#but if it bothers someone and you want it tagged lmk <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[creampuffqueen]

tagged by @appalesbian to post a random pic from my camera roll. thanks for the tag <3

99% of my camera roll is pictures of specimens from my vertebrates lab lol. anyway this is a preserved coral snake! a very neat lil dude

no pressure tags: @nova-leaf @katkastrofa @winterrhayle and anyone else who wants an excuse to post a random photo!

[thisismeracing]

hello can you pls add the f1 x reader tag to your ask answers too 🩵

Hi, love! I totally can, I'm just afraid to spam it, the 'mick schumacher' tag I switched to only "MS47" because I scrolled there and I felt like the number of stuff I posted (asks) could bother people, idk......

Do you want me to use the tag so other people can find it too, or?

[i2sunric]

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT (p.js)

pairing: ceo!jay x reader (f)

summary: when the stress caused by his high working position and the little nights of sleep start affecting jay, he can’t think of anything better than taking you in every surface of the house.

warnings: 5% plot 95% smut. missionary, rough sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), fingering, blowjob, cream pie, slight cnc (but not really), pet names (doll, pretty, baby), reader calls jay ‘daddy’, overstimulation, orgasm denial, mean!dom jay, deepthroat, aftercare. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 4.0k

published: 25th May 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle (oneshot) @yanggarden106 @sunghoonsgff @nellwoo @jjklvr9 @silkycherryred @shuawons @delusionsforleehan @melody-fav @deobitifull @gonorrheaisme @maymarrylhs @wildflowermooon @ro-diaries @nyxtwixx @crimnalseung @wolfhardbby @seongiewon @yohanabanana @minseongsworld @minjaexvz @avaleyshin @capri-cuntz @honeybunnee @hooniebaekgu @americanojake @kirinaa08 @jakedoxxenvasion @microwavedstrawberr1es @ineedsomezzz @dojaejunging @stone-odb @sjakewrld @nctislifue @seonghwaexile @ratchet-sebooty @monstaxdirtywonk @soraokkotsu @mura-r1k1xyz @genevieve-blr @shutupsisi @shiningnono @riki-riks-chick @kim2005bomi @iraa567 BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (i hope i didn’t forget anyone 💔)

a/n: ok, there was another whole sex scene but i didn’t want to overdo it so here ya go. LIKE & REBLOG TO SPREAD! & let me know your thoughts <3

Jay was beyond exhausted and he was sure that hadn’t he been that kind, he would’ve strangled someone. 

Not only did he have four meetings in the span of twelve hours but he also had a painful hard-on since lunch time that he still hadn’t dealt with.

He could’ve taken care of it in the car, but the thought of coming home and sleeping beside you was more tempting than whacking off. 

As soon as he entered the house, Jay dropped his working bag that hit the floor with a heavy thud. Unbuttoning his shirt, he walked to the kitchen and hung it on the side of the chair. 

He headed to the cupboard and took out one of his dear glasses that his father-in-law had gifted him for your wedding anniversary. He took the bottle of Whiskey beside it and poured plenty. 

Jay rested his back against the countertop and sighed heavily,

slowly sipping the drink until its content was gone. Feeling slightly better, but not as much as to forget the evident bulge making his pants feel a few sizes tighter, he left the kitchen and walked to the living room.

“Jay?” Your hoarse voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he looked at you standing in front of the sofa where you were just sleeping, waiting for him. Your hair a little messy while you rubbed your eye. You were wearing one of his old shirts, not even bothering to put a pair of pants on. 

You looked so perfect, like an angel that went to earth just to save him— and so his to ruin. 

Jay walked toward you without even caring about anything else and took your chin in his grasp, pulling you into a hungry kiss. 

You hummed in surprise, your sleepy mind still slow in processing what was happening, but soon enough you kissed him back.

He pushed you down on the couch again, making you lay as he got on top of you “Are you doing to make daddy feel better?” He asked in a husky voice. 

You knew exactly what he meant, his hips rocking against yours, rubbing the bulge on your clothed core. He was stressed, he needed something to relieve it, something to make it feel better— and you were down to help him, even if it meant giving him your body.

“Yes.” You breathed out “Want you to feel better, daddy.” 

“Good girl.” He groped your breast through the fabric of the loose t-shirt, groaning when he felt your nipples harden, no bra to stop his palm to feel them “You know what’s next, don’t you?”

You nodded and opened your legs, wider, making room for him to kneel in the middle.

Jay raised your shirt, making it rest just below your chin, your tits on full display. Now, his cock twitched in his pants, already sensitive from being neglected for so much, just the sight of you under him was enough to make it leak with precum. 

“Mine.” He murmured, one hand sneaking up to wrap around your neck. You raised your head slightly and his lips found yours in a hungry kiss.

Jay bit down on your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood but enough to make it pulse. 

His hand went down to grasp your thigh, opening it wider. You bucked your hips, your clit rubbing against his own thigh. 

Jay chuckled “So needy. Do you need me that much, baby? All worked up already?” He bent down and raised your hips, removing your panties and throwing them on the floor.

You were already so wet it was ridiculous, slick dripping down the sofa “Jay.” You breathed out. 

“Yes, baby?” He asked, raising his glance to look at you “Use your words.” 

You bucked your hip, needing something to release the bothering feeling between your legs. 

Jay tsked “Say please.” You looked into his eyes, so desperate “Please— feels so uncomfortable.” 

He smiled “I’ll fix that.” He leaned back down, pushing your thighs apart. He started pressing hot, open mouthed kisses all over your inner thighs, right above where you needed him the most. 

“So pretty.” Jay whispered and then gave one kitten lick to your clit, tasting you. You gasped, your head thrown back already. 

As he started licking, sucking on your wet folds you sneaked one hand behind his head, grasping his hair “Oh, lord.”

He pulled away, his eyes dark. "Not lord. Jay.” Then he dived again between your legs. 

Jay’s tongue darted out, tasting you. Slow, long licks, taking his savouring you.

 “Yes!” You exclaimed, bucking your hips, making his nose hit your clit. “Stay still," He ordered. "You're being a naughty girl, baby." 

“Mh— I’m sorry.” You said, looking down at him “I think I’m gonna have to punish you.” He spanked your thigh, making you whimper.

Jay grinned feral and licked agai. “I’ll stop if you keep moving, understand?”

You nodded, trying your best not to move your hips “Yes.”

“Good girl.” He murmured and then licked a long strap from your bud. 

However, as he licked a certain spot, your hips bucked up again. Jay pulled away immediately, frowning "Didn’t I say to stay still, doll? Didn’t I?"

“M’sorry.” You said “Feels so good.” Jay cooed "I know, baby." He spanked your thigh again. "But you keep moving. Don’t you wanna be good?"

Another whimper left your lips, the red mark of his finger forming on your skin “Wanna be good for daddy.” 

"Yeah? Then behave, or I'm gonna leave you like this." Jay said, his breath hot against you. "Don’t move." He threatened.

He stuck his tongue back on your clit, licking slowly. You grasped the fabric of the sofa, keeping your hips glued to it. 

Jay kept his licks slow, occasionally inserting his tongue just to pull it out right away “Look at you,” He spat on your pussy “Being so good for me.” 

You moaned out “Jay,” You said “Jay, don’t stop.”

And he didn’t, working you harder, wanting to pull moans out of you “You like this?”

You moaned when he sucked on your sensitive bud “S’good.“ Your eyes squeezed “I’m gonna—“

As you pronounced those words, his tongue detached from you, he raised himself, licking his lips.

You squirmed, a disappointed sound leaving your mouth “What's wrong, baby?” He asked, rubbing his thumb on your inner thigh.

“Was close.” You pouted while Jay just grinned “I know, doll.” 

"Then why'd you stop?” You whined. 

Jay tsked "Y/N, you don't get to talk back to me like that. Don’t you remember what I said? I was going to punish you for moving."

You nodded and closed your lips before you could anger him any further. Jay smiled slyly and moved to stand in front of your face, unzipping his pants, removing both them and his boxers.

“You know what to do, baby.” He said, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You looked so pretty, all ready just to be used by him. 

You completely laid on the sofa and turned your head to face his red tip, so hard. You gave it a small lick and kisses. 

You knew he was just letting you do that, he was the one in control anyways. 

You maintained eye contact with him as you took him in your mouth, trying to fit his whole length inside your throat. 

"Oh, baby—“ His head leaned back, his hand gripping your hair firmly. “You're so pretty like this."

However, your movements were slow and steady, not the kind of blowjob you knew Jay liked. 

He groaned and pulled you away by your hair. "Stop it.” He reprimanded, looking down at you. "You always have to push it, huh?"

Jay slapped your tit, making you whimper out “You wanna be a brat, mh? You like the feeling of my hand on you?"

You nodded, rubbing your thighs together, desperate to soothe the aching feeling between them.

Jay leaned in, tugging your bottom lip with his teeth. “Use your words, baby." You hummed “Yes daddy, like it.” 

Jay gave you one of his killer smirks before pressing his tip back on your lips, making you open up as he pushed himself back inside your warm mouth. 

He gripped your hair, using you to seek pleasure, his hips bucking back and forth. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He gave one rather big thrust, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to you gagging, but that one was stronger than the others and he was worried, so he pulled himself out, not wanting to hurt you. 

He pulled gently on your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

"You okay, doll?"

You took a deep breath and just smiled up at him, wrapping your lips back around his throbbing cock. 

Jay let out a small growl, “Such a good girl for me.” He kept his hand behind your head, bucking his hips. 

He could see spit coating your chin, falling down the floor onto his discarded clothes but he didn’t mind. Not when you looked so straight out of a porn, the squelching sounds of gagging and spit filling the room. 

“Yes,” He panted, speeding his thrusts “Just like that.” You looked up at him and gripped his hips, trying to steady yourself as he used your mouth to jerk off.

Jay’s breaths were coming out as gasps, his hand gently rubbing on your shoulder to make you lay back better. He pulled out and walked to stand behind your head. 

Your head was barely on the sofa “Open up.” He said, his body hovering on yours for a deepthroat. 

You opened your mouth and soon felt his whole length down your throat, you tried your best not to gag, tears threatening to roll down your  cheeks. 

Jay groaned, twitching inside your mouth. His fingers went to pinch your nipples as he began to move again, slower that time. 

Your eyes rolled back, gagging and breathing through your nose, his balls gently tapping against your nose every time he thrusted. 

Jay put one hand on your throat, feeling his cock moving underneath the skin. He twitched inside you, already so close. 

He slapped your tits one more time, watching as his fingers’ marks appeared on your chest. 

The humming sound you let out sent vibrations through his whole body, making him cum right there. 

His warm seed slowly dripped down your throat, the bittersweet taste making you moan around it. 

Jay pulled out as you took a few deep breaths, looking up at him through glossy eyes and spit coated face. 

He leaned down, his thumb wiping the corner of your lips. "So pretty like that." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your lips

You gave him a sloppy kiss “I need to clean you up.” He stated, raising himself and walking into the kitchen.

You waited there, laid on the sofa, but the aching feeling between your legs still hadn’t gone— if not, it was stronger than before. 

You pushed yourself up and followed him shortly, hugging his back as you saw him taking a cloth from the drawer. 

Jay smiled warmly and turned around to hug your waist, placing a small kiss on your head “You good?” He asked gently.

You just looked up at him and took one of his hands that rested on your waist to guide it down until it reached your heat. 

He raised a brow, his fingers slowly circling your clit “What do you want, doll?” His tone was low again. 

“Want to cum too.” You rested your head on his chest, your breath growing heavier. 

Jay started rubbing a tiny bit harder, his free hand running through your hair. "You need it, baby?"

You nodded, your hand grasping his forearm to steady yourself and not jerk away as he rubbed your sensitive bud. His hand, instead, went to raise your chin, making you look up “Want me to help you?”

“Please Jay,” You pleaded, your eyes glossy “Be a good girl this time.” 

You bit down your bottom lip, humming “Yeah? Gonna behave for daddy?” His hand sped up, his thumb applying pressure over that sensitive spot.

You bucked your hips in response, feeling the knot tightening inside your stomach “Shh, baby. Take what I give you.” 

Jay’s eyes were focused on you, watching your every reaction. his other hand moved to cradle the back of your head, keeping you focused on him. 

As his fingers kept working on your sensitive bud, your mouth fell agape "Keep your eyes on me, baby," He whispered. "Look at me, not away from me." He said, starting to speed up.

You fought to keep your eyes open not to anger him and make him deny you another orgasm as pretty moans fell from your lips like music to his ears. 

Your hand went to grasp his muscled forearm, your whole body trembling as the knot in your stomach snapped, making you fall apart.

Jay’s fingers slowed down when you trembled, bringing you back to reality. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you were still trembling. "There you go, I’ve got you. He whispered against your hair “Did so well for me”. 

As you slowly came down of your high, you looked up at him with glossy eyes, your euphoria still lingering, sending small shivers through your body. 

Something primal awoke inside his gaze “Lord.” He groaned, pulling you into a heated kiss.

His hands ran down your spine, resting on the small of your back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tiptoed to reach his height. 

Jay’s hands ran up your back, his mouth finding your neck. He started nibbling. "Mine," he mumbled. "So mine." His hands left your back to grab your thighs, lifting you up.

Jay turned you around and placed you on the countertop; He was devouring you, his teeth grazing your skin as he sucked and bit on your neck.  

You could feel him harden against your inner thigh as his hands travelled down your chest to squeeze your tits, twirling and pinching your nipples.

You moaned when he claimed your mouth again, your own hand moving to pump his shaft “Fuck.” He groaned, bucking his hips forward. 

“You look so good on my counter.” He said, his breath coming out into puffs. His hips kept rocking forwards, fucking your fist. 

“Want to make you feel better, daddy.” You murmured against his lips, your voice so innocent and weak made his cock twitch. 

Jay’s fingers curled around your chin, holding you still “Want to make daddy feel better? Want to be a good girl—Shit.” He groaned “For me?”

“Yes, daddy.” You breathed out, the mushroom tip teasing your entrance “Please, I’ll make you feel good.” 

Jay hummed, removing your hand from his cock to kiss you deeply again “I know baby,” His lips brushed your bottom lip “You always do, mh?” He fisted your hair, “Daddy’s good girl.” 

Jay patted your thigh and you complied with his wishes, wrapping your legs around his waist. He lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and hurried upstairs, not wanting to waste more time. 

He kicked the door of your bedroom open while your lips were still attached and gently laid you on the bed. He pulled away to stare at your figure, so pretty just for him. 

He crawled on top of you and trailed kisses all over your naked body, not leaving even one spot untouched by his lips “So gorgeous.” 

His lips trailed down your collarbone to your chest, licking your sensitive nipples and then down your stomach until he was about to reach your clit— His phone ringtone started ringing all around the house from downstairs, the quiet of the night not leaving any doubt. 

Jay groaned, resting his head on your hip. He was a very composed person and set a different ringtone for all of his contacts so that he knew who was calling. It couldn’t be ignored since that classical music belonged to one of his most important foreign partners.

"Do not move." He warned, getting out of bed and disappearing into the hallway.

You waited for him, laying on the bed. You took the time to relax a little from your previous orgasm, staring at the ceiling. 

Jay came back around ten minutes later, his whole aura darker than the one he had when he first stepped in the house.

His brows were knitted and he closed the door, dangerously slow. He crawled on the bed and spread your legs open. 

You watched him through puzzled eyes but Jay didn’t even spare you a glance as he aligned himself to your entrance and thrust himself inside without even a warning. 

A pained whimper left your mouth, your eyes squeezing and body growing rigid. You weren’t exactly as wet as you were ten minutes before and his cock wasn’t exactly small, so the stretch was painful. 

“Y/N.” He whispered against your skin, not moving as you clenched around him. His breath was hot on your skin, his fingers running up the side of your waist in a soothing way "Needed this.” 

Jay started moving, slowly, he sighed and pulled away so he could look down at you “Relax baby, you need to relax.” 

Your walls kept clenching and sucking him in, the pain spread all over your lower region, making you choke out a gasp. 

He groaned when he heard you gasp, but he was too focused on his own relief to pull away. "So good, baby." He panted.

Jay’s hands moved up your sides, trailing feather light across your skin “Sorry, just—“ His eyes squeezed shut “Just take it.”

He kept pounding inside of you, rubbing slow circles on your clit to help you relax. When the pain subdued to the pleasure, you let out a moan.

“That’s it, doll.” He groaned “So good.”

“Jay,” You breathed out, your hands going to scratch his back, your hips moving with the same rhythm as his, making you two a single person.

He twitched inside of you “Christ, Y/N— Say that again.” You rolled your eyes back as he hit a certain spot “Jay!” 

"That's my girl," He said huskily, “Yeah, baby." His hands gripped your hips and pressed him close to you “Need to be closer."

Your breath was coming out in pants “Feels so deep.” You murmured and Jay placed one hand behind your head, grasping your hair and lifting your head. 

Jay made you watch himself go in and out, his shaft disappearing just to reappear, making you moan “See?” You reached out your tummy and pressed where you could see the shadow of his bulge, the moan that escaped his lips made you clench around him. 

“My perfect girl.” Jay cooed and then let go of your hand, making it fall on the pillow. He gripped both of your hips and quickened his pace, rutting inside of you at an animalistic speed. 

His chest pressing into yours. "Take my fucking cock." he groaned, his hips moving faster “Good?"

You just nodded, “Fuck— Mh, daddy.” He slapped your pussy, sending shivers all around your body “No cursing.” He nagged, making you whimper “Sorry.” 

“S’okay.” He reassured, slapping another time your pussy just to see you quiver underneath him “Close?” 

You nodded again “S’close— Don’t stop.” You pleaded, your own hand moving down to circle your clit. 

It didn’t take much for you to cream his cock, your walls clenching so hard around him as your body shuddered.

"Yeah," He told you, his fingers digging in your hips, keeping you pinned down. "There you go," He mumbled.

However, Jay’s thrusts never faltered, if not he moved faster, chasing his own release. He looked down to see the white circle of cum around his cock, his head thrown back in pleasure.

Your whole body shook in overstimulation, “Jay,” You panted, trying to push his chest away “T-too much.” 

His hands stayed pressed into your hips, holding them down into the mattress. "Shh, baby," he groaned. "You can take it, I know you can.” 

You shook your head, your toes curling as a broken whimper left your mouth “Just a little more.” 

Jay pressed a small kiss on your earlobe, whispering “So good, you feel so good.” Your mind was hazy, your eyes closed with the amount of pleasure you were receiving. 

But Jay still didn’t fall apart, his release was close but he was doing his best to hold back. 

Your legs were tired so you wrapped them around his waist, your nails digging in his back, making you moan out “Ngh— J-Jay.. I can’t.” Tears pooled your eyes, threatening to fall out. You felt another knot tighten in your lower belly, your mouth falling agape. 

Jay noticed your body language and smirked, his thrusts so fast and rough the headboard slammed against the wall, along with the sound of skin slapping and the wet noises from your pussy. 

Your back arched from the mattress, your body shuddering as you reached your third orgasm of the night. 

At the same time, Jay’s mouth formed an ‘O’, his own seed filling you up. His thrusts slowed, pumping you full of his cum, not even letting a single drop fall out. 

You were a moaning mess, shivers rocking through your body “Shh,” Jay cooed, running his thumb on your sweaty cheek “I’ve got you.” 

He held you close to himself, waiting for you to come down of your high. He gently kissed your lips, breathing each other. Your bodies mended, melting together just like your souls. 

You then pulled away, looking at him with glossy and teary eyes, your cheeks flushed and hair sticking to your neck from

the sweat. 

Jay smiled softly, “My love.” He murmured, pressing a featherlight kiss on your brow “My girl.” 

You smiled back at him, “Better now?” You asked, your voice hoarse. 

He chuckled and raised himself from your body, reluctantly peeling his skin away from you “You always make me feel better.” 

After a warm shower, filled with massages and small making out sessions, both you and Jay were laying on the bed, the light rays of light belonging to the early morning hours entered from the curtains. 

You rested your head on his chest as his fingers slowly trailed up and down your back. 

“I really don’t want to go to work.” He murmured, his nose filling with the smell of your shampoo “Don’t go.” You said back, “Stay with me.”

Jay shook his head “I can’t.” He placed a small kiss on your head. 

“Why not?” You frowned “Just one day.” He pulled you closer, hugging your arm. “I have an important meeting today.”

You sighed “You always do.” Jay chuckled at your words “You want to know why I’m enduring so many working hours?” 

You nodded, looking up at him “Why? Money, it doesn’t miss in your life.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He smiled “But I never know how the company will go in the future, it may fail or go bankrupt and I want to save enough money to let our children have a good life.” 

You widened your eyes, raising your head from his chest “You said our children.” 

Jay pecked your lips “I did.” You blinked faintly, “You want to have a family with me?” 

He took your face in his hands, gently rubbing his fingers on your cheeks “First, I want to marry you.” He placed one kiss on your forehead “Then, I want to have a baby with you, or maybe two.” He kissed your nose, “And at last I want to grow old and grey with you.”  He kissed your lips deeply.

“I want a life with you, Y/N. You’re the only one that can make me feel alive.” And it was then, the moment you swore to never leave Jay’s side, no matter the complications that occurred.

[redwinelew]

you're my best friend | lewis hamilton [1/3]

social media au. black + actress!reader

summary — you and lewis have been the best of friends for years but the world thinks there might be something more. until.... (read part two here)

face claim — taylor russell

song — you are in love by taylor swift (taylor's version)

warnings — fluff (for now, more angst in the future lol), inconsistent timeline, lmk what else i missed

author's note — as always pls ignore the dates, time, likes, rts etc i really can't be bothered to change them 😭😭

all pictures taken from pinterest. credit to owners.

instagram!

liked by hoooooyeony, ayoedebiri and 2,473,928 others

tagged ynln

lewishamilton happy birthday to the girl who always puts the biggest smile on my face. i love you sweetheart.

view all 4,847 comments

user1 the caption is so fucking insane lmfao

user2 show this post to someone who doesn't know who they are and i bet that person will most definitely that they're dating

user3 user2 ???? are friends not allowed to wish each other happy birthday now or did i miss something

user2 user3 not with that kind of caption no you don't lmfao

francolapinto happy birthday ynln !

ynln francolapinto thank you franco!! ❤️❤️

user4 they're just friends yall they've been friends for years pls

user2 user4 uh huh yeah sure jane

user5 user2 maybe don't speculate about real people's personal life??

user2 user5 can't i'm too nosy

user5 user2 ok yk what what's kinda valid

user6 thank god they're just friends actually cause otherwise the age gap would be insane

user7 user6 1) none of your business if they're dating or not 2) she's a grown 30 year old woman???? istg why can't yall just let ppl be happy

chappellroan happy birthday baddie

ynln chappellroan *totally not freaking out that my fave singer just wished my happy birthday* thank u queen!!

user8 ynln bestie that is SO real of u

ynln you're extra sappy today

lewishamilton ynln it's your birthday of course i'm sappy. i'm always sappy for you.

ynln lewishamilton loser

lewishamilton ynln just for you

user9 ynln lewishamilton i'm gonna jump off a cliff

twitter!

instagram!

liked by mercedesamgf1, tomholland1996 and 5,387,282 others

tagged lewishamilton and mercedesamgf1

ynln i was lucky to have been there during your glory days, but i think i was even luckier to get to support you through one of the most difficult moments in your career and maybe even your life back in 2021 because i know that those dark days would not last forever. i hope you know that you deserve every bit of this win, my darling angel. i love you so much lewishamilton.

view all 7,383 comments

user1 i feel so normal about this caption

user2 what kind of friends call each other sweetheart and my darling angel

user3 user2 ikr like atp they're def oblivious

user4 user3 or maybe they're just scared to confess bcs they don't want to ruin their friendship

user5 user2 there's no way that they're dating like have u guys seen his dating history? he likes older women (nicole, shakira). yn is only 30. maybe they really are just friends

user6 user5 yeah now that u mention her age...... kinda weird to ship them idk

user7 user6 girl she's a grown ass adult woman tf are u on about 😭😭

zendaya send my congrats to him ❤️❤️

ynln zendaya i will!!

messages!

twitter!

messages!

— thank you for reading! part 2 is coming soon <33 as always reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated!!

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Could I ask for a Logan x afab!reader? Readers mutation is strength, but like, it’s too strong for their body. Punch something? Boom. Hand skin GONE

SFW or nsfw is cool

A/N: Request are open for Bucky and Logan! If you enjoy my work please like, reblog, and comment it helps me stay motivated to keep posting on here. My classes are starting to get busier so I might start posting less but I am still planning on posting a few times a week so lmk if you'd like to be tagged <3

Logan liked the idea of having a girl who could handle herself. He liked knowing she didn't need him watching over her 24/7. When he met you, he thought he found the one, someone who could keep up with him physically and could stand her ground while still looking drop dead.

And he did find the one with you but there was just one flaw that he didn't approve of, that he couldn't just overlook. No, it wasn't something stupid like stretch marks or height or body weight. It was the fact that you were so unbothered by shit that should fucking bother you. So, instead of being worried about if some random fucker was trying to take advantage of you, he had to worry about you taking advantage of your mutation.

He didn't notice it right away, when you first got together, he was kind of a shitty partner. He wasn't proud of it, but he could admit it. He met you at the mansion, he knew of your strength and your pain tolerance, and he doesn't really know what happened. Maybe since he didn't feel like he needed to babysit you like he did with his ex-lovers he wasn't too concerned over how you were doing at first. He just knew you could handle yourself.

And you always did.

Your mutation was similar to his, you didn't have the claws, but you did have the metal, and you didn't heal as quickly as he did, but you did heal faster than a normal human and you hardly felt any pain.

The two of you being together just made sense, you completed one another in many ways that surprised Logan. Because of this you were together often, and Logan was quick to start noticing things about your mutations that he didn't notice before.

It was little things to you but to him it was a huge deal. He noticed that when you used your strength part of your skin would just vanish. Like the other night, you were getting ready for a mission and wanted to train more to be properly prepared. He had found you in the training room punching one of the punching bags and he watched for a few minutes to take in your form and make sure you were throwing the punches correctly. He was always in awe when he watched you either train or watched you during a mission and he started to slip into that awe state when he noticed your knuckle bleeding heavily.

"Darlin?" He asked, trying to hide his panic. You turned and smiled brightly at him completely unfazed by the blood. "How long have you been here? I would've stopped sooner if I had known you were here so we could get ready for bed silly" You giggled and went to kiss his cheek before skipping off to your shared room.

He looked at the door in complete shock and confusion. What the fuck was that? He muttered to himself before following you to try and get answers. He caught you before you could get into the shower. "Darlin, I think we need to talk." He grabbed your hand to see your knuckles completely skinless and bloody. "What is this? I know you don't feel much pain, but you had to have seen this. You should've stopped before it got to this. I mean fuck, how long is it going to take for this to heal for you?" He talked in a frantic tone as his mind started to race, how long has this happened? How long would they need to heal, what if they get infected? Was this a mutation thing? Has there been bigger wounds that he just didn't catch? Why the hell didn't you tell him about this!?

"Logan it's fine" you said with a shrug. "It just happens. Charles says I'm too strong for my skin cells so when I throw a punch or kick something the cells tend to rupture so he suspects that losing skin is going to be common, it'll be healed in an hour or two. Nothing serious I promise." You calmly explained to try and soothe his anxieties, but it seemed to just make it worse. He looked at you as if you just grew another head. "How are you this calm?! I see your adamantium bones right now!" He could feel himself growing more panicked, his heart was racing faster, and it felt like he couldn't breathe.

You knew that he was thinking himself into a panic attack, it was something he tend to do. You walked away for a moment and came back with your knuckles completely wrapped in gaze. "Lo, look at me honey." You cooed at him while you cupped his face to make him look at you. With his teary expression your heart sank knowing you were the cause of the panic. "I'm okay, you're okay, we are okay. Listen to my heart can you do that for me?" You felt his jaw clench before he nodded and focused on your chest. Hearing your heart beating steadily calmed him more than anything else would've in that moment.

"You're okay." He whispered, looking up at you for confirmation. You nodded with a lopsided smile. He nodded back at you, "This is just your mutation?" He asked shaking his head in disbelief and was met with you nodding as you shrugged. "Doesn't every mutation come with something stupid like this. I'll always heal eventually; I'll be okay Lo" You promised and sealed that promise with a kiss pressed to his forehead.

That night he kept you closer than usual. He doesn't know how he never noticed sooner and he's positive he'll never be okay with how unbothered you are by it but at least he knows you will be okay. He knew you could handle it. You always did.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

@chaimshelii

@aoi-targaryen

@eyes-ofhell

[yuyu1024]

Fate

Pairings: Yoongi × y/n

Genre/tags: Arranged marriage

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 mention of blood/violence/drugs/trafficing, trauma, mention of killing, kidnapping, gun, mention of food/eating/weight, cursing, sensual touching, making out smoking, smut (but not this chapter)

~~~~[lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 5.2k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

Note:

Until you (mini series)

Part 1 - Prisoner

Part 2 - Escape

Part 3 - Twilight

Part 4 - Fate

A/N: again... im really sorry for being a slow writer/update for this mini series🙏🏻 i can't help it. 😭 I do get msgs asking for updates & i feel bad... so sorry 🥹 I try my best to have time to get into the story/characters whenever i have free time. I work full time and have a 2nd job too so it takes all my energy. I'm really... really sorry.😭

But yeaah, thank you for everyone liking my yoongi fanfic. 🖤🫶🏻 thank you for the patience😭

I hope this chapter is okay ♥️

****

(Prologue/Flashback)

"Sshh..." she covers your mouth for you to stay quiet and not make any noise. She reminds you constantly to keep it together or else they will find you. "Just a little bit more, Yoongi." She whispers. "Calm down..."

You try your best to do what she says because you want you guys to survive this. To escape. However you are a kid and you are terrified. And you can't stop yourself from shaking like a twig. Also you are rapidly breathing through your nose. Tears even start to fill your eyes as you look into her eyes.

"You'll be fine..." she says to you. "Noona, will protect you."

"I'm scared..." You whisper grabbing onto her long braided hair.

You two are a few inches apart. If she could only embrace you, she will. However there are metal bars between you two and she is.... injured.

"Me too." She wants to cry to as she must be as scared as you or maybe, more. But since she's the eldest between the two of you she have to be brave for you. "Just go to sleep... I promise... the moment you wake up...when the sun is shining after the storm tonight... we'll be safe... we'll already be at home..."

"P-promise?"

She tries her best to not break down because she knows that she's promising something that's very unrealistic in your situation right now. Both of you are held captives, kidnapped and waiting to be saved.

"I promise." She sniffs "Just hold onto this for now..." she meant her hair and then reaches her hand to you slowly even it's causing too much pain for her. "Go to sleep... Noona will be right here..." the tip of her fingers barely touched your cheek. "I will protect you..." she adds

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

[Present]

The silence between you two is very deafening. Even the staffs at the mansion notices how both of you are very distant to each other.

Odd right? They should be used to this situation since Yoongi is the silent type or the one who does not talk that much especially to you.

However for you, maybe this is out of character as every one is not used to you being like this. Well THIS silent anyway.

You usually talk and greet them or make small talks with them or Yoongi even if it's just a random question to make him just...talk. You do anything to make him speak to you. You make small efforts to chase his attention just to get him look back at you per say. Like a dog.

But now, since he made sure to leave you the moment you got vulnerable with him during sex and mentioned a feeling you have, which in the first place you had no idea you have, really hurt you this time. Big time. It is a rejection that you never thought would bother you this much.

"You two are awfully quiet." Mrs. Min says as soon as she puts down her cup of coffee on the table. "You two are both quiet originally... I know... but..." she looks at you and Yoongi back and forth twice. "Did you guys had a fight?"

No one answers.

"Guessing...silence means yes?" Mrs. Min looks at us again, hoping someone will speak up. "What did you do?" She asks Yoongi.

But he didn't open his mouth to speak. He just continued on chewing on his breakfast while his eyes are glued to you.

He has been eyeing you since the two of you left the mansion. He have been silently watching you move along, react and walk from your back. You don't notice it as you are trying to achieve to ignore him completely today. And so far, you are a gold medalist at it. You don't even bat an eye on him.

"Fine... not gonna ask anymore questions..." Mrs. Min gives up. "Anyways, after this lunch... I'll have a meeting with Hannah."

Yoongi flinches, finally reacting and gets interested to whatever his mother is saying. "What for?"

"About the private resort project that she is building... she wants my opinion about what brands to use for the decorations. She have a final lists of candidates of brands and she wants to know my say to it."

"Really...."

"Yes... and as soon as it opens... she says you two can go there... and celebrate... as her gift. Since she missed going to your wedding."

"Celebrate?" You finally spoke after how many years. Even Yoongi whip his head to look at you.

"Yes dear," Mrs. Min smiles so brightly and holds your hand. "You're 2nd anniversary... next month... right?"

"Ah, yes... right." You try to smile it away. But deep inside, you are not looking forward to it.

Why would you? Last year Yoongi didn't even greeted you Happy Anniversary. He probably didn't care back then so why would he care now and celebrate this year? This marriage is nothing to him.

"Is she coming here?" Yoongi asks his mother, changing back the subject to Hannah

"No... I am meeting her at her office."

You are holding on for dear life on your gold medal for 'Ignoring my husband award'. You are so curious to look at him. To see his beautiful face, how he reacts when they talk about her. Hannah. The girl you saw more than a year ago. The girl you saw on the driveway, talking to your husband while she hooked her arms on his'. The girl that Yoongi seems interested about. The girl he seems to.... like.

"How about you guys? What are your plans today after our brunch?" Mrs. Min asks

"Hmm.." he sighs heavily and then takes his phone from the table. "Probably fuck my wife " Yoongi answers nonchalantly making you and Mrs. Min almost choke on nothing. That sentence made you even look at him with wide eyes and red cheeks.

"Omo..." Mrs. Min is too stunned to even comprehend what she just heard. "Well... okay... too much information but..." she then takes a sip of her coffee. "You do you."

"I'm sorry..." you apologize to your mother-in-law.

You are embarassed. This topic should be a private matter. Everyone in the mansion already seem to have the idea what you two do on a regular basis but you do hope that outside, no one has to know.

It's not that you are embarassed of having a sex life. It's normal. Yes. But to have to talk about it to his parents, oh dear god, no.

"Why are you apologizing?" Yoongi's face looks so damn serious. "We are husband and wife right?"

You scowl at Him. You don't like how he acts or portrays like sex is just a hobby for him and it's nothing to be embarassed about. Especially in front of his mother while you are present. He really does not treat you like you have any feelings. He is evil.

"Okay... children...children... don't fight about this... it's okay. You already have issues before we got here so... it's fine." Mrs. Min tries to sooth the situation up.

She's so nice to try. Though she does not know the real reason why there is a huge distance between you two today. It's not that simple. You don't even know if she knows how his son treats you.

***

"Sir." Mr. Kim bows as both Yoongi and you arrives at the driveway, about to leave Mrs. Min's property.

"Get in." He orders you

You glare at him then roll your eyes away. You are in no mood now. You have scowled at him earlier already so why not do it more now that he is irritating you.

"Hold on..." he suddenly grabs you by the arm, stopping you from getting in the car. "Did you just fucking roll your eyes at me?" He scoffs

You try your best to pull your arms from his grip but he is stronger than you. "Let me go." You grunt

"What are you doing?" He asks, "You've been.... acting up lately..."

"I don't know...what you're talking about..." you finally freed yourself from his grip.

"Don't act innocent on me... I know you."

"Know me?" You snap. "How? We barely talked these past two years... You only look for me when you want something done and someone to fuck...besides that, I am nothing to you. So how the fuck will you know me?"

Finally! You've said something. However you can't lie to yourself how terrified you are right now. Your legs are shaking. You have never risen your voice like this before. Not with him. Plus Yoongi is so freaking silent. There was no reaction from him not like Mr. Kim who just coughed because of the sudden tension.

Is he in shock? He must be surprised to hear you speak out after all this time. He had never heard you talk like this before. You can't even read his expression. He is just looking down at you, straight on.

"Ahm... Sir... Miss... I'll leave you two... alone." Mr. Kim finally broke the awkward silence. "Just message me if... we're going home."

You glance at him and bow. Also giving an apologetic look since the situation got a bit serious.

And as soon as Mr. Kim is gone from our sight, Yoongi takes a step forward closer to you, making you back up and your behind bumping on the car. "Is that... what you think?"

You glare up at him. "Yes."

"You think... I don't know you?"

"Yes."

He chuckles. "I know you more than you know..."

You frown. "You only see me when you are horny... you don't even talk to me unless to I ask you... unless you tell me what to do and what not to do... so, how would you know anything about me...?"

He scrunches his face. He looks irritated "I see you more than you think." He mumbles. And then he took a step back and looks at you and watch you tremble,"Do you regret it?" He asks

"W-what? Regret what?"

"The sex... do you regret it?"

"W-what? What do you mean...?"

He then puts both his hands on the car, trapping you between. "Just answer the question... do you hate and regret the sex?"

You look away. "No...."

"Do you want us to stop fucking?"

You sigh heavily. "Why are you focusing on the sex?!?" Your brows are furrowed. You are really showing your frustration. "It's not about the sex, Yoongi! There is nothing wrong with the sex... what I just want is... I just..." you look back at his face and you see an empty expression from him. Does he not get what you are saying or is he ignoring the other parts of what you told him. That the only thing he thinks about is your sex life. "Never mind..." you lower your gaze. "It's not like my opinion matter..."

"Y/N..." Yoongi begins. You look back st him waiting for whatever he's about to say. You think he was about to response to you or maybe say what is on his mind as well. (Maybe.) However, both of you got suddenly distracted by the honk of a black sedan car entering the property.

You have seen that car before. It is familiar. And then when it stops and someone steps out of the car...

"Yoongi?" The woman that came out of the passenger seat, is Hannah. "What are you doing here?"

She is smiling ear to ear. Her smile is as bright as her tear drop pear earrings that is perfectly shown under her tucked bob hair. She's... so pretty.

"Oh... Hi..." she waves at you when she finally notices you

"Hi." You try to smile as brightly as you can.

"You must be Yoongi's beautiful wife." She is sweet. She looks like a friendly and easy going person. "I'm Hannah by the way... I'm Yoongi's friend since we're... toddlers..."

"Nice to meet you." You bow

"What are you doing here? Mother said..."

"Ah... yes... we we're supposed to meet at my office but I just came from another meeting and since we will pass by the house I decided to just meet her now..." she explains

"She must be in her room now.. preparing to meet you."

"Oh. I see... well, I guess I'll just surprise her." She grins. "Are you guys leaving?"

"Yeah... we just had brunch with her..."

Fuck. What is going on?

Just a second ago, you're having a serious confrontation with your husband. You guys are about to talk about the situation between you two. Yes, it may not be the ideal 'talk' but it is a start. But then, here you are. Hannah arrived and stole his full attention. Literally, she have all his eyes and ears. You suddenly became a shadow.

Then you are also hearing Yoongi converse. You are hearing how is he when he's not alone with you. You are hearing a side of him that you are not familiar with. 'Fuck Y/N, stop it.' You say yourself

Maybe, you just need to stop. Just stop complaining about his attention and him not liking you. Maybe he is not the problem. Maybe.. it's you? They forced him to marry and got stucked with you. YOU are the problem. You are NOT the person he wanted to marry. You just got selected just because.

You are the problem. As always. Like what everybody says to you.

"I'll just email you my thoughts after..." Hannah says

"Why not discuss it now?" Yoongi suggests

"Hmm...but you're about to leave..." she glances at you

"It's okay." Yoongi then pulls out his phone and messages someone. "I asked Mr. Kim to come... wait for him... I'll be quick." He says to you

You look at him for a second before you turn your back on him. "Sure." You sound lifeless. You sounded like you've given up already.

"Y-yoongi... you're going to make her wait?" She whispers to him but you care definitely hear it

"Let's make it quick. I don't want to work over the weekend."

He's more worried of working on the weekend but not making you stay and wait all alone.

They start to walk away. You could see their reflection through the windows of the car.

They left you alone.

He left you alone.

Then as you are standing there, waiting for Mr. Kim to come back, you slightly bend over your torso, holding onto the yourself as soon as you felt a little uncomfortable feeling on your lower abdomen. It's not painful but it is a bit of discomfort.

"Fuck..." you hiss under your breathe.

You should be careful now. Atleast until it's fully confirmed. Yes, you are pregnant. Well, that's what the PT told you a few days ago.

You took the test, in your bathroom, scared and shaking like a twig. You have never felt this terrified in your life. Ever. And the freaking 3mins of waiting felt like forever whilst you are in there, sitting on the floor.

But yeah, after the torture of waiting, the test did show two lines. It was a faint but it is positive. And during that moment, your world suddenly stopped spinning. You had to gather your thoughts and emotion within the span of 30mins that you have. (Because your maid will enter your bathroom to help you get ready after 30mins). That was one other toture you had to endure. And to add more spice on this never ending problem is that you were all ALONE. You had no one to hold hands or hug for moral support.

You are, all by yourself.

After testing, you did processed the result in your mind and managed to get back right to reality and decide by yourself to be... okay. To take it as another good day. Because this is not something bad. It is a miracle. It's a life.

Though, you can't lie. It was a whirlwind of emotion. And you don't know what to feel yet about it. You are not even sure if you are able to share it with anyone, even Yoongi since you still need to see a doctor to really confirm it.

Confirmation.

You fucking need that final 'yes you are pregnant'. Because your further decisions in life will revovle around that one thing. Decisions that might affect this marriage and basically affect your whole life. So, you really have to find a way to get a doctor's appointment in secret. For now...

"Miss?" Mr. Kim arrives and sees you slouching, "Is everything alright?"

You turn around, stands up straight and smile. "Yes..."

"Are you hurt?" He asks

"I'm fine... but I just think... my stomach feels heavy a bit from eating... I did ate quite a bit." You lie.

"Okay, let me bring you home quick so you could rest." He says

"Thank you."

****

[Yoongi's side]

Yoongi can't sleep. He got home earlier just an hour after Y/N got home. He asked the maids to call her, to have dinner with him, but unfortunately Y/N was already fast asleep.

He waited for her to wake up from what he thinks is just a quick nap. But whenever he asks the maid if she's up, they just shake their head and say sorry.

They fought. He thinks. It felt like they fought. It's his first time hearing her talk to him like that. She have been always timid and her patience with him is very long. However, she finally have had it.

How can you make your wife, who is clearly showing you that she's falling in love with you, start to hate you?

Well, Yoongi knows what he did and is doing to her. He is very controlling, cold and distant. And these are the traits that can't be part of your life especially of you are married. However, this is how he is. As a child no, but ever since the incident happen fifteen years ago, the trauma and the life he had to put through made him, This.

Outsiders might call him as the devil or the punisher of the Min Family because of all the work he is doing inside the office and outside. He is a fighter and his hands are always covered with blood. Though what he's doing is not a crime. The Min's business is not illegal. They control everything that they can do end everything that is illegal in the most legal way possible. If that makes sense.

They were just a business before. A typical rich family. But yeah, since what had happened to them years ago, they changed their rules and how they do it now.

And that's why Yoongi have this cold exterior. He needs to show to everyone who's watching him that he can't falter. That no one could try to even break him like how those monsters break his father. How those monster took them and made them hostages.

10 million. That's all it takes, for some uneducated humans do the most horrendous thing in this world. To hurt and kill an innocent child. A 16yrs old girl and a 14yr old boy.

Their parents were willing to give the money and even more, just for them to surrender their children. However, the fear in them when they know that the children saw their faces, made them decide to end it all.

Yuna, his older sister, sacrificed her life to save Yoongi. She is one brave young lady. She managed to push his brother just in time to fall on the edge, to roll down small hill and get away through the woods. She got shot and died on the spot. Yoongi saw everything but didn't had the time to grieve then and there because he had to survive yet. To run.

It took two more days before he was found. How he survived? No one knows. But since that day, the happy and cheerful little boy grew up and became the cold Yoongi everyone knows now.

He knows that what he have been through is not an excuse to treat his wife so coldy like this. She was only forced the marry him. She didn't even know him. Which is his fault as well because he didn't allow her to enter his bubble. Up to now...

However, through all the times that he have been with her little by little, as per his therapist's words, 'You are slowly breaking.' She said.

She said that before, whenever she asks him about his wife. He is usually nonchalant or indifferent. Like he's just talking about someone he randomly met. But then one day, the therapists said, she saw a glimpse of change in his eyes the moment she asks about his wife. His expression is the same but his eyes started to shift like he's thinking about it more before he speaks.

'You care. You just don't know how to show it' she said to him.

At first, When Yoongi heard that from his therapist, he got worried. Not because He is starting to have this feeling for his wife. No. His wife is never and will never be a bad thing that happened to his life. He is worried because, what if he breaks his cold exterious and somewhere out there in the world takes advantage of it and what happened years ago will happen again?

That is his only concern. That is why, he added more men. That's why Y/N can't leavr a house alone. That's why he always tracks her phone wherever she is. That's why he can't sleep without know if she is fine or not.

If only... he never had these issues, these traumas from the past, maybe... it's easier.

"Please... don't quit on me..." he says out loud as he closes his eyes, imagining the smiling face of his wife. "Don't... leave me..." he mutters

****

After what it seems like a very, very long day for you you're finally home. You are so tired that the first thing you did after getting changed is sleep. It feels like this is the longest you've slept in like forever.

You keep turning and waking up every now and then but your body kept forcing you to not wake up. It's like its telling you that you needed this. After all of the worrying you have been having these past few days. This sleep is for you.

But then maybe after hour five of sleeping, you felt something cold touch your skin. It didn't sting. It oddly felt good.

Slowly opening your eyes, you see a blurred figure in front of you. He's so close that you could actually smell his scent. The smell of baby powder.

"Yoongi?" You ask softly as your eyes slowly adjusted to the little light of your lamp shade. But no one answered back. You then rub your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more. Just to be surez you saw what you saw.

No one. There's no one there.

"Did I... just dream about him?" You ask, looking at the ceiling. "But I swear..." you trail off. "How funny... even in my dream... I see him..."

But you swear you smelled his scent. Your imagination of him is getting stronger. Your memory of him is getting move vivid. Even the smell now. That's how longing you are of him.

You miss him. Even though he is there  you miss him. Oddly, you miss the time that both of you are just sitting down together in his home office and just reading. You miss casually asking him questions. You miss hearing him talk even though he's talking about his work and not to you. You miss him even though you just saw him earlier. Even though... he hurt you.

His scent. The scent you really, really like. His smell whenever you two have sex. It's not strong but it's there. Whenever you close your eyes and drift away from the high, you know you are okay as long as you could smell and hear him.

Fuck. Is this how being in love is?

Just thinking about him makes you want to cry. You are frustrated at him but at the same time frustrated to yourself as well. Why is communicating is so hard? You know that's the issue. Both of you are not good with talking nor expressing yourselves. Well, that's what Taehyun told you earlier.

Yeah, you went on a side trip earlier before going home, to meet your friend at his work. You needed someone to talk to and you know Taehyung is always there ready to listen to you.

You poured your heart out earlier, crying and all. You were sorry for disturbing him at work but you needed that cry and that hug. You had to told him your feelings about Yoongi. You have to say it out loud for you to truely understand the situation and yourself.

You needed someone's opinion to point out the obvious so it could stick in to your brain.

Growing up to a family where your opinion does not matter took a toll on you as well. Especially to an adoptive family. A family that only needed you for money.

To them, you always feel left out and does not deserve a voice. They always tell you that they only gave you a roof above your head and food to eat because you are what they needed. A piggy bank.

Your parents died in an accident years ago, when you are just 12yrs old. There was a police chase in the highway that rainy day. Every one is on high alert and giving way. But well, the criminals weren't exactly running away and trying to avoid cars. They hit quite a few vehicles during the chase and one of them was your parent's. The crash caused an explosion, killing them in an instant.

And like any drama stories on TV, yout aunt took you in because of your parent's insurance. They are not big but it is a decent amount. However, they could not actually touch it since it is saved for your education that's why the first month of you staying with them was torture. They beat you, make you work and starve you from time to time because they said, 'you don't deserve to eat unless you work for it'.

One reason why starving yourself was easy for you when you need to.

But then things changed a bit when someone knocked on the door one day and gave your adoptive parents a good amount of money. You remember the man saying 'this is for the trouble and lost we caused your family during our battle for saving our children.' You do remember you aunt, being a good actress that day, crying and all. You even saw them be in a good mood. Everyday because of that money. So since then, whenever you have a part time job or one good seasonal job, you save up and give it to them.

You do this not because you want them to be happy. You do this because you wanted peace for yourself. They will not hurt you if you give them what they need.

This is one reason too why you accepted this marriage. Even though, you know you will have trials too. But atleast you know, no one is going to hurt you physically anymore.

Though, you are having troubles now too.... it is still different. Like you said, it is the communication.

Is it all Yoongi's fault? No. Taehyung said that maybe, since I'm very submissive and him being very dominant, grew up giving orders or not listening to anyone because he is who he is, it affected the talking part in the relationship. Though he cannot say that it is a hundred percent fact. Because he explain, everyone have different stories of growing up and these affects every facet of their whole being when they get old.

Well, that's what you got from all his talk. Half of it, you are numb from all the crying and can't hear properly.

Though that talk with Taehyung,you needed that. Now all you have to do is talk to Yoongi.

If.... you have the courage too.

It is so hard to start a conversation not knowing how he feels about you. It is scary and a risk. But you are hoping it will turn out good especially now that you are expecting.

"Oh, right! The result!" You got up immediately and grab your phone.

You visited Taehyung in the hospital and he got to help you get a blood test to confirm. You forgot to talk to him about the result because you two are busy with doing friend therapy. He said, he'll just email you the result.

But then as you were scrolling scrolling through your emails your stomach growls. "I'm hungry..." you mumble and pause. "Taehyung said that if I am really pregnant... I need to eat properly now..."

And you haven't eaten dinner since you just slept since you came home. You need to eat.

Looking at the time it's pass 10pm already. Everyone must be asleep now or getting to bed so you must go and make yourself food yourself.

"Just one toast." You say as you push your blanket away. "Or two..."

You walk along the hallways as quietly as you can and then take the stairs instead of the elevator, going to the upper ground, so you could not disturb anyone.

There is still minimal light coming from the kitchen area. 'Maybe someone is still there?' You thought to yourself and hoping it is one of the maids so they could help you grab the things in the pantry. Since you don't really know how they organize it.

But then the second you turn to the corner, to enter the doorway

"Ah!" You hit your head first at something. Or at someone

Then after collecting yourself from bumping on someone, you look up to see who it was. "Sorry, I wasn't looking at--"

Fuck! It's not Yoongi nor anyone of the staff.

You tried to run back and scream but it was too late. He was quick to cover your mouth with a cloth. A scented cloth. The smell quickly pierced your nostrils and immediately made you feel dizzy and sleepy.

You are barely awake but you know he carried you over his shoulder. You could see the floor and the lights slowly to flicker. You are about to loose it.

'Help... Someone.... Yoongi... please...' You say to yourself before totally loosing consciousness.

-----

Taglist based on the replies last post 🖤

@gaby-93   @goodbyetwenty   @baechugff

@amyz78   @qeen123   @armystay89   @bangtannie7 @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs @corruptedmistress @ot72025 @cheezwiz

@xkh0  @eli-deville

[muniimyg]

7.5: the perilla leaf 》 series m.list

note: nah cos why did u guys blow up 6.5??? jus cos it was nasty sex ????? WAS THE MIRROR SEX CH NOT AS HOT ???? 😭 jus kidding … hello to my new readers !! hello to my day 1s !!! i’m so glad u’re here <3 enj this ch as we are near the end … i know i took a hot minute... but now u guys will know WHY. pls lmk ur thots ,, i am in desperate need of validation cos i’m losing motivation 😀✊🏽 mwah ,, wuv u all ,, until next time !

warnings: this ch is lengthy !!! i'm too lazy to do a word count... anyways,, miscommunication (jk & mina, mina & oc, eunwoo & jk & oc, etc etc), rejection (take a wild guess 😛) and jealousy ((take an even wilder guess)) angst & implied smut (((pls do not be like jk,, he’s such a douche in this ch))) oc has mean girl vibes... etc etc👨‍🍳✨

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @ellesalazar

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @bloopkook @suciedad-divina @xelenavazquezx @kyjjk @parkinglot-nights @skzthinker @thisisaburnphone @rrjkive @hyuneyeon @chemicalclub @bbtsficrecs @ronyiboniyy @italiekim

//

When Yuna meets you, she's wearing Taehyung’s jersey. 

You keep your mouth shut about it, hoping if you don’t bring up her situationship with Taehyung—she won’t bring up yours with Jungkook. 

It’s simple girl logic. Something you’ve always loved about Yuna is that even though she is the nosiest human to ever exist—she knows her boundaries when it comes to you. With that, you’ve always felt safe with her. Eventually, you’ll tell her everything. Besides, what fun is being in a situationship when your loving friends come in with their thoughts and concerns? Evidentially bringing the truth to light and ending your delusion? 

No fun! 

Speaking of delusion…

“Oh my god,” Yuna gasps as she makes an effort to block your view. You huff at her, annoyed at how childish she’s acting. She waves her arms frantically, trying to keep you focused on the other side of the bleachers. Isn’t that ridiculous? For someone trying to get you to avoid looking a specific way, she draws all the attention to it.  “Babes, whatever you do, don’t look—___, seriously? Stop! Please, you’re just going to—”

In disbelief, you grumble; “why is Mina wearing Jungkook’s jersey?”

Your own words make you want to throw up. 

What the actual fuck. 

She’s standing a few feet away from the soccer team with her friends. The towels in their hands—at this point should be pompoms—make them look so… Entitled? You don’t even know half of the girls she’s standing with. Yet, you hate them. 

You despise them and the way they look so perfect. 

They’re all wearing a team member’s jersey… Mina just so happens to have Jungkook’s on. It makes you wonder… Did he give that to her? Did they meet after you two fucked? Did he really mean it when he said, “quickie?”

Did he mean anything he said to you at the party? Not that he was making promises... It's just irritating because you almost believed him. 

Believed in being his girl.

... Whatever that means.

His words were sweet but the way he looked into your eyes was his entire tell. They were sweeter. He had a softness in his gaze. It looked genuine—you swear it was. 

“I think the jerseys are from last season… Look!” Yuna tugs the fabric of the jersey sleeve to you and begins to point details out. “See? This is Taehyung’s from this season. It’s made of thinner material and even the colour is lighter! Mina’s is—”

You turn the other cheek, not bothering to entertain the rest of this conversation. What was the use? You’d only hurt yourself with all the overthinking and cause drama between you and Jungkook. Besides, you have faith in him. He knows how you feel when it comes to Mina… He wouldn’t push it, right? And if anything… You can’t seem to think of a reason why he would be upset with you right now. 

The quickie was just a quickie.

Not much to say. He was normal—until he left. Jungkook had left without saying goodbye and it made you feel a little weird. Not even a text? Not even a heads-up? Not even a kiss? Odd of him. 

Again, it’s nothing worth starting a fight. 

… And besides, when were you guys the type to fight over things like this? You two aren’t dating. Communication—in this sense—is it really necessary? 

“Shit,” Yuna nudges you. “She’s waving at us. Wave back so she doesn’t know we’re talking shit—”

“We’re not talking shit,” you hiss. “Who even cares?”

“Okay, jealous era!” Her words earn an eye roll from you. Quickly, you give in and flash Mina a faint smile and wave your hands at her. She giggles and returns to chatting with her friends. 

“Remind me again… Why did I come?” you groan as you take a seat. Ignoring you, Yuna sits down beside you and takes her phone out. You peek over and see that she’s texting Taehyung good luck. “Do you go to all their games?”

“I try to.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Yuna snorts. “Taehyung likes the support.”

You bite your tongue. 

Should you even ask? It’s probably safer to assume, right?

“Do you like Taehyung?” Your words come out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Afraid of her reaction, you brace yourself for her defensiveness. Instead, her lips curve into a smirk.

“Do you like Jungkook?”

Stupid question. 

Just when Yuna thinks you’re about to react to her question, the crowd begins to cheer. You two turn your attention to the field where your Uni’s team and the opposing team all come out and shake each other’s hands. Then, they run a small lap around the bleachers and briefly greet everyone. 

You watch Jungkook in silence. You don’t cheer his name or even wave. It doesn’t matter though. He sees you. 

When he does, he playfully squints his eyes and tilts his chin up. With both of his hands, he makes the OK hand gesture and brings the circle parts to his eyes. Then, he flips one. 

69. 

Your eyes widen. As you throw your head back to laugh, out of instinct, you give him the middle finger. He chuckles and returns your gesture by blowing you a kiss.

Mina watches as he blows his kiss towards you.

Her cheers go quiet. For a split second, you two make eye contact. She smiles at you shyly. You gulp and turn your attention back to the field. Shortly, the game begins. As the crowd cheers, she finds her mood again. Meanwhile, your attention goes back and forth to Mina, cheering on the sidelines, and Jungkook, playing like losing isn’t an option.

For some reason, you feel a little bad. She’s so supportive and cute (you hate to admit it)… And he’s… Well, why does it matter what he is? All you know is that he isn’t hers. 

Yet, he isn’t yours either.  

Jungkook scores the final goal. 

Of course, he does. 

As the crowd goes wild, you can’t help but join in. His teammates run to him, engulfing him like the ace he is. Jungkook pokes his head out and looks at the crowd. When his eyes land on you, you offer him and smile and a thumbs up. He sticks his tongue out at you before he returns to his victorious team. 

Shortly after, Yuna guides you down to the field the minute your area clears. As she does this, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. What were you going to say to him? Even if you had already seen and spent time with him today, right now feels a lot different. 

The way to the field isn’t that long of a walk. Suddenly, you’re standing across from him. He’s saying his last few goodbyes to his teammates and hanging back with Taehyung. Yuna sprints to Taehyung, happily congratulating him and teasing his soccer moves. You watch in awe as the two bond and laugh together. Walking to Jungkook, you keep your head high. 

He would be happy you showed up, right? You didn’t text him that you were coming… But this is a good surprise! At least, you hope it is. He mentioned not telling you about the game because he didn’t feel like begging you to come. Well, here you are. No begging and no sour attitude. You’re here for him. 

It’s all shits and giggles until Mina beats you to him.

He’s only a few steps away from you, but in an instant—he feels so far away. You pause, wondering if you should continue to walk to him. It doesn’t matter if he was watching or waiting for you to come to him; you can leave right now. You could turn around and just wait by the bleachers. Or… You could just go home.

Perhaps there’s a look in your eye that gives your thoughts away or maybe, your friends just know you too well. 

Yuna catches you backing away. She glares at you and side-eyes the direction towards Jungkook. In response, you shake your head with a polite smile—a smile that is trying to mask the fact that you kind of want to rip Mina’s cute head off. 

Polite. 

Just as you’re about to turn away, you feel someone grab onto your forearm. Looking up, you realize it’s Eunwoo. 

“When we were dating, I almost always begged you to come to these games,” Eunwoo complains, grinning ear to ear. “Funny seeing you here.”

Eunwoo isn’t on the team.

He doesn’t even play soccer, really. Basketball is more of his thing. In all fairness, he loves sports and a lot of his friends are on the soccer team. When you two were dating, you were almost never together on Friday nights because of these stupid games. He’d beg for you to come with him and you’d reject and promise him your Saturday night. 

“You aren’t even on the team,” you laugh, earning an embarrassed grin from him. “What’s the point of going to a game if your boyfriend isn’t on the team?”

He tilts his head. Suddenly, your words sink in. Did you really just say that?

“I came with Yuna!” you attempt to save yourself. “She always comes to these things… For Taehyung or something.. I—I just thought I’d c-check it out.”

Eunwoo gives you a funny look.

You aren’t sure if he bought your excuse but you’ll pretend like he did just to salvage any dignity you have left. Everything feels so embarrassing right now. Nothing is going your way and you just feel so out of place. 

Is it overstimulation?

You came all this way to see one person—why are there so many other people?

“Are you here to see Jungkook?” Eunwoo asks bluntly. “You know… Since he’s on the team.”

Eyes widened, you shake your head profusely. “Ew! W-what? No! Who said that? I’m here because my friends are on the team and—”

“You’re a bad liar,” he interrupts you. “Always have been. You should stick with being honest.”

You huff at him. Out of everyone here, he’s probably your safest option when it comes to admitting the truth. In a way—in your way—you give in.

“He’s talking to Mina.”

“Oh,” Eunwoo turns his head, seeing for himself what all your fuss is about. When he takes it all in, he turns back to you with a shrug. “She’s cute.”

“She is cute… You should date her.”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes before engulfing you in a bear hug. He ruffles your hair, knowing you hate it when he does this. You groan and shove him away from you. As you compose yourself, he sighs. 

“Yah, ___,” Eunwoo lifts his finger and points at you. With a serious tone, he warns you: “Don’t be so obvious with your jealousy. It hurts my feelings that you never acted this jealous when it came to me.”

You smile at him sweetly. “That’s because you’re a well-trained dog.”

“Ouch!” Eunwoo laughs, pretending you hurt his heart. “Yes, it’s true. What can I say? Any day being your bitch is a good day to be a dog… That’s why I’m still begging for you back even though I broke up with you.”

With a whiney tone, you say, “oh, shut up.” 

“Still a no to the whole getting-back-together-with-me thing?” he winks, sightly kidding and slightly not. You cross your arms and shake your head at him. He attempts one last time. “Awh, come on! We can even fake date just to get a reaction out of Jungkook… I have no problem betraying friendship for love.”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

This time, you roll your eyes at him and tell him he’s being ridiculous. You remind him that his little drunken confession at the party was close to meaningless. He knew from the very start that you’re the type to move on when things end. Good or bad, you never look back. You’ve lived your life this way for so long—you can’t recall whether it brought you more luck or pain. 

Eunwoo doesn’t care for your little speech. Instead, he laughs and continues to push your buttons.

“Wow, you must love Jungkook at this point. You know, you can just say that, right? You loveeee—“

You lunge yourself to him, attempting to playfully put him in a chokehold. He’s a lot taller than you so you struggle. Honesty, it’s cute and he can’t resist you. Eunwoo laughs and bends his knees, pretending to struggle as you seek revenge. He gives in, letting you have your way.

Meanwhile, Jungkook can’t concentrate on his conversation with Mina.

The big smile on his face faded as he watched you turn away when you were only a few steps away from him. How could you do such a thing? You walking towards him made him so happy. It was a sight he had been daydreaming of for the past few days. Though he saw you just hours before, he didn’t expect to see you at the game. 

He thought you didn’t care. 

Yet, there you were. 

Shit, how does he even begin to explain how it felt to see you there? How annoying it was when you threw your head back to laugh, and his heart raced like never before? He was obsessed with you. Every little thing you do—he was your number one fan. 

Except for moments like these. 

Where you hesitate as you walk towards him. Where you get distracted and forget about him just because your ex showed up.

Where you give up. 

“... And so, I guess… What I’m trying to ask is if you’d want to grab dinner with me and my friends? And then maybe we could do something after that… Alone? Like just the two of us?” Mina’s voice cuts in, interrupting Jungkook’s thoughts of you. “We could watch a movie at my place? My roommate went home for the weekend so we’d have the place to ourselves.”

He stares blankly, trying his best to process everything Mina is blabbing about. 

“Ohh… Thanks for the offer! You know the team and I usually celebrate with dinner together, right? ” Jungkook says it happily as if he isn’t rejecting her. “Next time?”

Idiot, Jungkook thinks to himself.

No next time. No this time. No nothing.

Why does he do this? Why does he always push things back for Mina when he doesn’t even want to reschedule? He doesn’t want to reject her… But he does.

Within seconds, the disappointment in Mina’s eyes fades when she comes up with a solution. Her eyes light up, believing in the compromise she’s about to pitch. “Then maybe I could join you guys? Taehyung and Yuna already know me and—”

“But it’s a team thing.”

Mina’s eyebrows furrow. Slightly offended, she pushes the conversation. “Oh… But Eunwoo goes. Yuna does too. She isn’t on the team—she’s just dating Taehyung.”

“No, she isn’t,” Jungkook laughs, finding the assumption cute. “At least, not yet.”

It’s not that funny, though. Mina doesn’t laugh and the silence between the two is heavy. Her facial expression drops, indicating her mood shifts to something less enthusiastic.

Annoyance?

Desperation?

Hurt.

“___ isn’t on the team. She isn’t dating you… But she’ll be there, right?” Mina chokes her words out as if she’s accepting her defeat. Saying this is a wildcard, but she plays it anyway. “Or what I mean to say is that she’s not dating you… Not yet. Haha.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. It’s dry and it’s… Nothing. No words, no thoughts.

He can’t think of a defense and he isn’t even really sure what he’s supposed to say. In his lifetime, he has gotten more than a handful of confessions… But for some reason, this one feels painful.

Pitiful.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jungkook breathes. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at Mina shyly. “I really appreciate the support—I really do. It’s just… I never wanted yours.”

Mina stares at him blankly.

“Okay, I get that… But… This is what you do when you like someone. You do thoughtful things they never ask for. You sit through their practices even if it’s pouring rain or hot as fuck. You wash your towels with their favourite laundry detergent because they mentioned they're sensitive to strong scents—no, actually… I think you drive them home and ignore the other girl who sits with his friends and waits for him… Right? You blow her kisses from across the field instead of the girl that helped set up for the game.”

Jungkook’s heart drops. 

“Mina—”

“I waited for you and you never came. You didn’t even text me. Do you know how that feels? To wait for someone and they don’t even—god, I like you so much I made myself look sooo stupid.” Mina groans in frustration. She puts her hands to her face, taking a breath in before continuing to get things off her chest.

“I should’ve left. Instead, I stayed and checked my phone every two minutes in case you texted. Then, I thought, okay… At least I can try to bond with your friends. But you know what? All they could talk about was you and ___. I sat there, listening and nodding like an idiot.”

Fuck.

Jungkook wants to sympathize with her, but can’t find the words or the strength to reach out. As he hesitates, Mina gathers her final thoughts and makes her last few moves. Abruptly, she shoves the towel in her hands to Jungkook’s chest. 

“She didn’t even know you joined the team again after quitting. She has never gone to a game until today. She doesn’t even chant your name or cheer when you score a goal. She’s over there, flirting with her ex-boyfriend while you’re here rejecting me.” Mina fumes. “Is that who you’re going to pick over me? If so, fine. Nice choice, Jungkook. I wish you the best. Thanks for wasting my time.”

“You chose to be here. Look at yourself. Why are you even wearing that?” Jungkook points at the jersey she has on. Mina tightens her lips, suddenly feeling ridiculous. She pushes past him but pauses when Jungkook mumbles the words, “You led yourself on.”

Sharply, Mina raises her voice. “She doesn’t even want you.”

Ouch. 

Mina’s words hit Jungkook right in the heart. Right in the spot where his insecurities and overthinking take place—the words strike him. 

They hurt him.

They kill him.

“Don’t speak for her,” he warns, gaze lowered and stern. “She may not have cheered as loud as you during the game, but who fucking cares when she was chanting my name the other night… Or was it before the game today? I can’t remember. Fucked around too much to remember.”

Mina darts Jungkook a glare. “You’re an insensitive asshole. Do you know that?”

Jungkook huffs, beginning to feel frustrated. “Your feelings are yours, my feelings are mine. So, you don’t get to say shit about ___ to me—not about the way she treats me or her choices. I’m a grown man, Mina. I can figure it out when I need to pull out and how much shit I can take.”

“Mind giving me a few lessons, then?” she asks, eyes beginning to tear up. “I think I put up with yours for a minute too long.”

Everything becomes difficult in that exact second. There’s so much empathy Jungkook wants to express, but can not. He should not. He needs to pull away now or else he would be doing exactly what she’s accusing him of doing—leading her on. 

“I’m sorry, Mina,” Jungkook apologizes softly, truly feeling stuck. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Mina sighs, eyes watery from the tears that threaten to fall. “You’re a grown man, Jungkook. You can figure it out when you need to pull out and how much shit you can take.” 

Jungkook lowers his head, feeling bad for his harsh words. A part of him hates how this interaction went down. He could’ve been kinder. He should’ve been kinder. At the same time, it feels like this is all worth it. There’s no better way to end things than just to cut everything off. 

Still, he attempts one last time. 

“Mina,” Jungkook raises his face and looks at her in the eyes. “Look, I was as honest as I could be. I didn’t know I would like her so much. I didn’t know I’d feel this way about her at all… It just happened. I don’t mean to be an asshole. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m so sorry. With my whole heart, I am so fucking sorry."

Mina gulps, a little taken aback by his words. There’s a relief in her heart when Jungkook expresses his feelings to her. At least, there was clarity.

At least, he was honest.

At least, it ends like this. 

She balls her fists and raises them. Waving them in the air, slowly and cutely, she smiles at Jungkook one last time.

Softly, she cheers, “go, Jungkook. Go.”

In the past, the friendgroup seating arrangement was a no-brainer. The order always went: other friends, you, Yuna, Taehyung, and then Jungkook. This was the blueprint. 

Tonight, it’s different.

It earns a few confused looks, but nothing major. No one thinks twice about it. Maybe that’s because they didn’t catch the small moment in between—the one where Jungkook tugged on the hem of your crewneck and you complied. Taking a seat beside him, he keeps his hands near yours.

Though the restaurant is packed and busy, sitting beside Jungkook feels slow. 

Was this even possible? For time to feel like it slows down when you’re beside him? It’s like every gesture he makes, every word that comes out of his mouth, and every stolen glance at you feels mindlessly slow. Yet, your heart races beside him. Even then, you can’t deny how gentle he is. 

How every fingertip brush he makes is intentional. How he eventually hooks his pinky onto yours. How he inches closer and closer to you. Each time, you look away and pretend you don’t notice it. You do. You really do. 

It feels strange.

Back at the field, it felt like he didn’t pay attention to you. Was it because of whatever he and Mina had discussed moments before? He didn’t talk about it when he joined you and Eunwoo. Instead, he kindly greeted you two and excused himself to quickly shower at the locker room before heading out to dinner. You and Eunwoo agreed to wait for him. 

So, you can’t put your finger on it.

He was acting strange, but it wasn’t like anyone else was saying anything about it. A part of you wonders if it’s all in your head. Even though he had acknowledged your presence and excused himself politely—it felt like he was distant. 

It hurt your feelings. 

Why is he acting so weird? The possibilities you make in your head feel limited. The entire way here, you kept replaying moments between you two recently. What could have gone wrong? What could you have done wrong? What about him changed his mind about you? These thoughts flooded your mind so much that you didn’t even realize that he tugged on your crewneck for you to sit down beside him. 

Now, here you are. 

Mind racing with anxious thoughts, sitting beside the man who is the cause.

Your mind is telling you one thing, but his actions are proving otherwise. You don’t know which to believe and it makes you unsure of what to do. Everything is muffled and you can barely make out the small talk happening around you. The only thing clearer than your confused feelings are Jungkook’s gentle touches.

… That is until Yuna and Eunwoo begin to argue. 

“Don’t you usually sit beside her?”

Yuna dismisses him. “Who cares?”

“I do,” Eunwoo protests. “If anyone is going to steal your seat, it’s going to be me!”

“No! You can’t. You can sit beside Taehyung—”

Eunwoo crosses his arms at her. “I thought you liked me. Am I no longer your favourite?”

His words trigger Yuna’s shoulders to drop. She bites her tongue and side eyes Jungkook. Jungkook catches her look and simply clears his throat. Then, he nudges you. 

“Let Yuna sit beside you.” Jungkook’s tone is serious yet casual. You tilt your head at him and give him a weird look. 

“Why does it matter?” you press. In all honesty, you aren't sure of what answer to expect. You're just poking the bear just because you can.

“I’m sitting beside you,” Jungkook points out. “It only makes sense that Yuna sits on your other side. Your favourite people in the world, you know?”

Unfazed, you shake your head. “Be honest… Do you not want Eunwoo to sit beside me?”

“I’m sitting beside you. Focus on that.”

You huff. “It’s yes or no, Jungkook.”

“Or.”

He answers without a lighthearted tone. Without a smile. Without the intention of miscommunicating what he wants. You can’t help but pity him. It’s obvious he’s a little sensitive right now and considering how he left things with you earlier—maybe you should be kinder. Maybe you should cater to him tonight. 

But… At the same time… 

Jungkook is being difficult, so maybe you should run the same play. 

Okay, fine. 

Since the ball is in your court, you shoot your shot. 

“Eunwoo,” you say sweetly, “sit beside me. Yuna can sit beside Taehyung.”

Taehyung, who is sitting across from you, gulps. He instantly feels like he’s caught in the middle. Between trying to please every request Yuna throws at him to catering to his friends—when would this agony end? When could he finally have peace and not get poop anxiety from all this drama?

“But ___—”

You hush your best friend. Yuna pouts and glares at Eunwoo. Truth be told, she doesn’t care if she’s the one sitting beside you or not—she just didn’t want it to be Eunwoo. For Jungkook’s sake; she wanted it to be him. But by the looks of it, Jungkook is in a mood and you’re way too in your head tonight. Ultimately, she accepts her defeat and slumps beside Taehyung. 

Taehyung tries to cheer her up by pointing at her favourite foods. It works. She instantly smiles and sits up with pep. He lets out a breath of relief and shares a look with Jungkook. A, that-was-a-close-one kind that makes Jungkook laugh. You watch as he laughs and can’t help but feel your annoyance begin to fade. 

Okay… It’s confirmed. He’s in a weird mood tonight, but he’s still Jungkook. 

He is still your Jungkook. 

As Eunwoo settles beside you, he strikes up a conversation with the other teammates around him. On your left, you just hear Eunwoo talking your ear off. On your right, Jungkook goes on his phone and goes quiet. Only every so often would he chuckle or make a side comments. 

It’s then that you realize you hate where you’re sitting. 

So, you do the only logical thing you can. 

Flirt with him.

Slowly, you place your hand on Jungkook’s thigh. You lean forward, pressing some weight on him. He puts his phone down and looks up at you. Cutely, you smile at him and take your hands off his lap. 

Patting his head, you softly tell him; “Jungkook, you played well.”

You run your fingers through his damp hair and look into his eyes. You bat your eyelashes a few times, attempting to act cute. Deep inside, you hope this works. You hope you win him over. 

You do.

Right then and there, all his plans go out the window. He will never get used to this. He loves hearing praises from your lips. In complete trance of how you say it, what you say, and why you say it—everything. He craves for you to be obsessed with him the way he is with you. 

So, fuck it.

He could pause his sulky attitude for you. 

Anything for you. 

Jungkook’s lips curve into a half smile. “Don’t be cute.”

“Why?” you pout. “Is it working?”

“Are you trying to entice me?” He chuckles before leaning close to you and lowering his voice. “It’s working, I’ll admit that… But it’s kind of shameless of you to be trying so hard right now. Our friends are here, ___… Don’t start shit you can’t finish, pookie.”

Playfully, you hit his shoulder. “I always finish.”

“Is that so?”

You look at him as innocent as possible. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

Jungkook goes dizzy.

As he’s about to make a shameless remark, the waiter squeezes himself in between you two and places water down for the table. Everyone thanks him and reaches for a cup. Jungkook hands you one and you drink it. 

“Thirsty as always,” he shakes his head at you fondly. 

Then, he takes a sip of his water. By complete accident, some water spills and gets the corner of his mouth and a bit of his chin wet. You laugh, put down your cup, and tug on your sleeves. Without much thought, you move closer to him and use your sleeves to dry him. 

“You always spill your drink,” you nag. “Are you a child?”

He stays still, not wanting you to move away. “No.”

You taunt him. “Baby.” 

“Who the fuck is baby?” Jungkook mimics. 

Lowering your gaze, you send him a warning look. He laughs and puts his hands up in surrender. As you finish cleaning him up, you sneak in a final comment. “Yah, a lot of girls would break up with you if you do this shit on a first date… Such an ick. Imagine going out with a guy that needs a sippy cup.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at how extensive you’re stretching this out. “It’s charming. I make it charming. My girlfriend would just have to get over it. It’s that simple.”

“Sure,” you agree with a sarcastic tone. “As if I can ever get over it.”

At this point, Jungkook is going to lose track of how many times you’ve made his heart skip a beat. This is completely unfair. How do you say shit like that so easily and captivate him without even knowing? Should he say something about it? 

As he opens his mouth to speak, he loses his chance. 

“___, Jungkook,” Eunwoo chimes in, “Since this is ___’s first time eating with the team… Should we just order our usual?”

Jungkook nods, agreeing with the suggestion. You do the same and state you feel indifferent. Eunwoo then goes on and on about the food. He tells you about the dishes he thinks you’ll like and which ones you should avoid due to your preferences. All the shit he says are things Jungkook has noticed about you before—it just annoys the hell out of him that Eunwoo is telling you all this shit like he’s still your boyfriend. 

He isn’t. 

So, he should shut the fuck up, right?

Jungkook’s thoughts are put on pause when his phone vibrates. He looks at the notification and reads:

Yuna [8:07PM]: stop making that face

Yuna [8:07PM]: idk if u're jealous or need to shit

Jungkook [8:08PM]: lol but like did u see her flirting w me 😌🤘

Yuna [8:08PM]: yes. do u want a medal or smt?

Jungkook [8:09PM]: she wants me fr 🦄💕

Yuna [8:11PM]: is that why she nd eunwoo look like they're abt to kiss?? 😳

Instantly, Jungkook looks up from his phone and turns to you. You're just laughing and talking with Eunwoo. No kissing in sight.

Yuna [8:11PM]: made u look 🤣

Jungkook [8:13PM]: not funny.

Yuna's laughter fills the room. You turn to her, breaking away from your conversation with Eunwoo.

"What's so funny?" you ask.

She shrugs with a smug smile on her face. Pointing at him, she teases, "Jungkook's in a mood."

You look at Jungkook and see him roll his eyes. He sinks into his seat and mutters a few inaudible words. From the looks of it, you can almost swear that his eyes were a little teary. Was he about to cry or something?

"You okay?" you ask him softly. Your concern grows as he lifts his face and looks at you. He looks tired. Exhausted even. "Do you wanna talk?"

Jungkook feels a sense of relief.

You care.

Thank god you care.

In response, he squeezes your thigh. “I’m good,” he promises. “You okay?”

You nod, leaning in. “More than.”

It happens so fast. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you were barely an inch away from his lips. He even dipped his head—and then you caught yourself.

Holy shit, were you just about to kiss him? In front of everyone? When did this become second nature? You want to believe that only you caught yourself… But it’s too late. Jungkook was bracing himself. 

He knew what you were about to do. He was giving in too.

As you break away, his heart breaks a little. Laughing awkwardly, you turn back to Eunwoo and continue your conversation with him. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’s just hangry or purely annoyed with everything and everyone. He feels so alone. He hates that you’re right beside him too. 

He’s so fucking over this. 

When the food arrives, the spread is breathtaking. Maybe it’s because everyone is hungry as fuck and the game was a huge success, but the mood suddenly lightens. The smell of meat being grilled and the sound of the side dishes being passed around was music to everyone’s ears. 

As Jungkook grills the meat, he places the first one ready on your plate. He continues to pile your plate. With lingering eyes, Taehyung groans out in frustration. 

“Yah!” He cries, “that’s unfair. You can’t possibly give ___ all that meat! Give me some!”

Yuna hits him playfully and tells him to let Jungkook be. She reaches over to the other grill and places meat on his plate. Taehyung huffs, and sinks into his seat. 

“Jungkook used to put meat on my plate first.” Taehyung continues to whine.

You all hear him but choose to ignore his words. You aren’t even sure how you’re supposed to act with this. Jungkook was always sweet to you. He has always looked out for you. He has been a gentleman… Now that you’re paying attention to him—you can’t help but feel so infatuated. 

You're drawn to him.

“Do you even eat that much meat?” Eunwoo teases, as he reaches over your plate and picks a piece of meat off. He shoves it in his mouth and you laugh at him. His cheeks are all puffy from the food he stuffed in. 

“No, but that doesn’t mean you can steal it off my plate,” you mutter. “You’re such a thief.”

“I stole your heart once upon a time,” he reminds you. “I’ll be the thief if you’re the cop.”

You cringe at him. “Thank god you broke up with me.”

“You used to love my lines!” Eunwoo jokes, suddenly ruffing your hair like how he did at the field. You shove his hand away and groan at him. 

Jungkook witnesses it all.

The entire time, he feels like he’s being tortured. Sure, you’re allowed to have other guy friends. Sure, you’re allowed to have exes… So why was this bothering him so much? Eunwoo is a good guy too! He’s his friend and it’s not like Jungkook has dibs. If we’re being realistic—Eunwoo had you first. 

Cue Jungkook’s insecurities. 

Do they know how long it took for Jungkook to get to where he is with you right now? How long he had to wait just for him to be able to hook your pinkies together under a table? How long it took for you to sit down beside him without arguing? How long it took for you to accept his presence? How long it took him to get you to act cute?

Too long.

And here Eunwoo is—a mere ex-boyfriend—getting your banters and treating you like you’re still his. 

It makes Jungkook sick to his stomach. He’s losing his appetite by the second.

His thoughts are put on pause when Eunwoo proclaims: “___, look! Our favourite… Perilla leaves!”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge. 

You smile at Eunwoo and practically celebrate with him. As he picks one up with his chopsticks, another sticks to it. As you pick up your chopsticks, you take the other side and peel the perilla leaf apart. Together, you and Eunwoo giggle and wrap the perilla leaf with some meat. Suddenly, he brings his wrapped perilla leaf to your mouth. Happily, you eat what he offered.

“Good bite, baby.” Eunwoo praises you.

With a mouth full, you childishly hit him and scold him for not taking a bite himself. Eunwoo listens and picks up another perilla leaf. You two repeat to peel them a part and—

Jungkook wants to kill himself.

Oh god, he wants to rip Eunwoo’s head off. 

To make matters worse, Yuna attempts to be of rescue.

"Eunwoo," she gasps. "Aren't you being a little too shameless?"

Eunwoo shrugs as he prepares another bite for you. "Yuna, just because there's a goalie doesn't mean I can't score."

That does it. Something inside Jungkook snaps. He wants to be so mad at you—no, he is so mad at you.

How could you do this to him? How could you let Eunwoo say such things?

Don’t you know what this all means? Falling in love. Marriage. Children. A whole fucking nuclear future with someone that wasn’t him. It’s fucking insane you’d let Eunwoo go this far… And right in front of Jungkook? Were you serious? Do you hate him this much?

In a hurry, Jungkook takes his phone and opens his iMessage. He taps on your name— which is easy because it’s pinned—and sends you a text. 

Then, he puts his phone down and begins to shove food into his mouth. He stays quiet and glares at the meat as if the meat did him wrong too. He can’t even begin to express how he feels—it’s just all over the place. He is all over the place.

When his text is sent, your phone vibrates. You glance at Jungkook, a little confused as you see that he sent you a text. Sliding your phone open, you tap on his message.

mfker [8:32PM]: video attachment

Curiously, you tap on the video. As it loads, you turn down your phone volume just in case it was too loud. When the volume icon goes away, your screen reveals a familiar zooming in shot of Jungkook's face. He rolls his eyes and you hear yourself laugh. Suddenly, the angle switches to you holding the camera out at arms length.

You see the corner of your face. Your boobs. Your ass. His abs. His smirk. Him. Naked.

Your hands fly to your mouth, stopping yourself from gasping out-loud.

The sex tape.

Your sex tape with him.

In a split second, you shut your phone and turn it over. Wide-eyed, you push yourself away from the table and make the effort to excuse yourself. Everyone acknowledges your announcement but for Jungkook. He doesn’t even look up.

As you get up, you turn to him. You utter under your breath, “meet me outside. We need to talk.”

The minute Jungkook slams his car door shut, you get right to the point. 

“What the fuck was that?”

Jungkook settles into his seat, unafraid of your anger. He was unashamed. What he did was reckless, yes, but it was no mistake. 

With a nonchalant tone, he answers you. “What? The video? You told me to send it to you.”

Groaning, you bring your hands to your face. “Not during dinner! Not when our friends are sitting beside us! That was fucking embarrassing. Are you trying to humiliate me? That shit is private. It's us intimate. What kind of game are you playing—”

“I’m not playing any fucking game,” Jungkook controls his rage. “Why are you so embarrassed? Because it’s me fucking you in that video and not Eunwoo?”

Your eyes widen at his words. 

You want to scream. Instead, with a calm and slow tone, you confront him. “So… That’s what this is about?” 

Jungkook sighs heavily, clearly fed up with this conversation already. He doesn’t answer you. Instead, he reaches over and opens his glove compartment. As he rummages through, you huff at his avoidance. When he finds what he needs, he aggressively shuts the compartment closed. You watch as he brings his device to his lips. Inhaling, he takes a hit of his vape. 

You glare at him.

“Can you do that on your own time? I’m trying to talk to you.”

He turns to you and blows a puff at you. 

“Jungkook,” you warn him, “stop it.”

In response, he shrugs and takes a final hit. 

“I didn’t even know you vape,” you say quietly. “Aren’t you supposed to take care of your body and shit? As an athlete?”

He chuckles at the label. Athlete. Sure, that’s what he was… But he was also on a break for a good amount of time. He was also human. 

“I’m just stressed,” he admits. “You make me stressed.”

You laugh and take the opportunity to grab the vape from his hands. Without much thought, you open your door and toss it out. He rolls his eyes and just as he’s about to open his car door to retrieve it—you catch his wrist. 

“Can you focus on me?” 

As much as he hates to admit it, your words will always win him over. Even though he hesitates, he surrenders. Jungkook settles himself into his seat again and puts his hands on the wheel. Bowing his head, he shuts his eyes and takes a moment. 

Silence fills the car as you two try to figure out which direction this conversation should go. So far, not so good. 

You attempt once again. This time, you go from a different angle. 

“Why did you leave me earlier today? I know you were busy but… You didn’t even say goodbye.” In all honesty, you hate it when you say shit like this. You feel so weak and like you could let out a sob in between words. Not to mention the fact that you’re rarely in this position. This was new. You have never fought for anyone the way you fight for Jungkook.

“I had a game.”

Jungkook’s concise answer irks you. Was he fucking serious? Could he try even just a little bit?

“I know you had a game.. At least, I found out through Mina’s Instagram post… Which… I mean, you didn’t even bother telling me you had a game. Yuna goes to those—I can too.”

No.

That’s not even what you really mean to say. What you mean to say is: I want to go to your games. I want you to want me to be there. I want you to care if I’m there or not. I want to be the one wearing your fucking jersey. 

Jungkook responds plainly, “I told you… I didn’t feel like begging for you to come.”

“You don’t have to beg,” you pitch. “I would have—”

“You would have what?” he sneers. “Would you have come then? Without me asking? Without me telling you? Or did you come out of spite? Like, the fact that Mina was around me and you weren’t… Is that what brought you to me today?” 

Hilarious.

Wow, what a dick.

“No,” you object. “I came because you came over for a quickie and then left. Without a word. Without a kiss. It was unlike you. I wanted to talk about it but you’re acting like this and I can’t—I don’t understand what’s going on. Jungkook, what’s going on?”

At this point, you're practically desperate. You reach for his hands. Eyes searching for his, he shakes your grip off his hands the second you intertwine them. You furrow your eyebrows, completely confused and shocked at his rejection. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

“I hate you.”

Suddenly, your throat feels dry. In an attempt to calm your mind, you search for his hands again. For the second time, he pushes yours away. Then, you brace yourself. What he says next could ultimately be the end… Right? This is where everything is headed. 

The end. 

Then, he says the oddest thing. 

“I hate perilla leaves.”

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“Are you going to marry him?”

You blink.

“Who?”

“Eunwoo.”

For a moment, you wonder if he’s joking. Was he actually serious? Your question is answered as Jungkook lifts his head and looks at you with a sad expression. It takes you by surprise. Come to think of it—you’ve never seen him upset. At least, not like this. Not sad. Not defeated.

“You’re mad at me… Because of a perilla leaf?”

Your loss for words. Unexplainable. Unbelievable.

He looks at you with despair. “Do you not get it? ___, the next thing to happen after you peel perilla leaves with someone is holding hands with them. Then, you fall in love. Marriage. Babies. What about me? What happens to me, huh? What happens to us? You don't even hold my hand.”

You’re dumbfounded. 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious…”

“He patted your head. Are you a fucking dog?”

Sharply, you mention, “I patted your head too.”

It doesn’t matter. He looks at you dead in the eyes. “Eunwoo is supposed to be your ex-boyfriend, not your fiancé.”

You almost gag. “He’s not my fiancé—”

“You peeled the perilla—no. You let him feed you. Fuck you for that.”

Frustrated, you curse. “Holy shit, do you hear yourself?” 

He doesn't utter another word. Instead, he stays quiet. Then, when you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I hate Eunwoo.”

A beat.

“I hate Mina.”

Just as expected, Jungkook provokes you. 

“What the hell does Mina have to do with this—”

“Everything!” you express rather triggered. "Look, I don't know what you expect from me. I’m not going to go to your fucking practices with a towel in my hand ready to wipe your precious golden sweat. I’m not Mina—”

Jungkook cuts you off only to repeat his question. “What the hell does you not being Mina have to do with all of this? How does that justify the perilla leaf?”

At this point, you feel like you're losing your mind. Childishly, you chant: “Fuck the perilla leaf. The issue is that you're all about her. Mina this, Mina that! You’re so fucking annoying with her—”

Jungkook snaps. “Are you this insecure?”

“Fuck that,” you grumble. “She was wearing your jersey today. How do you think that made me feel?”

He glares at you. “You’re fucking insane if you think I rather see her wear my jersey over you.”

“Why’d she have it on then?” you interrogate. “Are you fucking her too?”

Line: crossed.

There's madness in Jungkook's eyes. His chest burns in slow anger and feels like he's overheating from everything you've said and done thus far. He's tired.. He feels like he's losing.

Fuck it.

One last fight.

One last try.

“Are you fucking serious?” Jungkook slows down his words, trying his best not to raise his voice. It’s so fucking hard. He’s so irritated by your attitude and your fucking delusion. “___, I acted like a total douche to Mina today so she’d leave me alone. I feel horrible already, but I also feel relieved. So, stop it. You don’t have to hate her. You shouldn’t hate her. You don’t need to make these fucking assumptions because that’s just out of line.”

Like fire, your own anger consumes you. “Are you defending her?”

“There’s nothing to defend,” he insists, voice beginning to tremble. “Holy shit, I was such a douche to her already so you can chill.”

You glare at him. “I am chill.”

Lies.

“You gave me a blowjob that one time so I wouldn’t make it to my dinner plans with her,” he comments. “That was a pretty bitch move.”

Out of reflex, your mouth drops a little. You can not believe it. Did he really bring that up? “Excuse me?”

Jungkook blinks at you. “It was a bitch move. I didn’t mind, though. Why? Because it felt like you wanted me. Every time you make me feel that way—I can’t let that shit go.”

“So what? Do you want me to say thank you?” you spit. “Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t care if you—”

“You never asked for it, I get that,” Jungkook interrupts you. He takes a minute. Suddenly, he recalls his moment with Mina at the field and feels his heart break a little. So... This is what it feels like to be on the receiving end. “What I’m saying is that I stopped entertaining her because I—well, I thought it would ease your heart. You overthink so fucking much, I'm beginning to run out of solutions. Do you even know how much I hate your jokes? The ones about me talking to other girls? I hate them. I only talk to you. I only think of you. Only you.” 

Your heart drops. 

“I never asked for any of that.” 

Something is wrong.

All your words are wrong. Everything you want to say is not coming out of your mouth. What you mean to say to him is; oh my god. You didn’t have to do that for me, but I feel so seen and heard that you did. 

Jealousy has always been a funny thing. Never has it been triggered the way it is when it comes to you and Jungkook. Though some may argue this to be toxic, it is simply the truth about relationships. Jealousy is a healthy emotion as long as it is expressed and validated moderately. It’s so hard to be upset with Jungkook when his confessions are so wholesome. He did a kind thing for you. He did it to bring you peace. Here you are, acting ungrateful because you can’t fathom the way he cares for you.

Jungkook huffs. “___, that’s exactly it. You never need to ask when it comes to me. Whatever you want, I give. I fold. Tenfold. That’s the fucking cycle we’re in and I’m beginning to get sick of it.” 

A silence falls upon you two. All you hear are the raindrops from the sky begin to splat on his window. For a moment, you get so lost in your thoughts, that your head begins to hurt. After a few more moments of silence, you realize it isn't your head.

It's your heart.

It feels like a knife has been stabbed into it—his and yours. All at once, it just aches. You both feel it. Your hearts grow tired and fragile.

Truly, it's ironic how the gentle silence is ruined by such brutal words. It's then when the knife, that was stabbed into both of your hearts, twists.

"What do we do now?"

"I think we need a break."

[whoreforsexymen]

Strong Drinks & Broken Links 🍺⛓️‍💥 CH. 1

Gray Hair & The Absence of Care

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Pronouns: GN!Reader (for now— please see this post for details)

Rating: SFW, except for strong language and consumption of alcohol (drink responsibly, people). Reader is old enough to drink, despite what Vander thinks.

Word count: 4.7k (the rest are going to be far longer, so be prepared)

Tags: Slowburn, Reader is implied to be 21+ years old, Age Gap, Heavy Use Of Language/Alcohol, Reader might be a little too angsty (I’m sorry), Tense Situations, Vander being the caring mentor type he is but in a poorly thought out way.

Notes: I don't think I've ever posted a fic on this account. So, welcome to my only outlet for the brain rotting obsession I have for this man. ALSO I SWEAR TO GOD NO ONE MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT SEASON 2, OR I'LL FIGHT YOU.

((If any of you want to be added to a tag list for this fic, please lmk!! Ask box is also open for requests/suggestions/comments 🤍 feedback is always appreciated 🤍🤍))

It had been a terrible night so far.

Not only had you been shortchanged more than two-thirds of the agreed-upon pay for a job you’d completed—but that paltry sum had quickly slipped from your grasp entirely, taken by a gang of thugs.

You had to give the undercity credit—it had an uncanny ability to remain a perpetual cesspool. You’d managed to take down two of the muggers, but the third—the one who’d made off with your coin—had slipped away while you were dealing with the others. Just your luck. The payout had been pathetic to begin with, and now you were left with nothing but the bitter taste of failure. It looked like you’d be scraping the dregs of the city to find enough for your next meal, yet again. 

That is, unless you decide to drink your dinner. As well as your sorrows, in the process. The idea struck you as you neared the central bar of the undercity, still sulking as you were making your way back to the shack you called home. The Last Drop. A name that said it all. If there was any place where the undercitizens of Zaun gathered, it was here. No doubt the owner had to be the wealthiest man in the area, though that wasn’t exactly saying much in a place like this. 

You made your decision. A warm meal might be out of reach, but liquor could suffice—if you drank heavily enough, that is. Or at the very least, it might dull the sting of the night’s failures. 

The bar was an eyesore, a hulking building among the rundown structures of The Lanes. A garish neon sign blinked above the entrance, buzzing like an angry fly, casting sickly light on the grime-streaked pavement. Inside, the din of loud music and the clatter of drunken chatter spilled into the street. It was a haven for folks with any background, no matter if they sought business or pleasure within its walls. 

You pushed through the door, noting how no one even bothered to glance your way. That was how you liked it—under the radar, always out of sight, always out of the mind of untrustworthy beings. 

Then again, you didn’t trust anyone anyway.

You duck and weave through the crowd of rowdy patrons, eyes scanning the bar for a table or booth at which you could hunker down and nurse your drink in peace. Your frown deepens beneath the hood of your jacket when you come up empty-handed. Typical. No matter, though. You’d have to order at the bar anyway, regardless of where you sat.

It’s when your eyes settle in the direction of the bar that luck seems to briefly shine upon you—there’s an empty stool. Without hesitation, you make a beeline for it, not wanting some drunken fool to snag it before you could. You practically dive-bomb onto the seat, landing with a small grunt, air knocked from your lungs. After the night you’ve had, this stool feels like an oasis, despite the new absence of oxygen beneath your chest. You settle into it like it’s the only thing left in the world, clutching the seat as if someone might try to commandeer it if you let your guard down low enough.  

The realization dawns on you that, in order to get a drink, you’d have to interact with the bartender. You hold that fact in high regard with contempt. 

Chit-chat? Not tonight– or truthfully any night. You’ve never been crazy about casual conversation. The events of the evening have only soured your mood further, and the last thing you need is some eager bartender trying to make nice. Normally, you’d avoid sitting at the bar for that reason alone, yet here you are.

Thankfully, the bartender pays you no mind, his attention fully set on the patron he’s currently tending to. That is, until said patron leaves and the barman finally turns to you, his new source of focus. 

The sheer momentum with which you rolled your eyes almost knocked you out of your seat. 

“Welcome to The Last Drop. What’ll it be?” His voice is deep, and heavy, garnering a thick accent that clung to every word. 

He’s an older man, though exactly how old is hard for you to pin down. His hair’s gray, his eyes tired, the lines of age having etched themselves into his face long ago. However, there’s something youthful about him—something that makes it hard to tell whether he’s an old-looking thirty or a young-ish fifty. Frankly, you don’t care enough to continue your mental evaluation of him. Age shouldn’t matter when it comes to bartenders. They either know how to pour a decent drink, or they don’t.

You don’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Something strong.” You mutter, your voice mostly flat, but with a hint of irritation that danced along the edge.

The bartender scratches at his graying beard, his gaze thoughtful as he considers your request. You grit your teeth, hoping he won’t try to scam you by giving you something weak and overpriced, just to line his pockets with your hard-earned coin. You’d seen it happen to others, and you’d be a damned fool if you let it happen to you. 

The bartender studies your face, or at least what he can see of it beneath your hood, before his gaze shifts to the shelves beneath the counter. After a moment of deliberation, he selects a bottle with thoughtful ease, pulling the cork out with his teeth. With his free hand, he grabs a tin cup and pours in a copious amount, sliding it toward you with a swift flick of his wrist. You’d almost call it a generous decision on his part, considering the fact that you hadn’t even paid your dues first. His choice to serve you first goes a long way in easing your suspicion, at least for the moment.

You dig into your pocket, retrieving the few gold coins you’d managed to hold onto when dealing with the aforementioned thugs. They weren’t enough for one measly meal, but they were enough for a drink or two– or three, but who’s going to keep track? Certainly anyone but you. You’d only stop once your pitiful wealth ran out. Without a second thought, you toss them onto the bar top, making it unspokenly clear to the bartender that you were hoping for much more than just this one drink. You grab the cup, lifting it to your lips and downing the lot of it in one quick, greedy gulp. The warmth spreads through you almost immediately, and it feels like a small victory over the obnoxious turn your night has taken.

The bartender watches this with a faint chuckle before you slam the empty cup back down onto the counter. He takes it without a word, refills the tiny tin chalice, and begins passing it back. Without missing a beat, you grab the cup from him, draining the contents in a second gulp before he even has time to set the bottle back down. 

“You look like you’ve seen better days,” he remarks casually, his voice low and steady as he finally reunites the bottom of the bottle with the countertop. 

“I’ve seen a lot of things.” you mutter, your eyes fixed on anything but him. The words come out flat, though there’s a weight to them. It’s more than just a refusal to talk—it’s a refusal to let anyone look too closely. You avoid eye contact like the plague. Eyes, after all, are the windows to the soul. And letting someone peer through them is a risky gamble you’ve never been apt to take.

You were clearly beyond uninterested in the beginnings of this conversation. The lack of willingness to be friendly reigning clear as you shove the tin cup towards him yet again. He grabs the empty cup and refills it once more—your third drink in under five minutes. He seems reluctant to hand it back. He maintains a grip on it as he eyes you again, this time much more thoughtful.

“Care to chat about it? Might be healthier than drownin’ yourself at the bottom of a bottle,” he offers plainly.

You give him a sidelong glance, not even trying to mask the edge in your voice. 

“Doesn’t sound like a good business strategy, encouraging your paying customers to cut back.” You fire back quickly, the sharpness of your words outpacing even your annoyance at the unwanted conversation.

The bartender chuckles again, a spark of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. There’s a glimmer of understanding in his smile—maybe he’s seen more than a few like you in this dive. Or maybe, he knows in the same fashion as you, that sometimes it’s more palatable to fill the silence with alcohol than with words.

“Fair point, but I’d prefer to keep my patrons alive. Helps me sleep at night, y’know?” The bartender shoots back, his eyes fixed on you, all too curious about what’s hidden beneath your hood. The conversation quickly turns uncomfortable, a painful reminder of why you’ve never liked bartenders—they always talk too much and ask too many personal questions. As far as you’re concerned, they should stick to the charade for the sake of their regulars, and leave all unsuspecting customers alone. 

The momentum of yet another roll of your eyes causes your head to bob ever so slightly— your hood creeping back towards the line of your hair. The new, incredibly subtle, view of your face made the barman clench the cup in his hands with rigor. 

His eyes narrow slightly, the amusement fading from his voice. 

“Where’re your parents, kid?” He asks, his voice low and in demand of an answer. 

The question hits you like a slap, and for a brief second, you find yourself caught off guard. You’re not someone who’s usually thrown by imbecilic remarks from the residents of The Lanes, but this one? It’s different. Not just the audacity of asking such a personal question, but the clear assumption of your age being made so boldly. 

Your head snaps up, and before you can stop yourself, you push your hood back, breaking your own rule about eye contact. Why? Who knows. Today has already gone off the rails, and you’re too far gone to care. The liquor’s sudden grip on your senses began to cloud your judgment, and honestly, it was far from shocking. To be fair, you had asked for something strong… Not to mention having no substantial food in your belly to dilute the potency you sought after. All in all, there was no ignoring how the liquor was starting to pummel you like a brick to the face would. 

You meet his gaze, eyes scanning his face for any sign of what he’s gunning after by asking such a question. But there’s nothing obvious behind those gloomy eyes of his. No clear motive. You can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to get under your skin or if he’s just another fool with a quick tongue. 

“Rotting in their graves,” you mutter, voice sharp and, in addition, spiteful. 

“Which I’m sure you’ve got one foot in, yourself, Gramps.” You make a mockery of the decades that are clearly stacked against you, hoping to push him back into his corner.

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he practically snorts, running a hand over his silvery beard as he crosses his arms; resting them across his stomach with the casual authority of someone who’s seen it all. He’s not rattled by your quips—no, not in the slightest. 

“How old are you, kid?” His voice is flat now, a hint of something more serious creeping in, though you can’t figure out why. You’re even more unsure now about his intentions. Constantly expecting the worst from people was your lot in life. 

“Too young for you.” You snap back, pushing forward with your usual sharpness, trying to regain some control over this ridiculous conversation. You reach for the cup he had refilled for you, but before you can even graze it, he snatches it away, clicking his tongue like a disappointed parent.

“Tsk, tsk,” he tuts at you, as if you’ve done something wrong.

“I asked how old you were.” he repeats, his voice now devoid of any amusement. 

He watches you carefully, his gaze inspecting your face as if he’s trying to peel back layers you didn’t even know were there.

You roll your eyes, irritation growing, and narrow them at him, unwilling to back down. You can’t tell if he’s probing for something deeper, or if he’s just getting off on making you uncomfortable. Either way, you’re done playing his game.

“Why are you so curious, huh?” you scoff, leaning in and making a bold decision to double down on your irritation. “I’m just another patron here to drown in my sorrows and drink them away. Not to mention, I’m paying for the privilege.” Your words are bold, and with that same boldness, you reach across the bar and rip the cup from his grasp.

You try to bring the drink to your lips, intent on finishing it off. But just as the cup nears your mouth, the bartender’s large, rough hand slips over the opening of the cup like a solar eclipse. 

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing as he sizes you up with a look that could strip paint. In that moment, something clicks in his mind. The defiance in your voice, the way you’re carrying yourself—it all reinforces his suspicion. You’re not old enough to be here. When you walked in, your hood had obscured most of your face. But now that it’s gone, he can see it clearly: you’re just a kid, trying to score some alcohol. The only thing that kept him from throwing you out on your ass, was your cadence. You looked young, and spoke carelessly, but you sounded grown. If you were in fact grown, he’d ease up. 

However, with the way you look—bloodied and bruised, no less—he’s convinced you’re in some kind of trouble. The kind of trouble he doesn’t want being drug through his bar. He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve pissed off, or what kind of people you run with. But this? This is his bar, and he’s fought too hard to maintain the fragile peace that reigns here. He won’t let you ruin that for him and his loyal patrons by dragging your poor choices in with you. 

“Seems I’ve struck a nerve,” he says, his voice no longer playful but flat and serious. “Either tell me your age, or you’re cut off.”

The room seems to hush around you. The muffled chatter of patrons behind you fades as the bartender’s tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. It’s a quiet threat now, the kind that lets you know exactly how much leverage you have—and how little he’s willing to tolerate.

“You didn’t strike shit,” You hiss. “and I don’t need to answer to shit.” You add. 

The bartender bends over the counter, his face inches from yours. The bitter scent of smoke hangs thick on his breath, hot and rancid, and it presses against your skin like a physical weight. The damp air in the bar swirls around you, brushing your cheeks with an uncomfortable warmth that feels suffocating, as if the room itself is closing in.

“Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll have no problem lettin’ my loyal patrons cut your tongue out for us to hang above the bar.” He says fiercely. 

You glance over your shoulder, catching the eyes of the dozens of patrons who have fallen silent, their conversations and business abruptly halted. It’s clear—they’re waiting for a signal, ready to back up their beloved bartender if things escalate.

“You can call off the cavalry, Gramps. I was just leaving,” you retorted, swiping one of your coins from the counter, as if to refund yourself for the drink you’ve yet to have. You release your grip on the cup, almost slingshotting it backwards from the sheer force you two had each been bestowing upon it. 

“Sit down.” the bartender commands, his voice low and final, as you attempt to abscond. 

You don’t reply, instead moving to shoulder through the row of patrons who are standing like silent sentinels, waiting for the slightest nod from their bar’s gatekeeper. It’s not like you expected them to part, but the way not a single person dares budge makes your blood boil. The crowd might as well be a wall of stone. 

“Sit. Down.” the bartender demands again, his tone sharper this time, a razor edge cutting through the haze of the bar.

You grind your teeth, your patience wearing thin.

“I’ll take my patronage elsewhere—”

You don’t even finish your sentence before a hand, seemingly out of nowhere, pushes you roughly back. You stumble, barely managing to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass. The sudden movement sends a rush of heat to your head, the anger spiking through your veins like fire.

You seethed at the touch, the anger burning hot in your chest, every muscle in your body coiled with frustration. But you knew better than to keep pushing your luck. Not today. Not in a situation like this, with dozens of hungry eyes watching, their hands twitching near their weapons of choice, waiting for the slightest excuse to make a move.

Biting back a torrent of curses, you forced yourself to swallow your pride, choosing to stay quiet—at least for now. It wasn’t worth the fight. You could practically feel the heat of their glares digging into your back as you turned on your heel, eyes locking once more with the bartender’s. You reclaimed your seat at the bar with deliberate flair, each movement oozing a sense of defiance and attitude. It was a performance, one you were used to. To you, it felt like you were playing the part of someone tough. But you knew, deep down, that to anyone else—especially the bartender—you probably looked like nothing more than a naive, immature idiot who didn’t know when to shut up. It wasn’t a great look, but at least it kept people from getting too close.

“I’m sat,” you muttered, voice brimming with the remnants of your irritation.

The bartender shook his head slightly, a hint of amusement creeping back into his expression. You could feel the tension in the room dissipate, the energy shifting as the crowd behind you resumed their rowdy conversations. The noise began to swell again, and for a moment, it almost felt like the bar was returning to some semblance of normalcy.

He grabbed a dirty glass from the counter, handling it with practiced ease, and pulled a rag from beneath the bar. As he began polishing the glass, he didn’t so much as glance your way. His focus was on the glass, and for a few moments, it felt like you were nothing more than a background detail to him. You could feel your impatience growing with each passing second. If he had something to say, you wished he’d just say it already. At least that way, you could get out of here—and maybe keep some of your pride intact.

The bartender continued his slow, methodical motions, running the rag around the rim of the glass with an almost exaggerated calmness. He didn’t bother to look up, yet you could feel the weight of his gaze on you through the silence.

“I’m gonna ask you again,” he said, his tone neutral, almost too much. “How old are you?”

You weighed your options. If you didn’t answer, you had no idea what would happen next. If you did answer, you still had no clue. It was a gamble either way.

“(Insert age here),” you muttered, the words slipping out begrudgingly, each one like a weight lifting off your chest.

The bartender scoffed lightly, a soft laugh escaping him that made your skin crawl. Your fingers began tapping impatiently on the bar’s edge, the rhythm a soft counterpoint to the growing tension between you.

“____ years old and still so naive… You really are just a kid, eh?” His words hung in the air, his eyes still locked on the glass in front of him, but you could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“There are worse things I could be,” you shot back, your voice laced with a mix of defensiveness and defiance.

“S’pose that’s true,” he replied, finishing up his polishing with the air of someone who had all the time in the world. He set the glass down next to the others—clean, polished, and waiting to be used. With a fluid motion, he slung the rag over his shoulder, then placed one hand on his hip and the other on the edge of the counter. He shifted his weight, leaning just slightly into the bar, his posture relaxed yet somehow still imposing.

“But on the other hand,” he said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone, “what you already are ain’t too good either.”

It wasn’t a threat—more of an observation, one that hung heavily in the air, like the smoke in the room. You felt the weight of it, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was a warning or just another way to mess with you. Either way, you could tell this conversation wasn’t over.

You could feel the first few bubbles of anger rising in your chest, the heat creeping up your neck as your blood threatened to boil. You’d always been quick to anger—an unfortunate side effect of your temper and stubborn streak. They were the crosses you’d carried for as long as you could remember.

You scoffed again, the sound sharp and biting, as if it were the only defense you had left. You had already rolled your eyes a dozen times tonight, but it felt like you were on the verge of an explosion.

“What’s your goal here, Gramps?” you spat, your voice dripping with sass, every word a little jab. You didn’t care to hide your bitterness. You liked to fight with words just as much as you did with your fists, and the bartender was starting to see that loud and clear.

“You got the answer you were looking for. Whether you believe me or not, you’ve already served me twice. If my age was such a concern to you, you would’ve kicked me out long before I even sat down.” Your words hung in the air once more, and you could see the gears turning behind his eyes, but he didn’t speak.

He just let out a quiet laugh, as if your logic amused him. And he didn’t bother to answer, not even in the slightest.

The silence stretched, thick and tense, and it was clear he wasn’t going to explain himself. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of an explanation. He simply leaned back, eyes flicking over to the rowdy crowd behind you.

It was infuriating.

You stayed silent for a beat, but only because you knew you’d have more to say. And damn right, you did.

“Do you do this with every new customer?” You snapped, your voice rising now, the frustration boiling over. “’Cause if you ask me, I’m not sure how this shithole’s still in business. You discourage your customers from drinking, even though this is a fucking bar, and that’s all people come here to do. You make it impossible to drink peacefully, just like you make it impossible to drink at all!”

The words spilled out like fire, each one more forceful than the last. Your temper was no longer something you were trying to hold back—it was running rampant, and it felt good to let it out, even if it was in the form of a scream. You weren’t about to let this bartender—this stubborn old man—have the upper hand. Not when it felt like he was deliberately pushing your buttons.

“So if it’s alright with you, Gramps, you got your answer, and I don’t owe you shit. I’m leaving.” You actually raise your voice purposefully this time, slamming your hands down onto the counter as you push yourself off of the stool once more. 

The bartender wasn’t fazed by your outburst. In fact, he’d dealt with feistier, louder, and much more difficult people than you—people who could out-shout you or out-punch you if they had to. He wasn’t bothered by your temper. He had raised four kids on his own, after all. He’d learned a thing or two about handling stubborn personalities, whether they were kids or grown adults who carried themselves like children. And you, in his eyes, were just another brat testing his patience.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was steady, calm, and authoritative, with an edge of finality that cut through the noise of the bar.

Before you could react, his hand shot out faster than you expected, grabbing your shoulder with an unexpected gentleness. He tugged you back into the seat with a kind of effortless force that made your breath catch in your throat.

You shot up from the bar stool in a flash, but his hold was stronger than you anticipated.

Instinct kicked in, and your own hand shot out like a snake, grabbing his wrist with a quick, almost violent motion. You shoved it off your shoulder, irritation flaring up like wildfire.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, your chest heaving as you glared up at him, the heat of the moment burning in your eyes.

You huffed, your fists clenching at your sides, teeth grinding. The room seemed to close in around you, but you weren’t backing down—not now, not after all of this. The tension between you and the bartender was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. You could feel the weight of the crowd’s silent attention being drawn to you once more as they waited for your next move, but you weren’t afraid. You didn’t have time to be.

The man let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with disappointment. 

“Look, kid—”

“By the fucking god’s, I’m not a kid!” you snapped, your eyes flashing a level of ferocity that sliced straight through him.

He pressed his lips into a thin, hard line, his gaze cemented on you still as he took a long, steadying breath. Patience was his virtue, and he was willing to endure this sparring match for as long as it took. 

“It’s clear you’re in some kind of trouble,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe, just maybe, instead of lashing out, you could let someone help—”

You cut him off mid-sentence, your words an unpleasant interruption.

“Help? You want to help? Surely that’s the wrong word. Surely, I heard you wrong, cause, from the way I see it, you’ve done nothing except cage me in here, threaten me, and withhold what I paid for. So if it’s with any consolation, take your ‘help’ and fuck off.” 

Enough was enough. Without another word, you climbed atop the stool, bracing yourself for what came next. You steadied your balance, then launched yourself toward the crowd with calculated precision. The dismount was quick—intentional, forceful. You tucked your legs in, soaring over their heads in a perfect flip, and extended them just before hitting the ground behind them. Without pausing, you bolted for the door, heart pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, you made it—flying through the door and slamming it shut behind you with a satisfying crash. Finally, you were free, never to be seen within a hundred yards of this bar ever again. 

The patrons had made a half-hearted attempt to grab at you as you rushed past, but a sharp, deafening whistle from the bartender stopped them in their strides. He shook his head softly, a silent message that it wasn’t worth the chase. That it was better to let you go. If you were in trouble, it would catch up with you soon enough.

Deep down, the bartender hated seeing someone so young seal their own fate in such a way. But, in the end, there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t save them all—no matter how badly he wished he could.

He couldn’t help but wonder— if maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too assertive, or downright impetuous with you after all.

But it didn’t matter now. You were gone. All he could do was hope you’d survive out on those streets. 

taglist: @blogforhoes @committingcrimes-2047 @dirtandcrime @eternalgoddessofart @woozulo @lutaaaslostacc-d8

[writingstoraes]

paddock greetings 💌

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: not proofread and not revised so please expect errors hehehe please lmk what u think by replying or messaging and if u wanna be part of my taglist! <3 this is a bit long! hehe

about: for your 5th anniversary and engagement, the drivers send their greetings with a bit of banter in the comments as always.

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, arthurleclerc, and 1,560,431 others

lewishamilton Greeting this two a happy 5-year anniversary and wishing them the best as they take another massive and wonderful step in their life! Best wishes to the best couple I know ❤️

charles_leclerc Thank you, mate! Also huge thanks for setting me up with her, wouldn't be here without you 😅

lewishamilton Well you wouldn't stop asking about her so I gave in 🤷‍♂️

charlesrari LMAOOO SIR LEWIS AIRING OUT CHARLES' BUSINESS LIKE THAT

yourusername thank you, lew! wow imagine if i never went on that blind date...

pierregasly I think you would have found someone better

charles_leclerc You have one minute before I pay a visit to your room.

pierregasly

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, yourusername, and 506,771 others

pierregasly Congratulations on the engagement of the two craziest people I know 🥂 Pls stop asking me to take cheesy pictures of you guys sometimes what you do in front of me is unacceptable. I still remember being behind the camera when I took you guys' infamous yacht shots 😮‍💨

yourusername not you saying we're improper im literally the third wheel when you and charles are together???

pierregasly Y/N you took Charles away from me can you blame me

charles_leclerc Pierre what

pierregasly Are you choosing your wife over me? Wow okay that hurts mate

danielricciardo

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, arthurleclerc, and 905,660 others

danielricciardo Some outtakes from my camera of Y/N and Charles. This was the first time Charles took Y/N on a trip with us and they honestly just bring out the best in each other. No better day to post this than now. Congratulations on the engagement, you two! 🎉 Wishing you live a life filled with love and happiness.

yourusername DANIEL WTH this is so pretty :(( these pictures are a blessing, thank you danny 🤍

charles_leclerc Thank you, Daniel! And thank you for my new wallpaper hahaha

carlossainz55 You're replacing me already?

charles_leclerc Mate you were never my wallpaper

pierregasly Don't even bother Carlos he's a married man now

yourusername what i have to deal with every day...

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen, charles_leclerc, and 432,679 others

landonorris Congratulations on the engagement Y/N and Charles! I want to let you know that I am utterly disgusted by the two of you please stop flirting in front of me ❤️

yourusername you greeted us but at what cost

charles_leclerc ... Thanks???

ferrarifan3 Lando greeting like a true friend we love to see it

charloslove LMAO I KNEW LANDO WOULD HAVE THE FUNNIEST GREETING

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, isahernaez, and 860,560 others

carlossainz55 Love you both to bits but honestly third-wheeling with you guys has got to be one of the worst experiences ever. "It'll be fun, Carlos," but then they'd leave me in the middle of the road - this happened in Madrid by the way and I will never live it down. Happy engagement, Charles and Y/N 😁

charles_leclerc Carlos we did not leave you we just bought food

carlossainz55 You were gone for 30 minutes?

charles_leclerc The taco line was long you said you wanted tacos!

myferrarimen this banter is what i live for honestly

yourusername why were u in the middle of the road anyway

carlossainz55 I dont remember 🤷‍♂️

charles16 how carlos doesnt get lost on a daily basis is a mystery to me

pierregasly Lmaooo they left you

yukibabie "I will never live it down" king of grudges

---------

tagging: @slytherheign <33 hope ur video recording for class went well mwah

notes: thought this was a rlly cute idea and my classes start on monday so its a bummer :// my masterlist is up and running so u can navigate thru my works on my pinned post! lmk what u guys think <33

[ninesbey0nd]

Forbidden Waltz | Kang Yeosang

SYNOPSIS. Your university is quite well renowned for its creative and abstract programs, so it was no surprise that the majority of the students were pursuing a profession in arts. There was a focus in art, film, dance, drama, music, you could go on. These departments, however, enforced an unspoken, exclusive clique social norm. You never understood it. Thus, the student body was quite split based on their major.

PAIRING. Dance Major! Yeosang x Art Major! Reader (afab)

GENRE. enemies to lovers, mutual pining, edgy Yeosang, smut, Dom! Yeosang

WARNINGS. Profanity, NSFW, bullying themes, unprotected sex (wrap ya willy!), penetrative sex, fingering, oral (giving) semi public sex (?)

if you wanna be added to my tag list lmk! :) <3

Reqs are open!

Ever since freshman orientation, you remembered that one man’s stupid fucking face

Kang Yeosang

He was one of the most talented dancers to enter the university's program, being consistently scouted and recruited from various labels and companies

Despite this, he never paid attention to any of the offers he received

He would always gloat about how he valued the college experience more than putting himself out there for fame

You couldn't stand him. He was so full of himself.

Sure, you would admit that he was good-looking. Maybe more like exceptionally good-looking, but you would never admit that aloud

He already had the entire student body whipped for him. Not only was he phenomenal at dance but he had a charismatic personality as well

He was a magnet for people, that was for sure

quickly climbing the social hierarchy at the school, and of course, being in a completely different field of study had the two of you barely seeing one another

which was a good thing, you thought

You didn't know what it was, but something about him really bothered you

He always presented himself as a model student, he wouldn’t take anything less than perfect

In addition, he seemed to have no qualms with anyone, including departments outside of dance

He was odd, that was for sure

You swore this kid was some sort of machine from what you heard about him, it seemed too good to be true

And you were right

You have to walk past the dance department to reach your section of the art building

A practice room door is cracked open and you hear someone… punching a wall?

You poked your head in and saw none other than Yeosang slumped against the mirror, head held in his hands

“I fucking hate this goddamn school I hate all these annoying ass dickheads I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here.”

Holy shit.

Mr. Perfect wasn't so perfect anymore

You were lost in your own wave of thoughts until you noticed Yeosang looking directly at you, eyes narrowed to points

“What the fuck do you want?”

He is not having it.

Who does this art nerd think they are? invading his practice room like it's some kind of open house.

“Get the fuck out,” he pulled himself upward and took a few steps toward the door where you stood

Your lips flatten into a tight line. “Sorry, sorry I’m going—,” You pulled yourself away from the door and slammed it shut

Fuck.

He was not happy.

You knew the power he held on campus too

Anxiety hit you like a bus.

What if he told people that you were a creep?? What if he got the art department to turn on you??

You vigorously shook your head, praying that nothing would come from that interaction

boy were you wrong

You swore you never saw this man on campus and now suddenly you see him everywhere??

Wherever you go— the library, dining hall, and in the unfortunately shared building between art and dance — he is always right behind you

It got to a point where you would purposefully show up early or late to places to avoid spotting the all-too-familiar brunette.

That was until he had you cornered in your art room.

“What are you doing here?” You spun around, dropping the brush in your hands and nearly kicking your easel over

“You don’t belong here—“

Yeosang slammed the studio door behind him, rattling your art supplies on the table.

You nearly jumped a foot into the air

“What the fuck!”

He simply folded his arms over his chest and leaned his body against the doorframe.

“I thought it’d do you well to have a taste of your own actions,” He yawned, his gaze followed your movements in an almost predatory manner.

“Are you serious— it was a mistake! I never meant to go into your dumbass dance studio,” you scoffed, returning your focus to the painting in front of you.

As you swiped your brush across the textured canvas, doing your best to avoid the pair of eyes burning into the back of your head, you failed to notice a shadow looming over your figure.

“Hmm, maybe you are talented after all.” Yeosang’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck, tickling your skin softly.

You leaped out of your seat, tripping and nearly knocking everything over in front of you had you not saved yourself on a nearby counter.

“Seriously Yeosang, get out.” You hissed with disdain. “I can’t focus on getting anything done when you’re—“

He advanced toward you, step by step.

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten to you until your back hit the edge of the counter.

shit

His hands caged you against the table and you felt him tilt his head down toward you

"Hm?" His eyes raked down your body as his head leaned to the side

“Whats wrong artsy?” He wore a shit eating grin displayed across his lips.

“Yeosang Im not playing around right now I need to—!”

You were cut short as his lips crashed against yours. His hands moved from the counter to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You found yourself frozen, before you melted into his touch.

What has gotten into you?

He pulled away for a split second to take a breath, his gaze resting on your lips.

“I didn’t take you as a rule breaker,” He chuckled lowly, his hand traveling to the side of your waist.

You hated to admit it, but something inside of you was actually enjoying this.

A dance and art student?? getting together?? never heard of.

Let alone in the middle of an art studio.

“Yeo—“

His hands gripped your sides and he lifted you onto the counter, boxing you in with his arms.

“Hmm?” He looked up at you, his eyes flashing with mischief.

“We’re in an art atudio,” you hesitated, shifting your weight around.

“And?” He leaned forward, causing you to lean backward on your hands.

“I— Isn’t this a little much?” Your eyes darted around the room, inspecting the entrances and windows.

“Not if we make this quick,” Yeosang grins up at you.

His hands make their way down to the waistband of your bottoms. His eyes meet yours, waiting for any hesitation or uncertainty.

“Y—You can.” You managed to sputter out, turning away from his gaze.

Despite looking away you could practically feel him smirking.

His fingers dipped up under your shirt, the tips of his fingers grazing over your waist before dipping down and hooking onto your waistband.

You lift yourself up slightly, allowing him to better remove the article of clothing.

“That’s my girl,” he cooed, slipping your bottoms off your ankles before tossing it aside.

“Yeo,” you whispered in a hushed tone, squeezing your fists beside you.

What a tease.

His fingers travel down your stomach to the innermost part of your thighs, tracing delicate patterns along your skin.

You whined in response, tensing your legs together as if to create some sort of friction.

His hands continue kneading your thighs until you feel a finger graze your slit.

You let out a soft moan in response, eliciting a pleased hum from Yeosang.

He teases your entrance, spreading your arousal around before plunging a finger inside of you.

You let out a soft moan, “Yeo—“

Your voice catches in your throat when he starts pumping in and out of you, curling his finger upward with his movements.

Your hands fly to grip the table beneath you and you stifled the sounds that threatened to escape past your lips.

He slips a second finger inside you, his movements quickening with each stroke.

He grins up toward you, a seemingly sweet face in contrast to what his hands were doing to you.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t wanna get caught,” he leaned over you before sliding his fingers out of you and guiding you off the counter.

His hand caressed the side of your face before he began to lower the waist band of his pants.

You slowly sunk to your knees, your hands over taking his to lower his pants down beneath his hips.

All that was left was his boxers, and you could practically see the outline of his hard on

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers before sliding them down his thighs

Holy fuck

You wrap your fingers around his length, stroking him a few times before you engulf him with your lips

He lets out a low groan of satisfaction, his hand traveling down to cup your cheek

You began bobbing your head down his length, and Yeosang’s head lulled back

“You’re doing so well for me,” he whispered, looking down at you to meet your gaze.

Your eyes met his as you kept up with your pace

Yeosang fisted your hair, guiding your head down his length when a sharp knock to the door alerted you both

You pulled away from him immediately, scrambling backward to put distance between the two of you

The door handle jiggled, and to your relief it had been locked

Yeosang chuckled silently, his gaze shifting from the door back to your form on the floor

“What, did you think I’d be so careless?”

“Now, let’s get back to where we left off.”

[taeraeszn]

hi! could i please request zb1's reaction to their s/o sleeping on another member? <3

how would zb1 react if their s/o slept on another member?

hello! thank you for the lovely request and im sorry it took me forever to get to!! i'll try to be more active from now on <3

i tried to make gunwook's and yujin's age appropriate too. please let me know if there's anything you want me to fix!

warnings: mention of food, lmk if there's any more!

kim jiwoong

I think jiwoong wouldn't tell you that he doesn't like it

but on the inside he's just freaking out since you have never slept on another member before

he just observes you casually resting on hao and hopes that you just move off but it doesn't seem like you will be

he doesn't express his jealously either but moves to sit next to hao and slowly puts your head on his lap

he turned to look at hao who was still deep into the show playing on their large screen

hao noticed jiwoong and chuckled, "they just happened to lay on me."

"i didn't say anything about that." he smirks and focuses his attention on the tv as well, acting like he wasn't ready to pull you off of his teammate.

but jiwoong is relieved that he didn't have to be jealous now <3

zhang hao

hao takes this into his own hands after he spots you sleeping on hanbin's chest as you were visiting the dorms that day

he gets closer and tells hanbin that he can take you to his bed in the dorm

he picks you up bridal style and walks you to his bed :")

hao also covers you with his blanket and stuffed animals to keep you company

though he still makes sure to not wake you and does this all gently

he then leaves a soft peck on your head, whispering a small, "i love you."

as he walks out, hanbin is standing there, arms crossed while smirking, "someone's jealous."

hao playfully hit his shoulder, "shut up."

sung hanbin

you guys were all on a road trip while in a van together and due to unforeseen circumstances, you ended up sitting next to jiwoong while hanbin was driving at the front with gunwook in the shotgun seat

the whole ride he was watching you from his rear-view mirror

hanbin eventually parked at a rest stop where everyone rushed out to head to the bathroom or to grab a snack

you were still asleep in the back, and jiwoong had left to take care of the younger members who were already running ahead

he smirked and went to the back seats near you, embracing you in his warm chest

as you woke up in a daze, you saw your boyfriend next to you

"c'mon, you can sit in the shotgun seat next to me."

needless to say that gunwook was complaining the whole ride about why he couldn't sit in the front anymore

seok matthew

you didn't mean to but after a long day of doing errands, you ended up falling asleep in the living room of their dorm

you thought the person you were laying on was your boyfriend matthew but it was actually taerae!

when matthew left his dorm to grab a snack from the kitchen, he noticed you right away as well as taerae who was just cluelessly looking at you, unsure of what to do

matthew gave taerae a look to which taerae shrugged

"i think they thought i was you." taerae reassured matthew

matt then joined the two of you, allowing taerae to move that caused your head to hit the couch cushion.

matthew slowly rubbed your head and positioned himself so that his legs were a pillow

"you've worked so hard today baby, i love you."

kim taerae

you went to watch a movie with taerae and matthew, it was a hit and you were begging taerae to take you there

matthew also asked to tag along since he was talking to taerae about wanting to see it

you were sat in between the two boys in the back of the theatre

what you didn't expect was that this movie was incredibly long and caused you to be extremely tired half way through

in the dark room, you leaned your head onto the person sitting left to you and shut your eyes, not bothering to check if it was your boyfriend

taerae's focus then shifted to you and matthew. he was unsure of what to do in this situation, but he wished that you would've done that to him

he pokes matt's shoulder and politely asks him to move you torwards him, matthew chuckles and makes a joke about it but eventually listens to his friend :)

ricky

you were at a party with ricky when this occurred. by this time it was midnight and you were so ready to go home and plant your face into your bed

but ricky insisted to stay for the pizza so you had no choice as he was your ride home and the person you came here with

you headed to a random room where gyuvin was sitting in, you knew gyuvin very well and considered him a close friend as he was best friend's with your boyfriend

"tired?" he asked, you nodded, "god i wish i could sleep."

he then patted the empty spot next to him "then sleep."

you didn't see a problem with it since ricky never seemed bothered by yours and gyuvin's friendship and rested next to gyuvin

ricky was now on a hunt to find you after you had just disappeared, as he searched the large house, he eventually found you and gyuvin together. your head was resting on his chest which made ricky side eye his friend

"don't blame me, they were tired." gyuvin said in defense

ricky then slightly shaked your shoulder, "babe? let's go home.."

kim gyuvin

ricky was helping you with your chinese homework as you couldn't find out a question

gyuvin was in the same room but sitting on your bed as you and ricky were sitting at your desk

gyuvin enjoyed seeing the two of you bond together as he's been wanting the two of you to get close

but he didn't expect for you to be that close as you were laying on ricky's shoulder!

he shut off his phone and went to inspect closer, that's when he saw what was going on and worried

"(name)? ricky, don't tell me you overworked them!" ricky gave him a side eye and chuckled

"what? no i didn't! i was explaining to them about a character but then they just fell asleep."

gyuvin smirked then pushed ricky out of his room, "okay well that's enough chinese lessons for today!"

"what-wait! we're not done-" gyuvin shut the door even before ricky could finish

park gunwook

gunwook being class president means that he likes having a good reputation

and he shows this as he has no grudges against anyone

but when you two were heading home, he spotted you sleeping on yujin in the train

at first he didn't mind it but was now regretting sitting across from you rather than next to you

but the train was packed and he couldn't just push yujin away from you

as the next stop was announced, almost everyone got up and then the train became a ghost town as everyone departed. except you three

yujin was unbothered and scrolling on his phone, gunwook this chance and sat next to you, slowly adjusting your sleeping position so that now you were resting on him

yujin looked up from his phone, catching gunwook doing this to which his hyung just glared at him

"hyung? were you jealous?" he laughed, gunwook shrugged, "maybe."

han yujin

the upcoming exam season was stressful and demanding to say the least

you and yujin had been heading to the nearby library everyday since, changing a subject to study for each day

one day gunwook asked if he could join you guys since he was struggling in a subject. yujin agreed, not expecting anything to happen. knowing that gunwook was well aware of your relationship with him

but as you were memorizing the terms on your flashcards, your vision become blurry as you were unable to keep your eyes open

yujin was sitting across from you, still reading his textbook and jotting notes down as gunwook was also reviewing your flashcards

your boyfriend doesn't seem to notice but gunwook does and shakes you lightly, he moves his chair closer to yours but this results in you resting your head on his arm

gunwook is flustered by this and slightly chuckles, "(name)..wake up."

yujin looks up and sees this, he shuts his textbook and makes his way towards you

"they must be tired from studying everyday. let's head home guys." he says while rubbing your forehead. you guys then wrap up early and head home with yujin holding your hand the whole time

[rab1darachn1d]

INTRO💥💥💥

Name: Ozzie/Sunday/Kafka + anyname from my url

Pronouns: he/they pref but idrc

Agender, bi, aroace spectrum

TVhead robotkin and spiderkin💥💥💥

Special interests are spiders(specifically tarantulas) and psychology

Dyslexic!!! Sorry for spelling mistakes/reading stuff wrong and please don't use super small or hard to read fonts when talking directly to me!!! Typing quirks are fine but if you can control them or add translations thats greatly appreciated

MINOR!!! idc if ur over 18 and interact or if we are mutuals but dont be weird please I will just block you

WE STAND WITH PALESTINE🇵🇸🍉

(@remindertoclick <- DO YOUR DAILY CLICKS OR I'LL THROW ROCKS AT YOU)

@mechcanicalmadness MY BESTESTFRIEND AND COOLEST DAD EVER ALSO GUY WHO MADE THE FIRST 2 ARTS BELOW 💥💥💥

@absolutelymadoka IS MY MAGICAL GIRL DAUGHTER !!!! THEY ARE THE SILLIEST AND NICEST EVER BE NICE TO THEM

I help with the @bungostraycreatures gimick blog acc go look at it its run by my bestest friend :3

@sundazeing is my icons/npt/moodboard blog!!! Requests are always open, read the rules and dni if u you have anything you want me to make B)

@queenofthecafe is my Lucy bsd rp blog >::)

(user box made by @/absolutelymadoka)

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

WARNINGS /BFYI / FOR MOOTS*****

-I type in caps a lot

-Im not very good a tw tagging things tho I try my best !!! If you get triggered by anything I post/rb lmk and I'll tag it

-I swear a lot !!! Like way too much !!! I do not give a damn abt slurs AS LONG AS YOU CAN CLAIM THEM !!! IF I FIND OUT YOU USE SLURS YOU CANNOT CLAIM I'LL CALL YOU A BIGOT AND BLOCK YOU

-Anything suggestive is a joke and do NOT make jokes like that to me if we are not friends I will call you a freak

-I like to give people nicknames/ shorten people's names(mainly if ppl have a long ass name/url and it fucks me up tryna type it) but if that bothers you lmk

-Not good with tone so I use tone tags, you aren't forced to use them but if you'd like it'd make communication easier

-I have a bad habit of randomly disappearing for a few days for whatever reason, so if I accidentally ignore you sorry, please don't take it personal

-If you are a shithead to my mutuals I will be a shithead towards you <3 also blocked <3

-DMS ARE OPEN !!! FEEL FREE TO TALKS/RANT/VENT ABT WHATEVER !!! however I'm not very good at socializing and if I seem rude, standoffish or awkward I'm so sorry💀💀💀

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

SYSTEM THINGS*****

-i am the host and this is my acc though they post shit on here too

-their posts will be tagged with ***postinghours(sakepostinghours for an example)

-I love answering questions!!! However I am not a medical professional and I cannot diagnose you or speak for other systems!!!

-^ Don't ask abt triggers, alter roles or trauma I will ignore you or call you a dumbass nosey weirdo

-fictive heavy(dont be weird about them or theyll block you and idk probably call you a freak)

-^ don't bring up source trauma unless they make jokes about it first OR if they are friends with you

-^ First to treat any of them like a fictional character gets their limbs ripped off<33

-if ur another fictive theyd like to say hi but dont be weird and understand they might see you differently then how you remember them

-if you say "Can *** stop fronting/can you switch with ***" I will throw rocks at you and you will get blocked

-^ if u wanna talk to someone or have a message for someone we are happy to tell them

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

DNI*****

-basic dni(homo+transphobe, racists)

-"radqueers" and "transids"

-Proshippers and zoophiles(YALL R FUCKING NASTY GO AWAY)

-"radfems" and "terfs" (fuck you go away)

-Pro Israel mfs

-Endos/Tulpas/Willows/Mixed Origin, we will not participate in any syscourse but yall make me uncomfy

-^supporters of those

-"*** personality disorders are absuive" go away die go shoo get OUT(ily people with personality disorders)

-people who are against others with "scary" disorders fuck off you aren't helpful

-pro ed/"thinspo" mfs... wth are yall doing

-NSFW ONLY blogs (nothing against yall but im a minor)

-people who are shitty towards therians, otherkins, xenogenders, etc

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧

FANDOMS + FAVORITE CHARACTERS*****

Bungo Stray Dogs(Dazai, Verlaine, Fyodor and Lucy) is my main fandom and hyperfixation BUT here are some other fandoms of mine I still like

☆ = I still actively look at/take part in

♡ = not as active but I will scream abt if given the opportunity

♤ = I like it but I'm not updated with the fandom

favorite characters r not in order

-Jujusitu Kaisen(Gojo , Megumi , Itadori and Sukuna)☆

-Deadplate(Vincent) ♡

-Genshin Impact(Baizhu, Xiao, Diluc, Childe and Dottore) ☆♡

-Honkai: StarRail(Boothill, Sunday, Clara, Sparkle, Natasha and Aventurine) ☆

-Hollow Knight(Grimm and Quirrel) ♡

-Pokemon(EMMET AND INGO💥💥💥)(Also Galvantula, Reshiram, Gallipede and Eternatus) ♡

-Madness Combat(Deimos and 2BDAMNED) ♤

-Guilty Gear(Robo-Ky, Zato, Chipp, Ky and Happy Chaos) ♤

-Wuthering Waves(Scar and Lingyang) ♤

-Cookie Run(Espresso Cookie, Red Velvet Cookie and Rougefort Cookie) ♡

-RWBY(Qrow, Phyrra, Blake and Emmerald) ♡

-Project Sekai(Rui and Shizuku)♤

-Castle Crashers(Blacksmith)♤

-No Straight Roads(Neon J)♤

-The Property of Hate(RGB)♡♤

-Stardew Valley(Sebastian, Sam and Hailey)♤

-Omori(Captain Space Boyfriend, Hero and Kel)♡♤

-Howl's Moving Castle(Howl, Calcifer and Markl)♡

-Ponyo(Fujimoto)♡♤

-Punishment Gray Raven(Wanshi)♤

-Danganrompa(Kokichi , Keebo , Gonta , Nagito , Miu and Celestia)♤

theres others but those r irrelevant we dont talk abt the dark ages

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[fgfluidity]

pincera (part 6) (finale)

Summary: pincera- Latin, ‘cup-bearer, one who mixes drinks’ || He meets his songbird.

Pairings: Damien/DA, Celine/Mark, Celine/Will

Tags: Alcohol, Bootlegging, Adultery, WWI, Fights, implied Overserving, Abusive Parents, Autistic!Seer!DA

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

find it on ao3 | donate to my kofi

@opprose @statictay @volbeast @otterlyinluv @flerpdederp @hapikiou @mirrorslament (and if anyone else wants to be tagged lmk!

He met them in university, and nothing has been the same, since.

No, it wasn’t a flash of light, a singular moment of oh, everything’s different. Meeting them in the library in the early days of his university career was just that-- meeting someone new.

Granted, they were a bit quieter than most people he’s met, but they certainly made up for it. They’re a listener, the observant kind of person you can’t get much past, and the day he meets them, it’s very clear just what he’s in for.

He’s in the library at his university. It’s a lovely, quiet place, a massive room full of books and papers and archives, wings stretching out for yards like a massive bird alighted on their campus. The smallest sounds echo over the stone walls and ceilings, glide over the shining wooden floor; it being a library, everyone takes great care to remain as silent as is possible, but every now and then a mutter of a word or a whisper of breath bounces from somewhere else in the building, too quiet to make out but unmistakable all the same.

In that way, it reminds him of his home, the hard surfaces more likely to betray your presence than hold you close and safe, but the similarity ends there. Where his home holds stark monochrome from floor to ceiling, here the floors are rich brown, the walls and ceiling soft gray, with plenty of furniture almost to call it overstuffed. Desks and tables and chairs of similar polished wood, gleaming mahogany, and soft cushions in deepest green, the color of a forest in high summer.

It’s why, amidst the forest shades of the library, shelves of muted books standing tall and strong as trees, a startling flash of yellow surprises him.

It went by quickly, between the gaps in the shelves, but with his attention newly focused on it, he can make it out once it comes back: a sweater, bulky but soft, the color of sunshine. A person.

A person just coming from the political science section of the shelves, and not empty-handed.

Quickly, he moves for that section, scanning across the shelves and comparing to the piece of paper in his hands, his necessary selections written down in his neat script. Of his five choices, not a one of them remains, plucked from the shelves-- and freshly, by the gaps still left between the rest. Damn.

His mind casts back to the person he saw, a stack of books under their straining arms, too many to take at once. Too many to read at once. If by the off chance they took even one of his books, perhaps…

He turns on his heel to follow where their path might lead, but with their quick step, he’s uncertain by the end of the next section of shelves. It’s like tracking a bird through the trees, he thinks. Here but gone in a flash, with only the sharpest-- and fastest-- able to keep up, and by design at that.

This bird, however, has bright feathers, a pop of color in the muted branches.

When he comes out from the shelves, it’s into an expanse of tables and desks, various students dotted throughout. Each has books at hand, open as they jot down notes or complete homework, pencils scribbling away. A study area, then, and with his greatest hope--

Yes, there, at the far end! His bird, settling down with a stack of books-- a massive stack of books, with at least a few notebooks at hand. A nest of words made for them, and only for them.

He ought not to intrude. It wouldn’t be polite, and voices carry through the library. They seem comfortable, simply going about their day; they wouldn’t very much appreciate someone coming to bother him about their study practices.

Then again, how polite is it, really, to take more books than you could feasibly need in one study session? His interest in them isn’t just passing; he’ll need all of them, eventually, and even just one right at the moment would be nice. Why would they take all five?

They’re reading as he approaches, book propped up to conceal their face. One hand, every now and then, taps out something against the faded cover where it rests. Then, quickly as it happens, a page turns. The other four remain in their stack, waiting patiently for their turn.

Turn. They don’t need all of them at once. Once a step from the table, he clears his throat as quietly as he can manage, hoping not to disturb anyone else in the study area.

They don’t speak to him. Instead, a page in mid-transition freezes in air for a heartbeat or two, before slowly moving to settle into place. Then, before he truly realizes it, he’s the one being watched.

A pair of dark eyes, peeping over the edge of the book. It’s difficult to say how they regard him at all, at first, face unreadable as they just look, eyes darting here and there, only at his face for the briefest of moments.

It nearly feels like Celine, he thinks, unexpectedly frozen under their gaze. Watching, almost seeing into things, used to noticing. Still, it’s different to her; at the worst of times, Celine’s gaze can feel hungry, searching not to sate her curiosity but to have every last thing laid bare, knowing all for the sake of controlling and predicting outcomes.

Hers is icy. This is warm, and when he truly meets their eyes, just for a moment, he understands, too.

A bit hesitant, perhaps, nervous, but not malicious-- far from it. Mostly, it’s curiosity, and for its own sake at that. A creature of the same standing, wondering if friend or foe, and the blazing intelligence to do with that information as it will.

They have lovely eyes.

He catches himself, warm in his cheeks, and clears his throat once more before pointing to their stack of books, neatly set aside. A question he hopes they’ll understand.

Their eyes flick over on cue, and they take another second or so before nodding, using one hand to push the stack closer to him.

Smiling, grateful that his hopeful expression didn’t read as desperate, instead-- or maybe it had, he can’t say-- he takes one off the top. Before he can so much as offer his thanks, something else scoots towards him, across the table.

A notebook. Theirs, turned to a blank page, with writing across the top. It isn’t the neatest, but it’s legible enough for him to read while standing.

Sit, please. It’s easier, should you want to look at something else.

When he looks up, there’s a twinkle in their eye that stokes the heat in his face once more, though it disappears so quickly he can hardly say it was there to begin with. A chair beside him scoots forward, seemingly of its own accord, and he takes it gratefully as his new tablemate straightens up in their chair.

It’s smart to use notes, considering how voices carry, and he whips out his pencil to write his own, nudging the book back once finished.

Thank you for allowing me to borrow it. Unfortunately, I need it for my class, or I wouldn’t have troubled you.

Almost immediately, a reply comes back.

I shouldn’t have taken all of them. I suppose I’m used to biting off more than I can chew. I apologize.

Well, you gave it back, and allowed me to join, so I see no reason to condemn you. I’m Damien.

I know who you are.

He blinks up at them, surprised. He doesn’t exactly try to be much of anyone on campus, let alone a notable name. Perhaps he isn’t as successful as he imagined.

You do?

Yes. You’re the mayor’s son. A legacy. People talk about you often.

Ugh. As he should have guessed, his father’s shadow overtakes him. He sighs and returns pencil to page.

I wish they wouldn’t. I don’t particularly care for being a legacy. I can’t imagine what others have to say is the most kind.

Not always, no. People equate you to him.

Is that why you hesitated?

I wanted to see for myself who you are. You aren’t like him.

You just met me, how could you know that?

In his periphery, he just catches the slight upturn of their mouth.

Well, for one, you don’t want to be. Besides, Damien, I see things about people. I wouldn’t have offered for you to sit if I saw anything bad.

See?

Notice. I get feelings, but I mostly just pay attention. You can know all you need to just by watching and listening.

Also, I sit behind you in class. You’re smarter than he could ever be.

He barks a laugh before he can stop it, and they’re both asked to either be quiet or leave. Their own laughter, warm but quiet giggles, solidifies their decision to leave, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

He learns their name, their major, their preferences. They like to sit out on the quad in the last of the warm September sunshine, sunning like a cat in the grass. They like to drink tea with their pastries and tease him over his black coffee without a single grain of sugar. They like to read and write and debate him over nothing, eyes shining when he grins over the challenge.

Mostly, they like to sit and watch.

In the dining hall, in the library, in the quad. In the local diner and the park. They sit and just take it all in, dark, curious eyes tracking the people around them.

They aren’t a gossip. They don’t tell him anything he couldn’t have guessed on his own, snippets of conversation he, himself, heard; still, he knows they hear and see more than they let on.

They only have a few favorite places to take a lunch, mostly because each has plenty of options his friend is actually capable of eating. It’s a solemn decision, one that neither of them take lightly, and a deviation from a choice can spell a ruined afternoon at the very least-- they don’t handle changes in plans very well.

Still, one very stormy day, they change course to the diner instead of the cafe, and not five yards away do they hear a crash. A branch, caught up by the wind, knocked through the front window.

They eye him another time before handing over their handkerchief. “Keep it,” they insist, eyes quite serious, and so he pockets it. What else could he do? At the very least, it will assuage his friend’s worries for him to keep it a day or so.

The next day, he can’t stop sneezing, feverish yet chilled. It’s difficult to rise from his bed, limbs aching and weak. He sleeps through most of it, and that handkerchief on his bedside table is a godsend when he can’t make it to his drawer for a fresh one.

Damien’s normally very good at keeping up with his coursework, but between his family and his other classes, a paper falls to the wayside. As he sits over it by candlelight in his dorm, the deadline of eight o’clock looming, his friend puts a hand on his shoulder. “You have time,” they say, eyes too dark in the golden light. “No need to rush.”

He has less than twelve hours to complete five pages, and while their belief in his abilities is quite flattering, he just shakes his head. The next morning, however, his professor pushes the due date to the following week, rushing out in a hurry past the messenger-- he can’t very well miss his child being born for a few papers to grade.

They know things before he ever could, and he can’t say it’s just good guesswork, just observation, not when he knows what Celine can do if she really wants to. He doesn’t mention it to them, unsure if they even think it’s something preternatural, but he does wonder.

Whether or not it’s a gift beyond humanity’s capabilities, he finds himself copying their methods. Listening, watching, waiting before he speaks or comes to a conclusion. It doesn’t come quite so easily-- he’s unfortunately inherited a bit of a temper, growing up so with Celine and his father-- but it does a decent amount in tempering his impulses.

It comes in quite handy at their first college party.

Damien’s partaken of alcohol before, though not to excess; his friend, on the other hand, looks to the sea of bottles with fascination, though little temptation. “Should I?” They ask over the crash of voices, wincing a bit and covering their ears as a portion rises in a cheer. “I haven’t-- but that’s what college parties are known for, right?”

“If you want to.” He shrugs, looking over the array. Strong stuff, befitting the raucous nature of the party. “I’d start small, though. It doesn’t taste good-- maybe some with that mix over there?”

It looks similar to Celine’s drink, the last time he saw her-- cloudy citrus with the sharp sting of alcohol-- but it isn’t frosty, and the scent of clover comes from it, honey swirled in the mix.

His friend seems to enjoy it well enough, a smile on their lips after their first tentative sip, and he thinks nothing more of it. It’s a party, and he tries to have fun.

For the most part, he succeeds, properly speaking to other people his age about topics that aren’t politics, for once, hopefully proving the ones who find him a carbon copy of his father wrong. He partakes of his own drinks, though few enough to leave a simple, pleasant warmth in his stomach; there’s no need to overindulge.

Maybe it’s his own intuition, or perhaps a touch of some gift he can’t explain, or even simple concern for his friend, but he goes to find them the moment the urge hits him, something twisting in his gut. He must find them, and soon, but where in the whole sea of bodies could they be?

He takes a breath, and looks, and listens.

Whispers about someone drinking too much. Snickers about lightweights, eyes cutting toward the back of the party.

People give away everything when they aren’t paying attention.

Surely, he finds them on a couch towards the back. Their posture is too relaxed, the tapping movements of their fingers too languid and clumsy on the cushions. When he comes around to their front, noting another empty cup in hand, their eyes are glassy, distant. It takes them some time to properly focus their eyes to look at him, and when they do, they give him a smile-- big, not like their small, secretive one.

“Damien!”

Oh, yes, they’re drunk. Quite drunk. He sighs, though his irritation can’t override his fondness. “I imagine you’ve had a few too many, my friend.”

“They were… quite good,” they confess, attempting and failing to sit up properly. “I didn’t think… I think they put in a lot. On accident.”

“Perhaps.” He cuts his eyes back to those students serving drinks. Not a one of them looks back in their direction, but something tells him that’s less due to their responsibilities and more due to avoiding them. As is best, really-- if he finds out who... “You need to get home. Can you walk?”

They can, but only with one of his arms around their waist to keep them upright and stable. He steadfastly ignores any looks or whispers as they step out into the November night.

It’s cold. Not freezing, but cold, and it seems to sharpen his friend up a bit. “Brr. Uh… I’m sorry I… had so many. That we have to go.”

“That’s alright,” he assures them, and it is. “I was about finished. I can only take so much social interaction for one evening.”

“Rich coming from the future mayor,” they laugh, swaying further into his side, though whether it’s out of intoxication, warmth, or humor, he can’t say. It warms him all the same. “But… not for long. You will be, but then… he’ll...”

They stop suddenly, almost pulling him off-balance, and when he looks down, there’s a vague horror in their eyes. Distance that isn’t from alcohol, but in the way they get when… when they know something.

He swallows hard against rising dread, the warmth placed by a chill too deep to be the air around them. “My friend? What is it?”

“You…” They swallow, too, then: “The grass, quick!”

He winds up holding them up, out of their own sick, looking away lest the sight bring up his sick, and rubbing their back. “Thanks for the warning. Are you alright?”

“Uh-huh.” They spit and groan, leaning back on their heels for a moment. “I think… that got it out of me. Thanks.”

“It’s no trouble. Let’s get you home-- I’d rather the wrath of your mother seeing you drunk than the wrath of her for letting you freeze.”

Whatever they saw, whatever they were about to say before they were sick across the frosty grass, haunts him, though. It haunts him, until one day it’s tucked into the back of his mind, and then it’s too late to be of any help at all.

--------

Bee’s Knees

--

50ml/2oz gin

20ml/1oz honey syrup

10ml/2 barspoons lemon juice

lemon peel, to garnish

Add all ingredients to a shaker with ice and shake until well-chilled. Strain into chilled cocktail glass and garnish.

Simple and even nondescript at a glance, but with more depth than expected. Sweet, only a bit tart, and floral-- like spring sunshine.

And then…

They grow up.

And then…

They grow apart.

And then…

They have a party.

And then…

Everything changes. Forever.

[danopdf]

The Cutting Edge [Joe Liebgott/David Webster] - chapter 2

chapter 2 - toe-pick

pairing: joseph liebgott x david webster, [hockey player x figure skater au]

The Cutting Edge (1992 film) Rewrite

word count: 3574

summary: David's coaches introduce him to his new partner, turns out, they have their work cut out for them.

warnings: swearing, mild injury nothing graphic at all, some angst

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a/n: chapter 2 is here! I have been working on this and a BoB x MotA crossover so hopefully that should be out soon! I hope the tag list works and please lmk if it doesn't, or if you'd like to be tagged! <3

Enjoy!! :D

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Phillidealpha - 1991

“Alright, I’ll see you guys on Monday.” Joe waved, making his way towards the awaiting beat-up pickup truck. A chorus of “Bye Joe”’s and “See ya man.”’s following behind him.

Joe tossed his raggedy hockey back into the back bed of the truck and hopped in the passenger side, placing his cooler lunch box at his feet, and his hard hat on his lap.

“So, how was school today?” George asked. Joe didn’t have to look over to see the shit-eating grin on the dirty-blond face.

“It was fine mom, can you just drive, there’s a game across town tonight I gotta get ready for,” Joe said impatiently. George threw the truck into drive and began to pull out of the steelworks parking lot.

It was silent on the drive back to the bar George and his partner Joe Toye owned together just the sound of the radio playing some new rock hit softly in the background, as the truck pulled into the parking lot of ‘Easy Company’ the fair sized bar, sitting just off a popular backroad near the city was frequented mostly by the nearby factory workers, and people who come to watch the hockey games on Friday and Saturday nights. The bar itself was in a mild state of disrepair but well-loved by both the locals and the bar workers alike, it may have been slightly run-down but for Toye and George it was a labour of love, practically their second child after that old dog they had adopted together.

Joe hopped out of the truck the second it had stopped, rushing around to the backbed to grab his bag, hauling it over his shoulder. Practically running into the bar, not bothering to hold the door for George, who nearly got clipped by it.

 “Joe hey, listen, Gene called in. He got a shift at the hospital so we need you to cover tonight.” Toye greeted from behind the counter, hauling the glass rack full of beer mugs up onto the freshly washed counter.

“Can’t. Got a game tonight- Hey Muck, make me a sandwich! Any mail for me?” Joe yelled into the kitchen.

“Joe, it’s a Friday night, we need you here, and Muck! Don’t make him that sandwich he’s not going anywhere, he can make it himself!” Toye hollered through the small window separating the bar from the kitchen in the back. Skip hadn’t moved from his place on the counter too enthralled with whatever book he was reading, just sticking his thumb in the air to acknowledge the command Toye gave him.

“I can’t Toye, the guys need me out there.”

“And we need you here! Babe’s still coming in, and Donny said he could come in from 9 ‘till close, but we need someone to do the in-between.” Toye slammed the mug he was holding down onto the counter, pointing at Joe, clean bar towel in hand, “Joe, when you moved here 2 years ago we said that as long as you helped us when we needed, we would shuttle your ass to any hockey game you wanted. Now is the time for you to nut up and help us.”

Joe scoffed, pulling his hand back from the back door he was about to walk through.

“Why can’t you call Bill, see if he’ll pick it up? He’s usually hanging around here with you guys anyways, might as well put him to work.” He sneered, pushing his way through the back door, to the staff entrance, his bettered hockey sticks leaning against the wall next to the array of lockers, each with a staff member's name on it, some with stickers adorning the outside (like his own, covered in hockey team logos), or photos of family and friends (like Babe’ was, covered in photos of him and Gene).

“Joe,” George pushed through the door, hot on his heels, “Come on we never ask you to come in on Fridays unless we need you. And we need you tonight, this place is gonna be packed-”

“I can’t George you know I can’t. We’re playing our rivals tonight and I can’t leave the boys hanging-”

“So you’re gonna leave us hanging?” George pointed him with a glare.

Joe sighed, leaning his head against the cool metal of his locker.

“George. I heard from one of the guys that there may be a scout coming to the game tonight. They’re down a few bench-men on the US team for the next winter games, and they wanna see if I still have it.”

“Did they say that?”

Joe turned his head to face George, “Did they say what?”

“Did they say that they were coming to look at you?”

He closed his eyes, “No. They’re coming to look at the new kid that’s been playing with us-”

“Shit Joe I’m sor-”

Joe shot up straight, “But George, if I can just show them how far I’ve come,”

“Joe don’t-”

“Then maybe they’ll let me even just be a benchwarmer for practice, which is the first step to getting back on a team. A proper team.”

“Joe! You got a letter from the Flyers,” Joe’s eyes lit up with hope, his heart began beating,

Oh my god, they saw it. They’re gonna put me on the team! This is the start of a new career, a brand new start for Joe Lieb-

 “They saw your tape and they don’t think you’re ready yet.” George ripped the bandaid off in one fell swoop, his head turned downwards to avoid the sagging gaze of Joe.

He froze at the news, brain trying to process his future once again falling through his fingers like sand. Joe sagged, fingers going numb, his sticks slipping through his grasp.

“Oh.” 

George dragged Joe into a hug, squeezing him tightly. His fingers gripping Joe’s jacket when he didn’t hug him back, he just stood there looking dead over George’s shoulder, “Well…there goes that I guess.” He whispered to himself.

George pulled back from Joe, a sad smile on his face, “But hey listen, on the bright side of things, a man came in today looking for you. By name.” Joe perked up at that, “Said he was looking for a man that could skate, and that there’s a paycheck involved, a pretty hefty one apparently.” Joe turned back to his locker, put his sticks back, and began to change out of his work clothes.

“That’s great George, but if it’s not hockey, I’m not interested.” He shrugged off his jacket, quickly wiping his eyes as he did so, hoping George didn’t notice.

“Joe buddy,” George leaned against the side of Joe’s locker, “we can’t make you do something you don’t wanna do. But we also can’t stand by and watch you put yourself through the wringer every time a letter comes in with your name on it, hoping that this time it’s something good.”

Joe paused halfway through slipping on his clean jacket, “If this is your way to ask me to work for you full time you know the answers gonna be no, right?” he chuckled wetly, George laughed with him.

“I know buddy. That guy was hoping that you’d go by tonight and see what he’s offering…I’m sure I can convince the owners to give you the night off for this, a real job offer.”

Joe huffed, fixed his dark hair in the mirror he had pasted to the side of his locker door, wiped his cheeks, and turned back to his friend, “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

David locked eyes with himself in the wall of mirrors as he skated along the edge of the rink. Watching his posture, he lifted his back leg and spread his arms out, one in front and one behind his perfectly straight torso.

David lowered his leg and went into a gentle spin, twirling thrice before coming to a stop.

“Looking good David!” The brunet coach hollered from the side of the rink. David pushed forward skating close enough to the mirrors that he could look at himself properly, he began to fix the curls of his hair and wipe at his cheeks, clearing his face of any sweat that had beaded there with the cuff of his white knitted sweater.

“-last one only lasted just over a month,” The door to the private rink swung open revealing David’s second coach. The redhead guided an unknown man through the doors and walked over to where the first was standing at the side. He pushed off his right foot and hustled his way over to the small group forming on the sideline.

“and before that it was three weeks-” David hockey stopped right in front of the new man, spraying small shards of ice onto his jeans.

“Two and a half weeks actually.” He looked the black-haired man up and down, taking in the slim figure in a worn flannel + jacket combo, jeans, and a backward cap, “He couldn’t keep up.” David sneered at the new man.

“Joe Liebgott, this is my co-coach Lewis Nixon. And this,” He gestured grandly to David, “is your skating partner David Webster.” David’s jaw dropped.

“Him?” David pointed out, “Are we picking homeless people up off the streets now for me to skate with? He looks like he’s never even seen a pair of skates before!” He complained to Winters.

“David, Joe is a hockey player, he’s got the skating prowess and physical strength that we’re looking for.” The redhead explained matter-of-factly.

“A hockey player!?” David screeched, “You’re kidding, Nix’ please tell me he’s kidding!” He turned towards his other coach, who stood from his bent-over position on the rail.

“David we know this isn’t ideal, but he’s got what we’re looking for and he’s an ex-Olympian so he knows his way around a competition. So, you can either suck it up and figure out how to work with him like an adult or you can keep skating here, alone in despair. It’s up to you David.” Nixon crossed his arms, a small smirk already on his face, knowing he had David, who let out a grumble and leaned down to tighten his pristine skates.

“Fine then,” he straightened up, flipping his curls back, “but if he can’t keep up he’s gone.” Joe chucked at that.

“Don't worry your pretty little head princess, I can keep up.” He stepped out onto the ice in his dirty sneakers, a hockey bag on his shoulder.

“David, this is Joe, Joe Liebgott, please play nice.” Winters introduced him, Joe sticking his hand out to David, who skated back slightly at the sight of his raised hand, “What, don’t want to shake my hand? They may be a little rough, but I’ve never had any complaints before.” He winked.

“Real nice. What is this, are you trying to ruin what career I have left?” David asked, offended.

“Hey, hey, hey wait a second, who's checking out who here?” Joe took his hand back, using it instead to adjust the strap on his shoulder.

“Listen, I don’t know how many slap shots you’ve taken to the brain but this is your audition and I can assure you it’s over. I’m not skating with this buffoon.” Joe looked startled at the mention of ‘slapshots to the brain’, something only Nixon had noticed

“Listen, I’m not a figure skater, I’m a hockey player, alright?” He defended.

“Then why are you here?” David skated right up in Joe’s face, staring him in the eyes,

He’s got nice eyes. Shut up, David. “Get him out of my building.” He turned towards Dick and Lewis, who were watching in both exhaustion and amusement respectively. Lewis chuckled at the duo, Dick just sighed, and Lewis reached over to pat his partner on the shoulder.

“Temperamental, they told me that’s what you were and they’re right. There’s another word for that you know!” Joe yelled.

“Who told you that?” David demanded.

“It’s no secret honey, everybody knows it!” Joe turned back to Lewis and Dick, stepping off the ice onto the rubber sideline, “Listen, sirs, I’m real’ sorry, but I wouldn’t wish this on my goddamn worst enemy alright?” Joe patted Nixon on the shoulder and began to make his way out the door he and Dick had walked through not even 10 minutes ago, David skating in the opposite direction of the door.

Dick put a hand on Joe’s shoulder, giving Lewis a look.

“Alright, both of you stop it.” Lewis hollered, the slight echo in the at-home area causing his voice to echo, “David, you’re a duo skater. Duo means two.” He held up two fingers at that, “And you haven’t been able to keep a partner for more than a month, and even then all you did is complain. You’re skating nowhere but in circles, hoping that a partner will just come along and fall into your lap, which they won’t if you keep your shitty attitude up.” David looked down, suddenly finding digging a small ditch with his toepick much more interesting than looking Lewis in the eyes. Joe snickered at the sight of David looking like a kicked puppy, “and you,” Lewis turned to Joe now, who shut up immediately at the parental tone Nixon took with him, “you’re not going anywhere alright? You’re excited every time you get on the ice at your beer league games, or get the chance to skate on the lake, and here we are giving you another chance at an Olympic medal and you're just going to walk away from it? No. You’re going to sit down and lace up because we’re the only people who are looking at you for a skating career.” Lewis finished, chest heaving and hands on his hips. Dick looked down, bringing a hand up to his face, but not in shame like Joe and David were, but to cover the silent laughter he was trying to cover up, at the sight of his partner parenting the two grown men. “So. Joe you’re going to drop your bag, put on the skates Dick gave you and you’re going to get on that ice.” Joe dropped his bag right where he stood with a huff, “And David you’re going to not be an asshole for 10 minutes and we’re going to run through the basics. Understood?” Nix’ raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Understood.”

“Yeah sure Nix’.” Joe and David grumbled respectively. Realizing that they were both beaten and now stuck with each other.

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“Alright good, now Joe your left hand goes on his waist, and your right comes up to hold his right one outstretched. Get a little closer Joe, don’t worry David won’t bite.” Dick’s hands placed Joe’ where they needed to rest on David’s body, and gently pushed Joe closer so his chest was pressed against the left side of David's back. One of his hands coming up to hold onto his slim waist, the other sliding along David's arm to grab a hold of his hand, “Perfect Joe. Now on my count you’re going to push off your left foot, and go for a lap around the ice, sounds good?” the redhead asked.

Joe nodded his head, hair bouncing off his wrinkled forehead, brows knit in focus.

“Sounds great Winters, let’s just get this over with.” David forced out.

“Wait, wait, hold on a second.” Joe interrupted, “What is this thing on the front of my skate?” He lifted his left foot slightly, showing off the rigged point of the blade.

“That’s the toepick Joe. I wouldn’t let it get in your way.” David teased, unamused at the stupid question Joe had asked.

He leaned down close to David's ear, whispering “I don’t let anything get in my way sweetheart.” David straightened up against Joe’s chest, his neck tingling from where his breath fanned.

“Ok you two, let’s go on, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4!” On the four David and Joe pushed off their left feet in long strides, putting pressure on their left feet to make a graceful turn at the top of the ice, “Great! That looks great you two!” Dick called out from his place on the ice, Lewis in his skates on the side where he was earlier, clapping at the sight of the two skating in unison.

After the graceful turn at the top of the rink, they got to the straight away. David picked up his pace, taking quicker, shorter strides, slowly leaving Joe behind, struggling to catch up to the brunet's pace while keeping a hold of his waist and hand.

“Hey buddy, slow down man we’re supposed to be keeping pace!” Joe huffed, legs moving twice as fast to try and catch up to the brunet's quick strides.

“If you want us to keep pace then keep up!” David turned his head to Joe, taking a few more strides, and effectively leaving Joe behind enough that his grip on David’s waist and hand had him stretching forwards, fingertips barely hanging on, he began to stumble forwards, toepicks catching on the ice ahead of him, causing Joe to go tumbling forwards and crashing onto the ice with a loud SMACK!

“Jesus Christ David! Could you try not to kill the guy on his first day!” Lewis cried out. Dick rushed over to help Joe back on his feet, asking if he’s okay, as Joe brushed bits of ice off his shirt.

“I’m alright, I’m alright. He hits softer than my younger sister, and a tumble on the ice ain’t nothin’ new to me.” Joe turned to David, who was glaring at him from his place at Lewis’ side where he was getting berated by the black-haired man, giving David a smile at the sight of his misfortune.

Dick gave Joe one more once over, “David get over here!” He hollered. David skated over, using the toepick at the top of his skate to stop himself once he got close enough, “David apologize to Joe.”

“What!”

“Huh?”

Dick looked at David expectantly, hands on the hips of his slim black skate pants, “You heard me, apologise to Joe.” David looked at him appalled, whilst Joe had a shit-eating grin on his face at him getting chastised by the ginger.

“Joe,” David gritted out, “I’m sorry that you couldn’t keep up with m- OW!” Winters slapped David's arm giving him a glare, “Joe, I’m sorry, that I on purpose and with malicious intent went faster than I knew you could keep up with so that you would fall.” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding Joe's smug face.

“Good, thank you, David. Let’s head back to one and go again.”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

Joe picked his head up at the sound of the beat-up old truck pulling up into the gated driveway of the mansion.

“Going my way?” George peaked his head out the passenger's window.

“If you’re heading to your mom's house then yeah.” Joe joked, standing from his place on the front steps of the large house, he jogged up to the passenger's side, tossing his hockey bag in the backseat and slamming the door.

“Shut up Joe, you look like you’re waiting for your divorced dad to pick you up.” Joe barked out a laugh as he slid on his seatbelt. George shifted out of park and booted out of the fancy driveway.

“So, how was it? You found a new calling in the world of figure skating?” George joked. Joe looked out the window, watching the trees and occasional lit-up mansion pass by his window.

“Yeah, I think so…”

“You don’t sound so sure of that, what’s up?” Joe sighed, running a hand through his wavy hair.

“He’s an asshole, is the issue. Never had to work a day in his life, has been living off of daddy’s money- did you know the rink is attached to the house? It’s not even in the backyard, it's in its own wing of the house!” Joe had started waving his arms around the cabin of the truck at this point, George trying his best to avoid getting smacked by the flailing limbs whilst trying to drive, “and he spent the whole time trying to get rid of me!” Joe took a heaving breath, sitting back properly in his seat, “but I mean other than that, yeah it was great. Dad’s a bit of a wack-a-doodle but he’s the one paying me, so him I can deal with.”

George looked over at him before quickly turning his eyes back to the road, “Well that’s not so bad I suppose. What about the coaches? Are they as big of assholes as your new partner is?” Joe placed his feet up on the dash, which George immediately batted off, “Get your feet off the dash you fucking hooligan.”

Joe crossed his legs at the ankles instead, “Yeah they’re alright, they’re some ex-figure skaters that are married on the side or something, I don’t know man. Talented though that’s for sure, they would demonstrate some of the moves they wanted us to do and it was impressive. I like ‘em.” Joe smiled to himself, finding picking the dirt from under his nails more interesting than looking at the smile George was giving him.

“So same bad time, same bad channel tomorrow then?”

“Yup, tomorrow and, if the paychecks hopefully keep rolling in the way they are now, every day after that.”

– – – – – – – – – – – –

taglist: @hanniewinnix @ewipandora@grumpy-liebgott

[lifeofpriya]

My Moon - Morgan Frost imagine

[gif credit goes to @phillyjoel]

song of the fic: Channa Mereya by Arijit Singh

should i write a pt 2 to this? lmk

translated lyrics are here

"And you may now kiss your husband..."

Morgan felt his heart drop to his stomach as he watched you kiss your newlywed husband. He quietly observed from the sidelines; watching you and your spouse exchange bright smiles at each other.

Your eyes slightly flickered towards the crowd, the once bright smile on your face soon dissipated into a deep frown when they landed on a familiar face: Morgan.

Morgan's lips were pressed into a line as he tightly smiled at you, he clapped along with the rest of the guests with tears pooling in his eyes. You could tell they weren't tears of happiness, but rather, tears of dread and resignation.

You then watched as he let out a long, low sigh and wiped the tears away from his face before turning around and headed towards the exit.

You were soon interrupted from your rushing thoughts by the sound of Dylan's voice. "Is everything alright, Y/N?"

Instinctively, you slowly nodded your head and flashed a small smile at your husband. "Yeah, I just had something in my eye," you made up an excuse as your hand flew up to your eyes. You didn't want to tell him about the real reason why your mood suddenly shifted. "But I think I got it out now..."

You could hear your voice drag on as you spoke. The somber look on Morgan's face couldn't escape from your mind; it haunted you.

"Anyways, I think we should go get the photos taken by now..." Dylan's voice sounded drowned out to you at this point, you couldn't be bothered to listen to him, so you simply nodded along to what he said.

\\\

Morgan peeked down at his phone as it let out a 'ding' sound.

Snapchat: Check out this memory from 3 years ago!

Letting out a sigh, he clicked on the notification, which took him to the app. When he got onto the Snapchat app, he was met with an old photo of him and you merrily smiling with the faint skyline of Toronto in the background; you were hanging onto him for dear life as he gave you a piggyback ride.

"Old love, huh?" Morgan was soon brought back to reality by a slightly gruff but warm voice. He shifted in his seat and soon was face-to-face with a man whom he assumed was in his late 50s-early 60s.

The Canadian tentatively nodded his head in response to the mysterious man's question. "Yeah, they were the love of my life..."

The mysterious man then quirked an eyebrow at Morgan, "...but?"

"They got married to someone else," Morgan let out a breathless whisper and tucked his phone back into his suit jacket. "I just came back from the ceremony."

The mysterious man slightly nodded his head; a light frown was etched onto his lips as he glanced at the young man in front of him. "Well, there's this old saying," he cleared his throat before continuing to speak, "if you love someone, set them free..."

"But isn't that a bad thing?"

"Wait, I wasn't finished yet, son," the mysterious man dryly chuckled at Morgan. "If they come back, they're yours; if they don't, they never were."

"What are you trying to get at here?"

"Love isn't as black and white as fairy tales make it seem to be...sometimes, love involves sacrifices; a sacrifice like showing the person you love them so much that you put their happiness before your own..."

The mysterious stranger then took a sip of his whiskey in between his breaths, "It takes a strong person to forgive someone that left them and then wants to come back. Son, what I'm trying to say is: if you had the chance of having that person in your life forever, is the reward of that worth the risk?"

\\\

tag list: @2manytabsopen, @jackhues

[scuderlia]

thanks for the tag jo @liamlawsonlesbian <3

star sign: aries sun, capricorn moon, virgo rising. being chill and normal was never an option.

favorite holiday: probably Halloween 💀 as someone who loves horror and is a recovering theatre kid, it's perfect. plus, i'm gay.

last meal: three twizzlers & a litre of ginger kombucha

current favorite musician: i've been listening to a lot of Wolf Alice and SASAMI recently.

last song listened to: 'No Girl So Sweet' (PJ Harvey)

(a tangent... but if any of my mutuals want to stalk each other on Spotify pls lmk...)

last movie watched: Talk to Me (2023) dir. Danny & Michael Philippou. i watched it on my flight and it was honestly a lot better than i anticipated. even though gore isn't typically my favourite, i was pleasantly surprised by how they managed to integrate it into a possession film. loved the grief-driven storylines, and the characters charmed me. rating: ☆☆☆☆

last tv show watched: Betty (HBO) !!! i have debilitating crushes on everyone from Skate Kitchen.

last book finished: Empire of Wild by Cherie Dimaline. it was assigned in one of my first year uni courses and i sped through it without really taking the time to read it properly. now that i have it's been rotting my brain non-stop. her use of simile is insane.

i also recently finished An Anthropologist on Mars by Oliver Sacks. one of my all-time favourite authors and academics, would highly recommend this as a foray into 'medical' non-fiction.

last book abandoned: i don't think i've ever abandoned a book in my life, but i recently had to choke down this technical document about building codes that i can't be bothered to remember the title of.

edit: just remembered the absolute chore that was reading Outlawed by Anna North. i feel cheated and lied to by the cover because i love the cover, but the book is honestly unbelievably boring. i’m tired of the evangelical horse girl narrators, i had enough of those where i grew up. i did finish this because i hate quitting, but it tested my patience and made me feel like pulling my hair out.

currently reading: Milk Fed by Melissa Broder (for like the third time). this book is sooo weird and kind of gross, in the best way. it's definitely not going to appease everyone but i have a sick fascination with it and keep coming back. i've also been having a love affair with the cover design for a while now.

last thing researched for writing/art/hyperfixation: common apartment floorplans in Italy (if anyone has this info, hmu). i'm also in an internet sinkhole of background on the 2024 F2 grid and their respective karting histories.

favorite online fandom memory: when i was 15 i had public beef with a bunch of conservatives in a politician's comment section over pipelines and green policy and then said politician blocked me on every platform. this wouldn't be fandom related if not for the fact that i used my fan account to do all of this, so [redacted] had to search my cringe username multiple times... like omg are you a fan?

favorite old fandom you wish would drag you back in/have a resurgence: the euphoria that i felt being a part of the haikyuu fandom during quarantine will never be replicated, but i think about it every day.

favorite thing you enjoy that never had an active or big fandom, but you wish it did: i'm really into the original, morbid Grimm fairytales and wish that someone would produce a proper remake of Cinderella already. let the doves pick out the step sisters' eyes, cowards.

tempting project you don't have time for: this is a trick question because i always give into temptation regardless of whether i have time for it or not. i really want to do a series of deep-dive posts about track design and the 'architects' of f1... i've been fixated on it for a while now and haven't seen a lot of discussion about it, plus it seems like it would be fun to put all the research together :)

~ all the people i would tag have already posted, but pls do it if you'd like!