), Javier being gorgeous, erotic novels honorable mention, mentions of cheating, stuff I'm probably forgetting

Chapter summary: You meet a beautiful stranger at the farmer's market. Is he what you need to get back on your feet?

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so very excited about starting this series! I have so many plans, and I can't wait to share them with you! Please keep in mind that this story will get darker the more it progresses. Thank you for reading!

***

You’ve been back in your hometown for about three months now. Three miserable and exhausting months. 

You’ve been working on the family farm four days a week, ten hours a day, every week since you got back. You figure it wouldn’t be so bad if you got to have the other three days off, but no. Those days are spent at the local farmer’s market, sitting in a stiff plastic chair in the sticky Texan heat. 

It doesn’t even matter that you wear a tank top and shorts to the market, you feel like you’re going to melt every damn time you have to go. The same goes for working on the farm, only you’re less fortunate in that situation. You know it’s smarter to wear jeans out there, so most of the time you do.

You’re trying to be grateful to your parents, you really are. They just make it so damn hard sometimes. Sure, they gave you a job when you needed one, but they never stop talking about how they were right. And they were, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. 

Your mom and dad never approved of your boyfriend, and had told you as much. You chose to ignore that fact considering they said that about every boyfriend you ever had. How the hell were you supposed to know if they were actually concerned, or if they just didn’t want you to date?

They had warned you about him. Told you that he wasn’t genuine, that you need to be careful. They told you the same about your so-called “best friend”, who was the person you found your boyfriend balls deep inside of three months ago.

But, of course, despite their protest, you had moved out with him anyway. Spent your savings on renting an apartment that he put practically nothing into. In retrospect, you really should have known; there were so many signs. You were just too damn stubborn to see them. You never would have guessed that he would go as far as to cheat on you.

Your own poor choices are what ultimately landed you back here, getting out of your dad’s old truck to unload a creaky table to set up the stand at the farmer’s market. Again. You roll your eyes and pop your earbuds in, putting on your favorite playlist. 

You open the back of the truck and start to drag the plastic table out. It slides across the bed effortlessly thanks to the morning dew it’s been sitting out in. Unfortunately, that detail is another pain in the ass more than anything, because you end up getting half-soaked as you haul it into the giant tent that makes up the market.

You get it set up in an empty booth, smacking the rusted hinges to get it to stand without risk of collapse. After you lean on it to make sure it won’t fall, you return to the truck to start the endless trips of carrying produce to the stand. You usually make your younger sister help you with this part since she often tags along, but, being a senior in highschool, she couldn’t make it today. 

Once you have everything put together and displayed on various shelves, you take a seat in the foldable chair you had brought with you. You expect it will be a slow day, as Mondays usually are, so you brought a book to pass the time. 

You rarely sell anything on weekdays, you have no idea why your parents are so adamant about you coming all the way out here every monday since you got here. Maybe it’s just to get you out of the house—you wouldn’t put it past them.

You take one more look around the market to make sure there’s nobody approaching your stand before you open your book to the first page. It’s a newer, trashy romance. It’s a little embarrassing, sure, but you like what you like. 

Sometimes you swear your love life is awful or boring enough for you to actually wish to be in the place of the girls in your books. At least the fictional men seem genuine. Less likely to cheat on you with your best friend, you think bitterly. 

Less likely to manipulate into moving into an expensive apartment without helping, Less likely to treat you like shit. Plus, you probably wouldn’t mind the fact that they all seem to be absolute hunks and amazing in bed.

The sound of someone clearing their throat startles you from your spiraling thoughts, your cheeks reddening once you realize you have been staring blankly at the same page for a good few minutes. 

You have to steady yourself so you don’t drop your book on the dirt below you, which has you almost falling out of your chair in the process. 

You glance up at the stranger as you situate yourself, which doesn’t do much to help. The man is drop-dead fucking gorgeous. He’s staring down at you, clearly amused. His full lips are tugged up into a half-smirk. You think for a second that he looks familiar, but you would for sure remember seeing a man like this.

His hair is dark, a bit long and shaggy, but in the way that makes you want to run your fingers through it. He wears sunglasses, you notice with disappointment. You don’t know why you have such a strong urge to see what’s hidden under there. You’re guessing they’re brown. He seems to carry a kind aura, it’s a fitting idea that his eyes would be warm.

Even though you sense such a kindness emanating from him, there’s an annoying nagging from the back of your head that makes you uneasy. His stare is almost imposing, the way he carries himself adding so much to the effect. Your stomach bunches up in a frustrating way that signifies both anxiety and lust. You don’t really care much to figure out which is dominant at the moment. 

All you know is that you’re drawn to this man like a moth to a flame, and that after all you’ve been through, you deserve to admire him at the very least. It’s not often you come across such a good looking man. A fictional looking man. 

He cocks his head after you stare for what could probably be considered a second too long. Your face must be about the shade of a tomato at this point. The weight of an object in your hand quickly reminds you of the task at hand. 

This is a potential customer. You need to stop staring like a schoolgirl. Besides, he must be what… ten, fifteen years older than you? God, you can’t even tell. He looks mature, but somehow ageless at the same time. He has strong, masculine features, but a sort of boyish quality, too. If someone told you he was some kind of a god himself, you would have no trouble believing them.

“I-I’m so sorry, let me just put this down,” you say to the god, trying not to stumble over your own words after getting caught ogling. 

“No problem at all, sweetheart,” he says, clearly unbothered. Fuck, his voice. It’s deep and rich, and he has some sort of accent,  like he grew up speaking another language. Spanish? Probably spanish. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Down, girl.

You take a breath in through your nose, willing yourself to relax as you set your book down on the table in front of you. You resist the urge to shut your eyes out of embarrassment as he looks down at the erotic cover, and then back at you with an arched brow and an amused smile. You move quickly as you snatch the book back to flip it back-side-up.

“What can I get for you, sir?” you quietly attempt to move on from that interaction, trying to reign in some of your composure. He’s standing with one hand on his hip, which is jutted out just slightly. He licks his plush lips and stands up mostly straight before he speaks. He pulls a piece of paper out of his snug back pocket and starts to read off of it. 

Your face keeps a nice flush as he reads off of his list. Your core throbs every now and again as he talks, making it a bit hard for you to concentrate, but you’re pretty sure you got everything. 

You nod at him to let him know as much before you get up to collect everything. Who knows if your voice even works right now. You do your best to ignore the weight of his stare on your back as you move around.

“Haven’t seen you around before,” he says, obviously wanting to start a conversation. “You been here long?”

“No, not really,” you say, trying to level your voice as you place produce into bags. “Well, kind of. I grew up here but I moved away a few years ago. Only been back for a couple months now. I’m staying to help my parents for a bit before I can get back onto my feet,” you finish as you secure the last bag. 

You look up as you place the goods on the table, this time meeting the man’s uncovered eyes. Brown and expressive, just as you imagined. You smile absentmindedly, and he mirrors your action, making your stomach twist once again. What a fucking smile. 

“Well, welcome back, then,” he says. “I’m Javier. Prefer it if you would call me Javi, though.” 

“Javi it is,” you say, liking the feel of his name on your tongue. You tell him your name and he nods. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

Fuck this man, he has to know what he’s doing. 

“Thank you,” you say, trying to control the pitch of your voice. 

He watches you as you place his bags on the table in front of you, now full of his requested items. As you catch his gaze, everything around you seems to fade to black. No sounds, no movement. All you can focus on is the sudden electric current that is born between the two of you. 

A nervous flutter starts in your stomach, but you just can’t bring yourself to look away, as if the attraction would be broken and gone forever if you did. The two of you hold eye contact for what could be a minute or ten before someone walks past your stand, drawing your attention back to reality.

You both let out a breath you’ve been holding, yours probably more shaky than his. You shake your head and start to add up his total after wiping your sweaty palms on your shorts. He stands back on his heels, his hands shoved into his pockets as he watches you work.

It only takes a moment. You tell him his total and he slides his wallet out, handing you the exact cash. You both thank each other at the same time, making you giggle. He smiles wider at the sound. 

“You’ve got a nice laugh, sweetheart,” he complements warmly. 

“Thank you. I made it myself,” you joke. Javi chuckles to himself, almost like he’s surprised to hear you make a joke. “Sorry,” you say, laughter in your own voice. “That was kind of lame.” 

“No, that was pretty clever, actually,” he says through his smile. 

You let yourself get one more good look as you reciprocate the gesture, fully expecting him to part ways. He doesn’t though, instead he asks you the one question you had hoped that nobody would ask you. 

“What brought you back here?” 

Your smile drops slightly and you consider lying to him, telling him that your parents wanted your help and that’s all. You know you can’t, though. There’s no point in trying to hide the truth. Nothing stays hidden in this small town. 

So you don’t. You sum up every stupid, unfair thing that made you return home. There’s a flash of sympathy in his gaze that makes you want to shut up, but some sick part of you craves that sympathy at the same time. 

It only takes you a couple minutes to have everything out, but he stays quiet and patient the entire time. Never interrupting you once and nodding along at all the right parts to let you know he’s listening. 

You haven’t felt this seen in a long time, It feels good. It makes you want to wrap yourself up in this total stranger’s arms and beg him to hold you. Fuck, now you’re picturing that. You need to not picture that. Luckily you don’t have much of a chance to, because he’s responding to you only a few seconds after you finish. 

“Well, that’s a damn shame. Fuckin’ boys don’t even know how to treat a sweet girl anymore.” Javi says, making you blush once again. 

The attention he gives you feels the same as jumping into a cool pool after being in the sun all day. It’s unbelievably refreshing to hear something like that instead of the usual scolding and ‘I told you so’s.  

He seems to put thought into what comes out of his mouth, and it genuinely makes you feel like he cares. Like he wants to make sure you hear what you deserve to hear.

“What makes you so sure I’m sweet?” you ask playfully, trying to change the topic to ignore the craving for more kind words. Might as well flirt a little while you’re at it, you figure. What can it hurt?

“Just a hunch,” he says, his tone the same as yours as his smile crinkled eyes bore into yours. You nod a little, your adoring smile never wavering.

 You both notice the small line of people beginning to form behind Javi at the same time. He almost looks disappointed at the sight, like he doesn’t want to leave just yet. 

“Just one second, honey,” he says, digging the scrap of paper from before out of his pocket again. Once he has that laid against the table in front of him, he supplies a pen from the front pocket of his shirt. He uses it to scribble something down onto the paper. 

You crane your neck slightly to try to catch a peak, but you can’t tell with how fast he’s writing. When he’s done, he folds it once, slides it your way, and gives a singular nod. 

“See you around, sweetheart,” he says as he starts to leave. 

“Yeah. See you,” you mumble under your breath as you watch him stride away, bags of produce in hand.

A woman walks up to the table, and you quickly turn to her. 

“So sorry about that. How can I help you?” you ask quickly, eyeing the paper Javi left behind.

It only takes you a little while to get everyone who was in line checked out, but it feels like it could have been hours. As soon as the last customer starts to walk away, your hands are on the note, shakily unfolding it to reveal Javi’s (suitably) scratchy handwriting. 

You see what you can only assume to be his phone number, and above it, there’s a note. 

“I would love to see you again, sweet girl. Give me a call?” 

Your heart flutters as you bite your lip and read the note over again. There’s no way you’re not taking up that offer. 

***

Thank you so much for reading!! I would absolutely love any kind of feedback so I know where everyone's at on this!! I have a tag list open for this series if anybody would like to join <3

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @survivingandenduring @kewwrites (pls lmk if these tags worked!)

[pepsiboyy]

starboy part 1

P1 P2

pairing: y/n x chris sturniolo

summary: y/n, born and raised in los angeles, moves across the country to boston. when she feels like she has nobody, she makes some new friends at her new job. she grows particularly close with the sturniolo triplets, where she finds a lot in common with one of them.

warnings: just cursing

lowercase intentional!!!

author's note: hii! this is my first story on here and i hope it goes okay?? idk i suppose we will see where it goes. thanks a ton for reading!! let me know what you think! sincerely, apollo <3

my head smacked against the car window, causing me to immediately lift my head and blink a few times.

"morning, y/n. sleep well?" my mom carefully stated while looking at me in the rearview mirror. i shrugged and tried to keep my eyes opened as i watched all of the unfamiliar buildings pass by.

everything was so different here.

-

a few weeks ago, my mom received a job offer here in boston. our family didn't particularly struggle with money, but if she wanted to keep her job, we had to move.

me, on the other hand? i couldn't believe what i was hearing when she sat me down at the dining room table. "what do you mean we're... leaving?" i felt my hands shake. sadness? anger? i couldn't even tell.

"well, i got a job offer-" she started, but i immediately cut her off with my hands slamming against the table.

"fuck your job offer, what about everything we have here!? my friends, my job... everything?" i shouted, my voice beginning to shake towards the end.

"language," my mom started, but let out a deep sigh, "i understand your frustration. that's why we're waiting until you graduate."

-

i let out a shaky sigh at the thought. this wasn't fair. my best friend was still in los angeles, harper. she was my best friend since childhood, and leaving her hurt more than anything i could even describe.

"we're here," my mom breathed, looking at me through the rearview mirror. i could tell she was trying to read my emotions, sadness in her eyes. i stared at her for a few moments before opening the car door and stepping out quickly.

"wow, it's gorgeous." i heard my father say, his arm wrapping around my mom's waist as he kissed the top of her head. i felt myself physically cringe as i grabbed my bags and a few pairs of shoes that didn't fit within the bags. i looked at the house in front of me.

it was pretty nice. fairly homey. very different from our house back in california. i took in a deep breath before beginning to walk towards the door.

-

my room was pretty nice, i had to admit. it was a little bigger than my room back at home- or.. what was home, i guess. i laid against my bed and stared at my ceiling before standing up.

while i was packing, i applied for a few jobs here in boston. a lot of them turned me down as i only have a little bit of work experience, but what can you do? i guess. i got accepted by a grocery store though, one i hadn't seen before. it was called star market? we didn't have those on the west coast, but they're pretty popular here. the pay was minimum wage, but it's a start. it didn't really matter to me. anything to get me out of the house and just do something. get myself out there.

i let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes. with every thought racing through my head, finally i managed to let my mind rest and slowly drift into sleep.

-

"y/n, are you sure you'll be okay?" my mom mumbled, carefully touching my hair and fixing the loose strands. i chuckled softly and nodded. "i'll be fine, just a bit nervous. new place and new job." i mumbled, playing with my fingers. my mom nodded.

"i understand. you'll do great. just talk to your coworkers, maybe make friends?" she asked, smiling. i sighed.

i know she's simply trying to help, but it's hard. i had a perfectly great life in california and i feel like i'm being forced to restart completely.

"right." i replied, letting out a sigh before stepping towards the door.

-

my earbuds were playing music as i walked. i didn't have a car yet, so.. i had to walk. it's right down the street, so no biggie. in broad daylight, i didn't see it as a big deal. i hummed as i turned a corner, and sure enough, it really was right there. i crossed the street and approached the doors, blinking a few times.

so this is my new job. it looked a lot nicer in person than in the pictures. that made me feel a little better. i walked in.

"hi, umm... my name is y/n.. it's my first day?" i mumbled shyly to the older lady standing at the front. she looked me up and down. i swallowed and gripped my backpack's straps, looking around. why was she looking at me like that.

"you're y/n y/l/n?" she started to smile, and i felt a wave of relief wash over me.

"yeah," i smiled softly back.

"cool, let me call nick over." she told me before turning away and beginning to say something into her walkie.

after a few minutes of awkwardly standing with my hands in my pockets.

"hi-"

"oh fuck-" i gasped, turning around and grasping my chest. my eyes widened as i shook my head, "oh god i'm sorry- i didn't mean to say that, you just scared me," i breathed, smiling softly.

the boy laughed softly and shook his head. "oh, girl you're completely fine, i'm the same way," he chuckled.

i smiled softly. i then gasped and quickly held out my hand. "my name is y/n, it's my first day." i looked up at the boy with the nose ring and curly hair in front of me. i assumed he was nick.

"hi y/n, i like your name a lot. it's pretty! i'm nick. lose the formalities, let loose, you're good." he smiled and shook my hand softly before pulling away and beginning to walk away. i followed.

"are you from around here, or?" nick asked, turning to me and beginning to walk to the back.

"ah, yeah.. i uhh, moved here from los angeles, actually." i scoffed.

nick seemed to throw his eyebrows up as he turned to me. "los angeles? really? i've always wanted to go, i've been like once but... i still want to go, doesn't change anything." he smiled before he quickly turned to me. "sorry, it's probably like... not that special to you, but," he shrugged, "it's across the country. i mean, culture shock.... is that a real thing?"

i smiled brightly. something about the way nick spoke to me so casually was really comforting. "oh, it's definitely a real thing."

as we walked towards the back, we passed a boy with similar hair and features, and i blinked at him before i shrugged it off and kept following nick. nick seemed to notice this though, and smiled. "that's my brother, matt," he mumbled, and i smiled and nodded. "you two look really similar." i replied, before we came to a stop.

"this is where you'll clock in every day. just type in your employee number and tap clock in," he told me as he demonstrated. i nodded carefully. "it's totally normal if you don't remember your numbers, i wrote them down for you." he handed me a sticky note. i smiled and folded it, putting it into my clear phone case.

"i appreciate it, thanks." i smiled.

-

"and that's how you do it," nick stated confidently.

to be brutally honest, i was still a little lost. we kept just talking about life, random things. i found out nick and i got along really well, and we were the same age.

"i appreciate you walking me through everything," i breathed, rubbing my arm. as we walked back to customer service, i noticed a boy with longer brown hair kneeled down and putting some things on a shelf. i could hear the music playing from his earbuds from here.

nick looked at me and smiled. "oh, and that's my other brother. chris." he smiled. i blinked at him. "you guys all look the same," i started, and he stopped me. "yeah, we're triplets." he chuckled. my eyes went wide as i smiled softly. "wow, you don't see that every day." i chuckled and walked past chris.

"matt, this is y/n. she's gonna be working up here at customer service with you." nick told him, and matt turned to me with a soft smile. i smiled back at him.

"hi, i'm matt." he mumbled, holding out his hand. we shook hands quickly. this guy was so shy but he seemed cool, too. "hi, matt." i smiled at him.

-

the day went by surprisingly fast. i talked a lot with matt, and found out that we have a lot of similar tastes in music and style. "you should talk to my brother chris, he likes that a lot too," he would tell me. i felt like he said it every other sentence, actually. "wow, i really gotta meet this chris guy then, don't i?" was how i finally responded.

matt nodded with a warm smile. "yeah, you do." he smiled.

he helped me a lot with customers throughout the day, and learning the system. he was very helpful, and the way he spoke with customers was kind of admirable. i was excited to be as knowledgeable as he was to those who needed it.

"what do you drive?" he asked me after helping someone, and i blinked. "oh, i don't drive- i walked here." i smiled at him, but my smile dropped when i noticed him look at me with shock, and some worry. "you walked here?" he asked, blinking a few times. i shrugged. "yeah, my house is literally right around the corner.

"i can take you home, i wouldn't walk around at night," he stated firmly, looking at me with only seriousness. i smiled softly. these guys were really nice. "i'd umm.. i'd like that, actually." i smiled.

"matty-poo, are you clocked out yet?" a voice rang in the distance, very similar to his.

"i told you to stop calling me that, chris. have you met y/n?" he questioned, smiling at him. i looked over at chris and felt like i might stop breathing in that moment.

he was stunning. and he may have looked nearly identical to the other two, but something about his hair and the way it perfectly fell on his head, the way he was dressed so laid back and clearly himself yet still appropriately for work.

"y/n?" i heard matt say as i turned quickly to him and then back to chris. "oh, right, sorry. hi, name's y/n," i chuckled shyly and held out my hand. chris, instead of shaking my hand, dapped me up and snapped softly afterwards. i chuckled. i didn't know people did that in boston, too.

"hi, i'm chris." he smiled softly.

"i gotta finish cleaning up a few things here, if you and y/n wanna head to the car? we're giving her a ride home." matt mumbled as he was getting the trash together. i offered to help, but this guy insisted on doing closing duties for the night.

"oh okay sick, sure. come on, y/n." chris stated and began walking towards the car, pulling his hoodie over his head. i followed closely behind him. it was sort of awkward at first, but i heard his music again and smiled softly. i tapped his shoulder, indicating i wanted to tell him something.

"poppin by yeat?" i asked, and he blinked a few times, fully putting his earbuds away and into his pocket. "damn, you listen to year?" he smiled and put his hands in his pockets.

i chuckled and shrugged. "i dabble. i listen to whatever sounds cool." chris smiled. "good taste." i nodded as we approached what i assumed was their car. a kia sedona. simple, but perfect for them, i thought.

chris leaned against the side of the car, and after some thought, i leaned against the car beside him. "the stars are really nice here in boston, much easier to see than in los angeles." i chuckled. chris looked at me as he hadn't heard the rundown yet. "you're from los angeles?" he questioned, and i nodded softly. "that's sick." he stated and turned back to the sky. "me and my brothers have always wanted to go." he smiled softly to himself.

i chuckled and nodded, having heard a few times but decided to keep my mouth shut. "it's nice, but i guess because i'm used to it, it really isn't that exciting." i hummed. he seemed to understand what i was saying.

we sat in silence for a few moments before he turned to me. "why'd you move?" he asked, and i scoffed. "i um.. my mom got a new job. just like in the movies." i mumbled with a soft laugh, and chris smiled at me. "you graduate?" he asked, and i nodded. "yeah, left a week and a half afterwards." i mumbled. he frowned. "i'm sorry to hear," he replied, and i smiled at him. "don't be. i appreciate it though." he smiled softly. "yeah, no problem."

we sat in silence before he turned to me and popped open his airpods case, motioning it towards me. "airpod?" he asked, and i smiled and carefully took one, placing it in my ear. i checked them beforehand.

he put on music and we sat in silence and listened to his playlist. without a doubt, we had the same taste in music.

"y/n!!! how was your first day!!" nick shouted from the distance as he ran towards their car, making me smile brightly.

-

the car ride was peaceful, i sat beside nick in the backseat while matt drove and chris accompanied him in the passenger seat. chris and matt argued for about five minutes before we left about who would have the aux, and i smiled when chris got the aux and put on a song i was fairly familiar with.

"and then a left here," i stated, humming softly to the music. i saw matt shoot chris a glance, resulting in chris smacking matt's arm.

"aaand it's here," i smiled and sat up, waiting for matt to come to a stop before undoing my seatbelt. "i really appreciate you guys for today, thank you for helping me today and making me feel at home." i smiled gently. "i'll see you guys tomorrow?" i mumbled, and matt shook his head. "nick and i are off tomorrow, but chris will be there." he mumbled, and chris gave me a big thumbs up. i smiled softly and nodded, waving and jogging to my door.

-

considering the store closed at midnight, it was about 12:45 by the time i got in my room and sighed. my parents were asleep. i looked around and hummed to myself.

i'll unpack tomorrow morning, i thought.

i changed and laid in bed in my pajamas, staring at my ceiling. i really did have a great day, but chris and the way he just seemed to understand me really struck me. i looked at my hands and sighed softly.

no way i have lived here for two days and already find a guy cute.

i let out a deep, hefty sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. i'll see where it goes, i thought.

and with that, i slowly fell asleep, looking forward to working with chris tomorrow.

HELLO PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT U GUYS THING i feel like i rambled so bad in this??? this is my first thing i've written in a long time and it's very much like..... a pilot? it really goes through the reader meeting the triplets and going through the first day - i APROMISEDJGKSAJDFG it gets more interesting UGHHH ok happy 5am goodnight <333 sincerely, apollo <33

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Isekaied Reversed Pt. 5 ✦ 」

↳ Your nutritions had slowly decreased overtime, thus you needed to head out for a grocery trip! Surprisingly, you ran into a cat and, unfortunately, as well as trouble.

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

It's been approximately 46 days since Xiao made his arrival out of nowhere.

Over the course of the days—weeks, the two of you slowly bonded as time flowed, albeit it was rough the first few weeks, your relationship with him gradually blossomed.

Comparing since a few weeks ago, you've gotten to the point where he could be comfortable enough around you to let his guard down for a while—even better that he didn't draw out his spear with every corner he turned.

In all, you guys were mutuals at best—which was quite progress in your book.

.

"You have to be shitting me."

Xiao's eyes glanced over to you, his brow raised.

You sighed, closing the fridge. "We're out ingredients."

You walked over towards your bag, picking up your wallet which thankfully had money—around a rough $50. Unfortunately, that would mean you'd have to save up once again.

Xiao took notice if your downed mood, before squinting his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the problem.

You felt a feeling of eyes watching you. Looking over towards the origin of the feeling, you saw Xiao looking towards you, well, the wallet. Seeing he got caught, he quickly averted his gaze like nothing happened.

You eternally chuckled at his shy actions, before your midn reminded you of your problem.

"Well, Xiao. Looks like we're running out of stuff." You huffed with a grimace before starting to put on your shoes. "I'll be back in uhh..20-30 minutes tops."

Xiao looked towards you before giving a slight nod.

Making your ways to the door, you grabbed your keys, phone, earbuds and wallet before turning the doorknob though swiftly turned around, "right! Do you need anything while i'm out?" You asked the yaksha who shook his head. "Don't spend your money on me, or unnecessary things in general." He sighed. You frowned.

You couldn't tell if that was worded weird or if he really did see himself as unnecessary. Nonetheless, you pushed those thoughts away before giving him a thumbs up but closing the door behind you.

You thought for a minute, looking between your wallet and the door.

'am I listening to that? Hell nah.' You grinned before heading towards your apartment elevator.

.....

Making your way down to Safeway, you yelped and tensed up as you felt something furry brush against your leg.

Quickly looking down, your muscles relaxed when finding out it was only a cat and quite a cute one too.

It was a Edgyptian Mau. It's fur was black with some gray and white spots around it's body. Though it's eyes were the most captivating—they looked like a vibrant sunset.

You were quite surprised that an Egyptian Mau was around this area but decided not to look to deep into it. It was probably someone's pet who ran off and ended up in this dump. Though, that wouldn't stop you from giving it a little pet.

"Aren't you a cutie~" You smiled with awe, kneeling down towards the cat to which the animal slightly staggered back. It calmed down though as you put your hand in front of you, letting it sniff it before melting into your hand as you lightly scratched it's jaw.

"Man, I wish I could take you home.." You whined lightly before sighing as you stood up, the cat letting out a needy call, looking up towards you for more scratches.

"Sorry buddy, I gotta get some things from the market." You cried internally as you looked down at the furry creature. Your heart breaking at seeing it's sad face.

Persevering, you looked away, a single tear falling down as you began to walk away, trying your best to ignore the meows of need.

....

"Tofu...tofu.." You mumbled, trying to recall what isle the food was. Unfortunately, while lost in your train of thought, you felt someone harshly bump into you, causing you to snap back to reality.

The person merely grunted with a harsh, 'watch where your standing' which received just as harsh of a glare from your end.

"Idiot." You muttered before going back to your task.

...

Finally after you payed, you left the store, two bags of groceries-one in each hand.

As you exited the store, you subconsciously scanned the 'lot for the black splotched cat.

Your slightly frowned upon not seeing it anywhere. 'Probably ran back to it's owner.' you shook your head, continuing your way home.

As you walked along the street, you heard small paws running a bit behind you along with desperate calls.

Turning around, you saw the cat once more, only it looked rougher—like it had just came out from a low-grade shelter.

You dropped your bags as it clawed onto your legs, meowing. You slightly hissed at the stinging sensation from the new marks as you picked it up—it trying to hide up onto your shoulder.

"Poor baby, what happene-" Your words were cut short when you suddenly heard shouting. "Give the damn cat back!"

Looking ahead, you saw the same man from the store, holding a...bat?

You had a feeling where this was going so, picking up your bags quickly, you made a run for it as the shouting behind you grew louder.

'fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck,fuck!' You screamed mentally, your legs and arms growing tired with each push but you didn't dare stop. That man seemed restless and merciless, plus, he was right behind your trail.

Unfortunately, you were hit in the shoulder by something hard. Your body giving up as you hit the hard concrete with a thud- the cat standing by you with it's hairs sticking up as it hissed with aggression and fear.

You saw the man try reaching for the cat, though you intervened, by grabbing his hand and biting as hard as you could. The man grunted loudly as you heard a crack and suddenly tasted metal in your mouth.

You grimaced at the metalic taste and gagged a bit.

"You bitch!" He shouted at you before kicking you in the ribs, in return you let out a winded yelp.

As the man saw your stunned state, he went for the black Mau, grabbing it by the back of the neck. Though fortunately, the cat retaliated by scratching the man's hand though led it to be thrown harshly aside. "Fuckin' creature, i'll deal with your shit later." He hissed before turning to you.

You tried getting up only to be hit back down with the same back that knocked you in the first place. "Thats!-" He hit your shoulder, "-for stealing what's mine!" He shouted before he went to strike you at your head, though thankfully you blocked it in time with your arms—feeling a pounding sensation within them.

Suddenly, you looked to the side, finding a very convienent brick. As the manw as distracted, you picked it up and rammed it into the side of the man's ankle.

He shouted curses of pain, giving you a brief break. Unfortunately, it didn't last long before he shouted, going for your head as well as taking a few breaks to kick you around.

Your eyes were teary, feeling bruises forming already. You felt weak and heavy-your body betraying your mind as you screamed it to get up—to do something than lie on the floor helplessly.

"Y'know this wouldn't happened if you just handed us the damn critter. The only person ya' can call for now, tis' God." He snicked, enjoying the sight in front of him.

But something clicked in your brain, and hopefully it worked.

"Xiao!"

The man watched in amusement as you called out a name. "Saying your final goodbyes?" He laughed huskly, but you only gave a grin, "Not quite." You smiled weakly. He stared confused at you but grinned, looking down at your pathetic form.

Suddenly, his view of you was blocked by something, well someone.

Looking up, he was met by a familiar yaksha, his spear centimeters away from his head. He only grinned with amusement once more. "What is this? Some type of costume party?" He laughed though it came to a brief halt and replaced with a winding grunt as he was kicked backwards a few feet on the street.

The man shouted slurs and insults towards the masked yaksha who only replied with silence.

The man's anger grew with each second as he stood from the ground, bat in hands before trying to strike the boy. Unfortunately for him, he was no match for a yaksha. All his strikes were dodged and returned with precision, sharp, powerful and agile blows from the back of the boy's polearm.

Ultimately, near in the end, the man ended on his rear, looking at the immortal in fear before he scurried to get away, embarrassingly. "Keep the damn cat then!"

The yaksha glared at the retreating figure before turning towards you, his mask disappearing onto his belt.

As he helped you get to your feet and wrapped your arm around his neck for support. You saw a glint of concern in his eyes, making your lips curl into a small smile. "Thanks for that back there." You grinned but faltered as you grunted, making Xiao's concern grow.

"Is anything broken?" He asked, his voice stern as ever.

You shook your head, "I don't believe so, just a few-" you were cut with a wave of pain electrocuting you. "-I take that back, a lot of bruising." You chuckled as the adeptus sighed.

Your brows furrowed in worry, glancing back to the animal on the ground. Xiao's gaze followed yours as his expression hardened.

He sighed, knowing where this was going.

.....

Over the course of a few days, you recovered quickly though on the second day, your whole body ached and you ultimately stayed in bed for 24 hours.

As for the cat, he recovered quite quickly as well—almost too quick. It was like a miracle with everything his body took. Though during the few days of resting and even after, it appeared that the cat took a major liking to the adeptus.

As the adeptus would bring you water or check up on you every once in a while, (though albeit when your not noticing cause he's like that 💀), the cat would be at his side, looking towards you then up to him in worry.

Sometimes he'd be laying next to you but ultimately stayed with Xiao most of thetime.

By day 4, you felt as good as new—a few bruises left but they were like small pebbles in the road.

....

You huffed in defeat as the cat curled up to Xiao's lap.

'wasn't I the one who risked my life for you?' You groaned in annoyance, but it quickly disappeared when seeing the calm expression Xiao carried. If you looked closely, you could see a very faint smile.

You smiled at the sight. "So...what do you think we should name him?"

Xiao snapped from his small trance, "why do we need to keep him?" He asked. Your brows furrowed, "I don't want him to be abandoned. I don't think he has a owner and..I don't want that guy to come after him again." You spoke softly, before smiling, "Plus, I think he really likes you."

Xiao's brows furrowed before he sighed, mumbling something.

You looked up to him, cocking a brow—curious to what he said. "What was that?"

"Qíji. His name." He muttered, looking away towards the ground.

You looked at the yaksha in slight surprise before mumbling the name. "Qíji.." You smiled before looking at the peacefully sleeping fur boy, "well then, welcome home Qíji."

Well look at that, looks like you did get Xiao something after all.

.

.

.

A/N: THAT WAS A LONG WRITE-, I tried making it as least as cliché as I could 😭. But yep, here's part 4, by what part do you guys think Xiao and Reader will end up together??? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Also, feel free to write comments! I love reading them and they keep me motivated! :D

[nightlyrequiem]

Be Still My Heart

Chapter 2- Analyze, Adapt, Overcome

Masterlist AO3 Next Previous

New Chapter Every Saturday

You're the best in the meth industry but a new product suddenly pops up. You and your boss, Valeria, must figure out who is making it so you can take back the market. All the while tension is building between the two of you.

A/N: This is one is a bit short and a little uneventful, but I promise you it gets good. I'm very excited to get to the later chapters.

Tags/Warnings: Illegal Substances, Boss Employee Relationship, Angst, Some Hurt/Comfort, Violence, Manipulation, Suggestive Themes, Smut (But Only in CH19.), Dual POV

 Even after a few weeks, you can't get that meth out of your mind. You lightly swish your hips to the beat of the song playing in your earbuds. Your gloved hands carefully pour the liquidated Red Phosphorus into an Erlenmeyer flask. Even through the gas mask you can still pick up wafts of the garlicy smell of the chemical. You'll have to talk to Valeria about getting a new a gas mask. Destroying your lungs is not one of your goals in life. While you work on this batch your mind strays to the meth Valeria brought you. The Enginuity of its creation is both impressive and irritating. You're a little upset that you didn't think to use morphine. Although that isn't entirely your fault. Getting unlicensed morphine here is like pulling teeth. That's why Las Almas's choice of drug isn't heroin.

You inaccurately hum along to the song while you measure the proper amount of Sulfuric Acid to add to the Red Phosphorus. You're very precise with your cooking. Too little and it won't be as potent, too much and you'll blow it up. You learned that one the hard way. Someone abruptly taps you on the shoulder and you yelp in surprise, almost dropping the Sulfuric Acid. You set it down on the steel counter and turn to look at the intruder. Corra's light brown eye's stare back at you, shining with amusement.

"Valeria wants to see you in her office." She informs you. Her eyes dart to the equipment behind you.

"Alright, tell her I'll be right there I just need to finish up." You reply. Corra leaves and you turn back around to swiftly finish up this batch.

Once done, you leave it in the big metal container to let the liquid product ferment into the iconic methamphetamine crystals. You make your way out of the lab after properly disrobing out of your PPE and neatly stuffing it back into the locker. On your way towards Valeria's office, you're ignored by the others. You see two of her worker's snorting something off of a table. You assume it's your product. You'll have to tell Valeria about that. Like you'll need to tell her about the gas mask. Come to think of it, you're also severely low on Ephedrine.

You open the door to her office and walk in. Giving Deigo a flat look, one he returns. Valeria gives you a much more friendly look and invites you to sit down.

"I want to discuss this new meth going around." She says. Leaning back and bringing a lit cigarette to her lips. 

"I think it's coming from one of those little gangs that have been popping up." Diego remarks. Furrowing his brows. Recently the Cartel has been dealing with new gangs that think they have what it takes to compete. After Valeria was arrested, multiple people began vying for the metaphorical crown. Her incarceration created a power vacuum, as Valeria would put it.

You shake your head at Deigo's claim, refuting it quickly.

"No, I don't think it's even being produced in Las Almas, let alone Mexico." You object. Both Deigo and Valeria look at you.

"Why do you say that?" Asks Valeria. You look at the wall. It's painted some muted red colour. It makes the room feel smaller. 

"Because," You say, staring at the wall. "morphine is such a hassle to obtain, if someone was stealing it, we'd know. And if there were a group big enough to pay hush money to hospitals, we'd know about them too."

Valeria nods in agreement.

"She's right." Valeria murmurs. Deigo rubs a hand over his knee, smoothing over the denim of his pants.

"There is that growing nuisance in Pajaro Azul." He grumbles. Pajaro Azul, Las Almas's sister city. You went there once and hated it. It even has it's own bigwig cartel. You'd never tell anyone, but they scare you a little bit. The men look ten times meaner and the man who runs it is crazy. You prefer the traditional small-town cartel in Las Almas. Even if their reach and influence is anything but.

"Let them deal with it." You say, furrowing your brows. "If the meth is coming from there then I doubt the Pajaro Azul Cartel will let that slide for much longer."

Valeria stubs out her smoke and stretches. Deigo fixes you with a look of annoyance.

"They've let them get this far." He grunts. "They're a bunch of pussies. We need to take care of it ourselves." 

You look to Valeria for backup but she's looking at Deigo. Regarding him with careful consideration.

"I'll think about it." She says. "I don't want to tread on their toes though. A war is the last thing we need right now." Her gaze darkens. Just a year ago, Valeria was caught by Los Vaqueros, aided by foreign military. The whole town was ravished by one of the groups going rogue and both she and the town are still recovering.

It's thanks to you, in your humble opinion, that the cartel is healing so fast. Your meth is making them great money. Well, it was. Until that other stuff just appeared out of thin air. The thought brings a jealous scowl to your face.

"How did that new batch do?" You ask. Looking at Valeria intently. You worry the inside of your cheek. Valeria glances at Diego. Nodding at him. He takes the cue and stands up, brushing off his pants and lumbering out of the room, shutting the heavy wooden door behind him. The office feels much lighter without his intrusive presence. "It didn't sell." She says.

You frown at her. "What?"

"Most of our usual customers weren't buying." Valeria explains. "The other stuff is cheaper and better."

The statement is a wrecking ball to your pride. Cheaper and better? You frown deeply at the news.

"Well..." You start, picking at a loose thread on the sleave of your shirt. "I'll have to come up with a new recipe." Something more addictive than the Super Meth. Which will be hard without morphine. Valeria stares at you as you go quiet, retreating into the dark folds of your brain. Meth causes intense sugar cravings. Which is one of the main reasons meth users have bad teeth. That and the Acetone in it reacts badly to saliva, drying it up which makes keeping bad bacteria at bay much harder, causing cavities and rot.

You brighten. That's it, sugar.

"I need sugar." You tell her. Looking up at her with renowned determination. Valeria blinks but nods.

"Okay." She agrees. "How much?"

"Three pounds should be enough." You say, then pause. Something in your mind is wiggling for attention but the harder you try to think about it, the less clear it becomes. You needed to do something. You shrug it off. If it were important, you would have remembered.

Valeria dismisses you and you head back down to the lab. You sit at your little desk and begin to start planning out the proper ratios of your ingredients. Excitement wells up inside of you. Nothing is better than a good challenge. You spend hours carefully crafting a new recipe. A few orange crystals of the meth sit on your desk for motivation.

[thoselethalarts]

𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖚𝖘 𝕿𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖉 - 𝕻𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝕾𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖞

(SSR) Birthday Union Jacket (Part 1): “Happy Birthday!”

(Octavinelle Dorm: Birthday Party Venue)

Marcus: (Siiip...) Ahh... This coffee'll help keep me awake enough to finish the birthday interview, for sure. Marcus: Now I've gotta wait until the person chosen by the “Magic Birthday Dice” to just show up... Marcus: Just how many random magic trinkets do they have here to decide on lottery? I feel like every time something happens they have something new up their sleeve to figure it out.

???: Apologies for the wait!

(Stahli enters the room)

Stahli: Guten tag and happy birthday, Marcus! I'll be the one taking care of you for today~

Marcus: Oh, Stahli. Somehow, I'm relieved it's you of all people presenting. Glad you could make it.

Stahli: Thank you! Before we do anything though, I wanted to give you something! Stahli: I thought long and hard to pick something that I thought would be perfect for you, so I hope you like it!

Marcus: Oh- really? You didn't have to actually get me a present or anything. Really, it's alright.

Stahli: Nonsense! It's a beloved tradition that the presenter brings a gift to the man of the hour, so I'm going to uphold that tradition! Stahli: You should be thankful, really. My grandmother used to insist that on her birthday she should expect visitors to stop by and shower her with food and presents all day for the day of her birthday Stahli: And, of course, when my sisters and I were born that we should expect the same sort of treatment from our friends and families! Every birthday was nothing but chaos in our home! Stahli: If anything, this is far more tame of a celebration in comparison to what I'm used to~

Marcus: Geez, yeah, I could never handle anything like that. B-But, still... if you're going to insist, then I guess I won't stop you.

Stahli: Very good! So, happy birthday to you again! Here you are, mein freund~

Marcus: Yeah, t-thanks. Wow, you really went to town wrapping this up all nice, too.

(Marcus opens the present Stahli gave to him)

Marcus: Oh, you got me a pair of over-ear headphones.

Stahli: I did! I remember hearing you complain about how your earbuds that you currently use are slowly going out, so I thought perhaps you might like a new pair! Stahli: These ones are wired, just like the ones you use, and they're supposed to have very good sound quality as well as being noise-suppressing! They're the best that I was able to find on the market while being within the gifting budget~ Stahli: Truthfully, I tried to find a pair that were made by the same brand that I see you using every day, but sadly I could not find anything made by them. Stahli: Actually, I could not find anything on the company that made them either! I'm not sure know how, but I wonder if perhaps the company may have gone out of business since you last bought those.

Marcus: O-Oh, is that so? Well, that's- that's a shame. I do really like the earbuds I already have, after all. I'll have to look for a new brand for some more in the future, I guess. Marcus: These are gonna work great for what I need them for, though. I like earbuds cuz you can lay down with them on, but I like these big, over-the-ear ones too. The sound quality's always way better with them, that's for sure. Marcus: These will be nice for when I'm studying, too, since they're noise canceling I won't be easily distracted while I work. Marcus: You really did put a lot of work into picking the right present, I can tell. Thanks, Stahli.

/ To Be Continued...

[cloudycaffeinatedcryptid]

What do you think each of the hacketteer's most cherished personal belonging is?

thank you for the ask, i love Making Up Things About My Blorbos hours. this really makes me think bc everyone bonds with such different things for random reasons. i've had a rock on my bookshelf for 7+ years bc a friend from a volunteer group found it for me & i like the way it looks. so it's always so different. still, i'll try

Jacob's for sure is some sort of lucky charm that he hangs from the rearview mirror of his truck, that he has one hundred percent belief in. i can't decide what it is - a horseshoe or rabbits foot or something else - but he thinks he's invincible with that thing

Kaitlyn will take it to her grave, but hers is her half of the tacky "best friends" necklace Jacob got for them when they were little, and no one will ever find out. she keeps it hidden but she still keeps her half, even tho she's sure Jacob didn't keep his (he did, it's buried in his sock drawer)

Nick, if you ask him, will say it's his pocketwatch - passed down through his father's side, it's a family heirloom, y'know? but he can't read analog clocks for shit & he has no idea what he's going to do with this watch. truthfully, it's a pair of limited edition Heelies signed by a local musician that he got when he was twelve. he's keeping those babies till the value skyrockets

Abi has her sketchbook, obviously, & probably many more that she's filled up over the years, but she has this cat mug with a chip in one ear that she's had for years & she loves with all her heart. comfort mug <3

Ryan loves his earbuds & probably has a lot of things he keeps for Reasons but i choose to believe his sister writes him letters every time he goes to camp & he keeps every single one of them tucked away in his room for when he needs them

Emma enjoys having all of her things. she loves stuff. she has lots of rings & earrings & bangles she thinks are cute, she has a box full of scrapbooking supplies, three different wax melters that she liked the designs of. but her favorite thing is a little music box she found at a flea market a long time ago, with a beat up little ballerina figure, that she keeps all her most sentimental items in. the love note with the strawberry-scented sticker she got in fourth grade. a gumball machine ring she got with her best friend in middle school. her first ever concert ticket

Dylan loves things. his necklace that he never lets us see, Schrodinger's baby teeth & old collar, weird or cool coins he finds while out. pretty much everything has emotional value to him. but he has a little wolf figurine that's scratched, beat up - he's owned it forever, barely remembers where he got it. but it sits right next his computer & he swears it keeps all his equipment running. he begs it for mercy whenever his computer starts to crash. he calls it His Royal Furriness, Lord Wolfington

[coldslaws-gear-station]

he’s lived through a few eras, now. shed his old self like a nincada molting, left behind with his mistakes in a world he can never return to.

this latest era is his favorite, personally. there have always been villains - wherever there are deities, they crop up, as he’s learned (and he’s half convinced that the deities bring the villains into play just to get a kick out of eternal life, else they’d be damned to eternal boredom.) these villains, though… none of them succeed.

akari screams. and he laughs.

he’s walking down the streets of nimbasa city. this place has become a temporary residence, now that team plasma has been taken down. unova has entered the latest period of relative safety, and he’s taking advantage of it.

the fair is open this time of year. people chatter, and pokemon run around, chasing and playing. he can feel prog in her pokeball, yearning to come out and join. after a minute of consideration, he lets the togekiss out. “stay close, prog,” he warns her. “i don’t know how dangerous unova is - there might be some team plasma who haven’t gotten the message.”

i am impressed that you made it this far, arceus told him. what would you ask of me?

i want to make a new world.

i’m afraid i can’t give you that. but i can let you see the new world when it comes.

no, that’s not - that’s - volo tried to protest, but his throat squeezed and he choked, falling to his knees. he grabbed at his throat, trying to push out whatever blockage the god of the universe might have put in there.

volo vincam, i can see your heart. you do this selfishly. so you cannot see what is best for you, arceus said. i will give you what is best for you according to your wishes.

but the world is so unfair, volo wanted to protest, but he was forced silent.

you will live to see this world better itself, arceus promised. it will treat you with love if you let it.

in that moment, volo vowed to get revenge. he would never let that happen. what love could this world offer, anyway.

there’s a farmer’s market at the fair today, apparently. two events in one. volo pushes his earbuds in, turning up the volume. they sent me away, to find them a fortune, a chest filled with diamonds and gold; the house was awake-

it’s calming. he falls into step with the beat as he strolls, looking around himself, observing the fair. he accidentally makes eye contact, but looks away, not quite seeing the person’s face.

after a half-hour, he finds a small playground, quieter than the rest of the area.

he sits down, pulls his bag into his lap. he takes out a small lunch bag and a sandwich from that, giving some to prognata. she chirps and does a spin in the air, her wing catching on volo’s earbud cord, ripping it out. “hey-” he says. he hears laughter behind him.

the legends of this new land are rich and interesting. he mainly stays in the catacombs, because he doesn’t want to play too large of a part this time, but he will wreak havoc - he researches, researches, researches, dredging up ancient texts on the gods of this region.

there are times when he sees a shadow of a person, white and rust and silver, but he stays away. it’s just a wraith of a past nuisance, maybe even a zorua sent to torment him. it’s not like it can affect him. the times pass and change, and another young upstart displaced traveller comes and this time, they succeed, and he leaves the kingdom of kalos, tail between his legs, pokemon gone. percarus, the only one by his side - his togekiss has stayed with him since it was a baby, and they’re really the only people there for each other.at least that hasn’t changed.

the boy who laughed is green-haired with a cap and facemask and ponytail. “really?” he asks, and volo blinks.

“really what?” he responds, at the same time as togekiss trills back to the boy.

“oh, your togekiss was talking about how she should get you something sometime in return for all you get her,” the boy says, and volo stares.

“you’re one of them, then,” he says after a silence. “a speaker. was your lineage blessed?”

“huh?” the boy says, and volo wants to pull his beanie low, hood up, hide his face. no. fuck, he embarrassed himself, didn’t he.

he just smiles. “yeah. i’ve met others who could talk to pokemon, and they all had ancestors blessed by arceus itself.” he didn’t get that blessing. (although, he wouldn’t have wanted it.)

“interesting!” the boy says. “but i don’t know who my biological family really is, so i couldn’t tell you.”

“oh.” pack it up boys, we’ve made a social blunder. volo shakes his head. “well, it’s an interesting skill regardless.”

he never did know if ingo made it back to the future, did he.

the boy’s face lights up, and he turns. “hey, over here!” he yells, waving, and three people walk into the area from a nearby walking path.

two of them stop dead, and the third gives them a weird look, walking up to him. she looks to the boy. “hey, n, who’s this?”

“a really good trainer,” n replies, smiling. “he really loves his togekiss, so i decided it would be worth introducing you three to him. what are they doing, by the way?”

he gestures to warden ingo and the zorua from kalos, whispering to each other on the pavement, staring at volo. he feels exposed, like his layers of deception and false backstory have been stripped raw.

“not sure,” the woman says. she sticks a hand out to volo. “i’m elesa. it’s nice to meet you.”

“you too,” he says, keeping calm, shaking her hand. ingo and his zorua seem to come to a decision, and the zorua marches up to them, holding his hand out as well. “i am emmet!” the zorua - emmet - says. “it is nice to finally meet you.”

“finally?” he asks. “our tracks have crossed, although we missed each other.”

“he’s seen you around town,” elesa says. ah. so n is the pokemon translator and elesa is the train-speak translator.

warden ingo also walks up to them.

“hello,” he says. “you are volo, correct?”

“huh?” n looks between the two of them.

“i never told you my name,” volo says, a steely smile on his face. oh, fuck you too, he thinks. “but yes, i am. and you’re warden ingo?”

“i have not been called by that in a long time. now i am ingo, subway boss.”

“what’s-” elesa pulls n to the side and whispers something to him, and n’s face clears, and he looks to volo with a sort of… pity. ew. volo shakes it off.

it’s been a long time since someone pitied him.

occasionally he would find the zorua in the catacombs leaving odd gifts for him. but since then, since he chased off the spirit, nothing.

he’s kept to himself and not let people close, because he’ll just get hurt again.

one time the zorua pretended to wave hi to him. that was the last straw. this off-brand wraith from his past had to go. it never spoke, never interacted with him, only left him the most random things - a fucking handle off of a push trolley? what the fuck was that supposed to mean? - and it had to go. anyway, he made sure it didn’t return to the catacombs. at least, not while he was there.

//and that's the wip!

ooohhhh!! this is super cool!! i love the arceus stuff especially i think it's really interesting. and the whole concept of the fic is fun overall :D also post pla ingo back in unova hello!! YESSSS

also you gave a really solid vocabulary and strong writing voice which is epic. love to see it /gen. i find the out of order story telling really neat as a way to get volo's story in bits and pieces without revealing your full hand, although idk if you wrote like that cuz you wanna tell the story in that order or cuz you had a couple different scenes in mind and just wrote what came to you (i do that a ton<3) either way YEAAAHHHHH!! keep writing!!

also he's not a zorua volo. fucked up. be nice. and kalos emmet??? hello?? there's so much im curious about.. if you finish/publish keep me posted :3

[aesteraceae]

Boiling Over

Pairing: Minho/Chan, Minho & Chan

Rating: Gen

Summary: Chan has a nasty habit of throwing his health to the wind, and when his mind finally cracks under the pressure, Minho is there to help him through it.

Word count: 4.1k

Tags under the cut!

Tags: SFW, Age regression, hurt/comfort, stress relief, Chan is overworking himself as usual, Minho has Things To Say about that, angst, little Bang Chan, Caregiver Lee Minho, stim toys, panic attacks, crying, autistic Bang Chan

Also posted on ao3 here.

Notes: This will be part of a series of Chan age regressing because I am contractually obligated to project on Chan whenever I can. This is also for his birthday. No I'm not 2 weeks late shut UP.

Also, this fic isn't explicitly romantic in any sense beyond Chan calling Minho pretty like once, I wrote it with the implication that they like eachother (bc I'm a minchan truther at heart) but you can 1000% read this fic as platonic with no trouble at all.

Tags: @simpracha @sunnyville36 @toastyseungmo @sstarryyoong @decaffedthoughts @bunnypig18 @xcookiemonsteer

This is not going well.

Chan forces himself not to slam the studio door behind him, slumping down into his desk chair and shoving his hands into his hair.

His entire morning was spent talking with department executives and marketing managers and other producers, all asking him the same question; when will the next title track be ready.

And Chan has had to tell every single one of them, multiple times, that no it isn't finished and yes he's working on it and no he doesn't need any help.

It's almost finished, is the thing. He has the guide, tentative lyrics, he's even shown it to the other members, but he doesn't like it.

He's been doing this a very long time, he knows what a good song sounds like, knows what he's capable of making, and this is so far from his best he's terrified to show it to anyone.

The other members said they liked it, of course, but Chan knows better than to take their words at face value. He doesn't think they'd lie out of malice, of course, but they can all see the way Chan has been... Strung a little tighter than usual, lately.

He wouldn't put it past them to just say the song is good to not anger him or stress him out further. And he can't even blame them, really— if anyone said anything about the song to him right now, positive or otherwise, he doesn't know what he'll do.

Break something, probably. Or cry.

He wants to do both right now, but he shoves the urges away and opens up the editing software. He grabs his headphones a bit too hard and knocks over their stand, and he just watches it clatter to the floor, loudly.

He leaves it there.

Maybe kicks it a little, just for good measure.

It's probably not good to let this anger simmer underneath the surface like this, especially if one of the others comes to check on him, but he doesn't have time to go blow off steam in the gym.

Instead, he puts his headphones on and opens the file, shoving his anger into a box to be dealt with later.

· · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Chan's anger never lingers, at least not when it's because of stress.

By that night, nearing 2 in the morning, all of his anger has fizzled out into bone-deep exhaustion.

His ears ache under the headphones, but he left his earbuds in the dorms so he ignores the pain. Similarly, something in his back keeps sending sharp pains throughout his body every time he shifts wrong, and it's unpleasant, but it fades after a moment so he doesn't bother worrying about it.

He's listening to a new version of the track when he feels the anger starting to bubble up again, except it's decided to show itself in tears this time rather than violence.

He will not cry over a song, he won't.

But it's horrible. It feels like every change he makes somehow makes the song worse, even the tricks he's relied on in the past. He's searched for inspiration, looked at old songs, even rewritten entire sections but it's still wrong.

He claws the headphones off and presses his hands into his eyes until bright colors flash behind them, forcing the tears back. The burn of it forces his brain to reconnect with his body, and he realizes that he hurts all over.

How long has he been sitting here?

Shakily, he reaches for his phone.

There's a few messages in the group chat, an email from the project designer that he swiftly ignores, and 3 missed calls from Minho.

Fuck.

He's trying to calculate the math of how long he's been in here and how he missed his ringtone 3 times in a row when someone knocks on the door.

Chan considers not answering, pretending the room is empty. He can't let anyone else see him in this state, he cant. tears are clinging to his lashes, he's in pain, and he doesn't even remember the last time he slept.

There's a moment when he thinks it will work, if he stays very still, but then the door clicks open.

Minho pushes into the room, placing his key card neatly back into his bag.

He looks like he just got out of the shower, hair still damp and fluffy, cheeks still a bit flushed from the heat. He's pretty, because Minho always is, and Chan almost says so before he gets a hold of himself.

"Minho!" He says, instead, running hands through his hair both to tame the rat's nest it must be and to hide how wet his eyes are.

Fuck, his back hurts. When did just moving his arms over his head start to hurt this badly?

"Chan. It's like 2 in the morning, why are you still working?"

Minho has that disapproving look in his eyes, dark and unquestionable. He must be here to drag Chan back to the dorms, but he can't go back yet, not with the song like this.

"Oh, you know how it is. I, uh, got in the zone, I guess."

Minho shoots him an unimpressed look and reaches into his bag, pulling out a bottle of water.

He must have grabbed it from the breakroom downstairs, and the tiniest sliver of affection breaks through the panic buzzing through his veins.

He doesn't wait for Chan to take the bottle, just uncaps it and forces it into his hand. Chan knows better than to fight when Minho gets like this, so he drinks.

And... Fuck.

The water feels like heaven in his mouth, cool and refreshing and perfect. His head relents in its pounding, and he slumps down into the chair.

Minho passes him another bottle and takes the empty one, and Chan doesn't have to look at him to see his disapproving look.

"How long have you been working in here?" Minho asks, picking up his headphone stand from across the room. Huh, he'd almost forgotten about that.

"Couple hours," He lies, trying and failing to figure out the real answer. For some reason he can't wrap his brain around the numbers, the passage of time — he isn't sure when he even got here, just that it was daytime... Maybe morning? Noon?

"Bullshit. None of us have even seen you today, and you missed dinner. What's going on?"

Chan ducks under the anger in Minho's voice, trying to hide the tremor in his hands.

"Nothing's going on," He tries, "I promise I'm fine. I grabbed something from downstairs a little while ago." It's a flimsy lie, and he knows it doesn't land the moment he finishes speaking.

Minho just clicks his tongue and walks over to the trashcan in the corner, perfectly empty. The studio is immaculate, no trace of a wrapper or package.

Minho is silent for a long moment, only speaking when Chan starts to squirm, practically burning alive with the awkwardness and disapproval. He doesn't know why it's bothering him so much, but Minho looks upset, upset with Chan, and it almost hurts worse than his back.

"I thought we agreed not to lie to eachother, Chan." Minho finally says, and there's a hint of pain, there, under the anger.

Chan honest to God whines, trying to curl in on himself and stopping with a wince. He doesn't want to lie, especially not to Minho. He doesn't want to be a disappointment, doesn't want to be bad.

Minho doesn't like being lied to, he hates it, they've had so many arguments over little white lies that Chan or the others didn't think we're important but hurt Minho deeply. Chan knows Minho hates being lied to, but here he is doing it, without a second thought.

He's horrible.

"M' sorry," He mumbles, twisting his fingers into his jeans. He's being bad, and Minho is disappointed in him, and he has every right to be.

Part of Chan is screaming to correct the issue, but a far stronger part wants to sit in this discomfort, squirm under Minho's pained and angry gaze. He deserves it, Chan thinks. It's a fitting enough punishment, this gnawing ache in his chest that begs for praise forced to receive the opposite.

It hurts, but Chan deserves it for being bad, for hurting Minho.

... Wait.

Chan blinks, vision refocusing on a spot on the wall. Being bad?

No. No no no no no-

"I'm really okay," He says, a little bit frantic, heart rate picking up, because this cannot be happening.

The only reason he'd be thinking like that, thinking he deserves punishment or that he was being bad is if he was slipping, and that cannot happen with Minho in here.

"I'll be back home in an hour, okay?" He says, spinning in the chair so he doesn't have to look at Minho. Something about him being here is making Chan slip, hard, And maybe looking away would solve the issue. He just has to get Minho to leave, then he can handle this on his own and everything will be fine.

"No, you've been here long enough. I'm taking you home."

No.

"Min, I'm not-"

Minho just holds up a hand, pulling Chan's chair away from the desk and back to face him.

"This isn't a discussion. I won't let you weasel your way out of it, either— you've been in here for at least nine hours, that's enough. You need food and sleep."

"I'm fine. I'll grab something from downstairs, alright? But I really need to get this finished."

Minho doesn't answer— he just reaches over the desk to save the file. Chan doesn't realize what he's doing until his hand shifts to the power button, clicking off his laptop.

"Minho!" Chan snaps, trying to swat his hands away, but Minho just closes the laptop and shoves it into his bag, zipping it up tight.

"Are you seriously— Minho, give that back!"

Minho ignores him, grasping his arm and pulling. Chan stumbles out of the chair, and any other day it would be perfectly fine, but his back immediately protests at the movement.

He collapses down to his knees, trying to breathe through the pain and keep himself from crying. He will not cry in front of Minho, he won't.

"Chan? Hey, what's wrong?" Minho is crouched in front of him, anger entirely forgotten in favor of worry.

And Chan tries, he really does, but his back hurts and he knows he's already crying, and he can feel his grip on everything sensible slipping away.

"Leave," He begs, even though he knows it's futile. Minho won't leave him like this because he's a good friend, and he cares, and right now that care is going to burn Chan alive.

"I'm not going anywhere, Chan. I'm right here. You're safe, I've got you."

Chan whines against his will, listing forward, further into Minho's arms. He takes him easily, sitting completely on the floor to pull Chan into his lap. And Chan goes, because Minho feels so much bigger than him right now. He doesn't stand a chance at resisting, and he wants to sit in Minho's lap, wants to cry into his shoulder and know that the world won't end once he's done.

"Min..." He mumbles, wet and pathetic and sad, and Minho makes a noise like a wounded animal.

"Come here, Chan." He urges, even as Chan tucks his head into Minho's neck.

He puts a hand on Chan's neck, gently playing with the hair curling there, and the other slips underneath his shirt to rub massaging circles into the small of his back.

Chan doesn't even stand a chance— he drops so hard and so fast that he has to blink his vision back into focus.

His eyes slip right back closed, though, because Minho is still massaging him, both his neck and back, steadily loosening the knots and aches there.

It's good, it's blissful, and Chan lets his mind go entirely blank.

· · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

The thing with Chan is that he never knows when to quit.

Well, that's not quite true. Most of the time, he's perfectly happy to quit, when necessary; scrapping a song or going back to the foundations of a dance, but sometimes, like now, he gets so caught up in finishing something that he can't even fathom the idea of stopping.

Minho knew Chan was spiraling, he’s known since this morning when Chan refused breakfast and left the dorms in a hurry for a meeting. He knew when he didn’t respond in the group chat, he knew when Chan missed three of his calls in a row.

Guilt settles deep in Minho's stomach as he holds Chan, shuddering and shaking and hurting. He talked himself out of dragging Chan back for dinner because he thought he was worrying too much, but now he cant help but think that he didn’t worry enough. There are headphone marks around his ears, for god's sake.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just relax, Chan, I’ve got you.” And god, Minho didn’t think it was possible to feel fondness and fear at the same time, but here he is. Chan nuzzles further into his neck, trembling all over, and Minho has absolutely no idea what to do. Chan rarely cries in front of them, and even if he does the very last thing he wants is to be comforted.

It makes Minho’s chest hurt, sometimes, how insanely solitary Chan gets when he’s upset, but this is almost worse. He’s so far gone that Chan cant help but cling to him. Minho blinks tears back.

“Let’s get you to the couch, yeah? Come on, Channie, it’ll be more comfy there.” Chan whines, unwilling to move, so Minho does something a bit stupid.

He shifts Chan just enough that he can loop his arm underneath his legs, settling the other around his back.

Chan is heavy, but not too heavy for Minho to carry a few feet. He settles them back onto the couch, lying down so Chan can stretch his back a bit. The new position seems to switch something in Chan, and his sobs quiet, somewhat. He slips one of his arms up to cup Minho’s neck, like he’s… Oh. Like he’s feeling his heartbeat. His ear is pressed right over his heart, as well.

God, Minho is going to explode from all of this sympathy one day.

“That’s it,” He soothes, “I'm here. Feel my heartbeat? Try and breathe with me, okay? Can you do that for me?” The words come easy — Years of helping the other members through panic and anxiety attacks make things like this nearly second nature. In any other scenario Minho might feel awkward about speaking to Chan like this — not condescending, exactly, but something akin to it — but right now, anything else feels like a cardinal sin. Chan needs softness, right now; he needs a gentle voice to guide him, to remind him that its okay for him to relax.

It takes him a while, maybe 10 minutes, to completely match Minho’s breathing, but he’s so determined that it's almost cute. His voice hiccups every now and then and Minho can see the frustration on his face, but he just tries again with the same determination.

Minho is besotted. He knows it, and he doesn't really try to hide the love in his eyes as he looks down at Chan, whispering sweet encouragements into his ear as his breathing steadily evens out.

“Good job, Chan,” he whispers, when the last of the tension drains out of his shoulders. Chan hums and shifts to look up at him, eyes wide and glossy and vulnerable, and Minho forgets how to breathe.

“I was good?” He whispers, voice rough from crying but still somehow higher than normal, so sweet that Minho has to take a long, deep breath before he can respond. “So good. Look, you’re breathing smooth again, right?”

Chan nods, settling his head back against Minho’s chest, and Minho almost feels bad for being relieved, but Christ. That look, his eyes, so trusting and soft and loving, its—

It’s a lot.

It’s good.

“Breathing with Hyung,” Chan says, sweet, almost sing-song, and Minho…

Hm.

Minho starts to pet Chan's hair again, smiling when he melts against his chest, and takes advantage of it to think.

Minho knows a lot of things. He’s researched a lot of things, either for Jisung or Felix or Jeongin, ways to deal with stress or handle panic attacks or sensory overloads, anything he might need to make sure he knew what to do if one of the members needed him.

This… Minho thinks he knows what this is.

It would make sense, really. Chan joined the company at 13, barely a teenager and still very much a child, put into a stress-filled environment in a new country alone. It would make perfect sense for Chan to cope with that stress by regressing into a younger age, where he wouldn't have to think about training or producing.

That guilt pokes at him again — Chan has been stressing over this song for ages, and Minho knew, but he thought Chan could handle it, or at least that Chan would ask Jisung or Changbin for help.

None of that mattered now, though. Now Chan needs him, and they can talk about asking for help later.

“Hyung?”

Minho has to bite his lip to keep from cooing at how cute Chan sounds, schooling his expression into something calm and attentive.

"Yeah, baby?"

Chan takes a moment to preen at the nickname, but takes a deep breath and sobers. Minho can't help but frown— the serious expression, while familiar, doesn't seem to suit Chan, right now.

"I'm sorry for lying. 'was mean. I know you don' like it, but I was scared. Sorry."

Minho's heart breaks.

A million microscopic pieces, each and every one sucked into Chan's eyes, big and just the slightest bit teary.

"Oh, Darling. It's okay, I understand. It's okay to be scared." He bites his lip before continuing, but... well. It did hurt, and Minho would only feel worse about it if he didn't even express it.

"But, baby, in the future, you can just tell me what's wrong. I promise, I won't judge or be angry with you for telling the truth, okay?"

Chan nods, crawling up slightly to tuck his head underneath Minho's chin.

"I will, promise."

Minho can't help himself, he presses a soft kiss against Chan's hair. "Thank you for apologizing, baby. You're very sweet."

Chan is silent for a moment, and then—

"Chan?" Minho yelps, gasping a little, because Chan is... sucking on his collarbone?

He jerks back, already babbling out apologies, but Minho pets his cheek to soothe him. "It's okay, it's okay, I was just startled, baby, that's all."

Chan quiets, staring down at his hands in his lap, and there's something in his eyes, a hint of awareness, and... well. Maybe it's a bit selfish, but Minho doesn't want Chan to come out of this headspace just yet. He seems relaxed, less worn down by racing thoughts, more willing to be honest and ask for what he needs.

And Minho wants to provide. He wants to keep helping Chan like this, and maybe it does make him selfish, but Chan needs this, and Minho won't deny him.

"Here, can you hop off of me for a moment, little one?" The nickname does the trick— Chan whines a little and backs up so Minho can move, leaning against the couch like he can't sit up on his own. It's adorable, and Minho moves quickly so he can hold Chan again.

He brought his bag up here because he suspected that Chan would need some things— water, earbuds, painkillers— but there's also a little pocket full of stuff for Seungmin. Noise-canceling headphones, a few stim toys, and what Minho's after now, chewable toys.

Headphones are probably a bad idea now so he leaves those, but he takes out everything else and spreads them out in his hands.

The chewable toys are brand new— they're in the bag for emergencies, but Seungmin is just as overly prepared as he is so they're hardly ever needed — so he opens one of the bags and offers it to Chan.

"You can bite and suck on this for now, okay?"

Chan takes it tenderly, looking awestruck. "But... this is yours?"

Minho puts the other toys on the side table and sits beside him again, suppressing a smile when Chan immediately burrows back into his side.

"They're for whoever needs them, and I think you need them right now. I can... get you something else later, once we've talked about it, but if you just want something to do with your mouth, that should help."

Minho adds a few more things to his list of Things To Talk to Chan About When He's Big Again. Pacifiers, maybe, and Minho specifically caring for him, definitely.

Chan eyes the toy warily for a moment, like he doesn't believe that he can actually have it, but eventually he bites down on it.

His eyes light up.

He doesn't really chew it so much as he sucks on it, but his eyes droop a little and his shoulders slump.

Maybe Minho doesn't entirely suck at this, at least.

"There we go. Is that better?"

Chan nods, eyes slipping fully closed.

"Good. Come on, I'll put on some music, how about that?"

Chan perks up at that, slipping the toy out of his mouth to babble, "Can you sing? Please, Hyung? I'll be good!"

Minho blinks, "You don't have to be good." It comes out without his permission, but he doesn't backtrack. "I don't want you to worry about being good or not disobeying. You're perfect, Chan."

Chan stares at him for a beat, and then he breaks. He whines, high in the back of his throat, and tears flood over his cheeks in waves.

"Whoa, baby, baby, it's okay," Minho is on him in an instant, pulling Chan into his arms and rocking them like he did before.

"M' not, not perfect, not-" He cuts himself off with a painful-sounding hiccup, and Minho's heart aches.

"Shh, little one, it's okay." He says, growing frantic, because it isn't working. Chan is trembling, and instead of hugging Minho back he's covering his face, sobbing into his hands instead of Minho's chest. This is different, this is new, and Minho needs a different approach.

So. He sings.

It starts out shaky, because he's on the verge of tears himself and hasn't sung at all today, but he settles into it easily.

It's a song Chan wrote for him months ago, unreleased because he hasn't had the time to record it. It's short, unfinished, and Minho prays that it'll work.

He's on the second chorus before he notices any change, and it feels like the first sip of water in a desert. Chan shudders, cries quieting, finally tucking his head into Minho's neck.

He tightens his grip, remembering that Chan liked tight hugs, and he breathes.

He sings through the end of the song and Chan finally stops sobbing, just tiny little whimpers against Minho's chest, and he leans them back against the couch.

"I've got you," He murmurs, thinking of the first lines to Chan's favorite song, "I've got you, baby."

· · ────────── ·𖥸· ────────── · ·

Chan wakes up a few hours later, cheeks itchy with dried tears and more relaxed than he's felt in years.

He's... hm. He's lying on Minho's chest.

Minho is asleep, long eyelashes fluttering as his eyelids shift, and Chan can't help but settle back against his chest.

Minho hums, readjusting his hand to hold Chan a little more securely.

"Go back to sleep, little one," He murmurs, voice thick with sleep and fondness.

Jesus. He hasn't slipped up like that in front of someone since he was a trainee.

Chan flushes pink, hazy memories flooding back. He remembers crying, a lot, calling Minho hyung...

Chan can feel mortification creeping up on him, but Minho must notice that he isn't relaxing, because he tightens his grip. One of his hands comes up to hold the back of Chan's head, guiding his ear over Minho's chest.

The steady thump-thump thump-thump of Minho's heartbeat makes Chan melt, against all his better wishes.

"...thank you, hyung."

[bejoomi]

* ♪ – dancing shoes

joomi hasn't seen stevie in too long. all things considered, their current situation is strange and joomi should certainly hang out with stevie like a normal person in a normal way, but as a trainee, joomi doesn't have the luxury of much time for that. instead, he has to get a little creative, and kill as many birds with as few stones as he can.

luckily, stevie is a good sport about just about everything all the time, so naturally, when joomi texted him after far too long without talking, asking him if he wanted to help him with some christmas shopping, stevie said yes. joomi also needs stevie because he figures stevie is far more of an expert on this subject than joomi.

the shopping in question: dancing shoes. not for himself, though; joomi has sneakers that are serviceable enough for dancing, but he knows someone whose serviceable shoes are on their last legs, pretty worn out by now.

he waffled around trying to figure out what to get jinyoung or christmas. he wanted it to be a good present, but he knew if it was too expensive jinyoung would feel bad. he doubts jinyoung has gotten many presents throughout his life, and since joomi has him to thank for much of his previously-foreign holiday cheer this year, he has to get him one. anything would be fine, probably. he knows jinyoung wouldn't be picky. he could get him socks or something and probably call it a day, but...it doesn't feel right.

he thought of getting him some decent-but-not-too-expensive earbuds or something, because joomi figures he'd use those and his are probably shit, but he knows he needs shoes and he knows he'll use those. there's something frightening about it: loving someone enough to give them something so important; to give them such a concrete, daily reminder of you that will outlive you and whatever you are.

"okay, so," joomi starts, staring down shelves of tennis shoes in one of the department stores that is so brightly lit for the holiday season. "i need something that'll work well for dancing, but that isn't super expensive. probably around like, 60,000 won or less, for a budget. i tried to do some research online, but everything was inconclusive and i figured, you're a dancer, you're probably the best person that can help me." he offers stevie a tiny, hopeful smile.

suddenly, he remembers something. "oh!" he exclaims, "i have something for you," and he reaches into the reusable bag he brought with him– so they wouldn't have to use any plastic bags, but also so he could hold stevie's gift more easily. he pulls out a tiny boxed figurine of a blonde little elf with freckles on its face. "i saw this and thought he looked like you. i figured your mom would like it if anything, so if you hate it, just regift it to her," he laughs lightly. "i kinda forgot to get you something cooler so i just got it from the christmas market before i met you here," he admits.

–– @bexstevie

[house-of-lovin]

Other than the obvious heart eyes what are some other things Tara did that screamed she was in love with you in the over universe? Like what small little things did she do around the group that just made Mindy and Anika look at each other just knowing and being tired of it lol

LMAO I WENT OVERBOARD WITH THIS

Whenever you bring Tara coffee, you always bring the other girls their orders too. It can’t be too obvious that you only wanted to see Tara – even though everyone already knows. She always lights up with a large smile as soon as she sees you; immediately pulling you to sit beside her. Even though you protest, saying you have class soon. She doesn’t listen, just throws your arm over her shoulder.

Might nuzzle under your arm.

Always asks to take a sip of your drink first saying she likes yours better. She sulks and pouts until you switch drinks. Then hides the shy, triumphant smile behind a sip.

During game nights at the Carpenter’s apartment, she always makes sure to save a seat beside her for you. Would glare at anyone who tries to sit next to you. If there isn’t space on the couch, she’d pull you onto the floor and shares a blanket with you (entangles hands under the blanket)

*everyone just gives them the side eye*

During card games, if pairs are required, best believe she’s already grabbing you by the arm to be partners. 

Tara is very competitive and if she’s competing against you. She’d be ruthless with her taunts. God, she’s so annoying when she thinks she’s winning – not realizing that you were letting her win on purpose cause she’s too busy gloating.

Subway rides - where you share earbuds and show each other music that you think the other will like.

If it’s rush hour and there’s no empty seats, Tara will find a way to stand so close, she’s practically pushed up against your chest, holding onto you when the train ride gets bumpy cause the poles are too far away (still sharing earbuds).

Weekend trips to the flower market to buy some plants for Tara’s room!

You two have very different movie tastes! Not that you don’t like horror, but sometimes you just wanted to watch a Julia Roberts film.

Tara hates it.

But during movie nights, when the group inevitably breaks into an argument about what to watch, Tara always votes for your choice even if it wasn’t something she’d enjoy.

Sometimes you’d be so into the movie that you start swooning over the characters and making comments. “Julia Roberts, I’d do anything you asked me to.”

Tara immediately snaps her head to look at you, a little offended. You always miss her obvious distaste for your thirsty comments.

Cue everyone rolling their eyes, Mindy even fake gags.