#sorry if this didn’t really help🥲

[mjtheartist04]

*Kicks down door* HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD AT DRAWING KISSES?! TEACH ME YOUR WAYS SENPAI!

(Maybe I want to practice drawing my girl Hailey kissing a certain blue-masked turtle…)

TBH GIRL IDEK EVEN KNOW HOW I DID IT MYSELF-😭

I just recommend looking up, References! This is the one I kinda used as reference for that Mistletoe drawing✨

There is many references out there! Just find whatever’s easiest and just happily practice! I always go on Pinterest for refs💕

[sungwanns]

what we could’ve had with spencer and jj blah blah blah ELLE what we could’ve had with spencer and ELLE !! THATS what we should be mourning

[fastandcarlos]

On The Mend : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: with your lack of presence in the paddock, fans are starting to worry, little do they know that you happen to be a little broken back at home

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 849,183 others

oscarpiastri: another successful week of racing, super proud of the whole team to get the car all the way to P2 this weekend 🏆🏎️

35,058 comments

username1: congratulations oscar, such an awesome drive!!

username2: just a shame that yn wasn’t there to see it once again 🙄

landonorris: so proud of you osc 😭😭😭

username3: surely they can’t still be together, she hasn’t shown her face in weeks…

charles_leclerc: mum is very proud that the two of us were on the podium btw

oscarpiastri: @/charles_leclerc it was all thanks to her pep talk ofc

username4: we’ll still support you osc even if yn won’t

mclaren: the whole team is so proud of you, congratulations oscar!

username5: enjoy the celebrations, I’m sure the team will be there for you at least 🥲

danielricciardo: congrats brother, always nice to see you repping for down under

username6: either something must be seriously wrong or yn really just doesn’t care anymore 😭

maxverstappen1: hell of a drive from you, great to see you back where you belong!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two private stories

replies

georgerussell63: thanks for reminding everyone I got a penalty yn 😂😂

oscarpiastri: make sure you’re resting, you don’t need to worry about the race sweetheart!!

ynusername: I’ve never missed a race of yours 😩

danielricciardo: why tf are you in hospital and why didn’t you tell me immediately so that I could help!!

nicolepiastri: sending you lots of love sweetheart, sorry we can’t be there to help you 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

oscarpiastri: I promise to sneak you in loads of snacks as soon as I’m there 💞

lilymhe: I miss you so much, hope you’re recovering well girlie

landonorris: he’s on the first flight outta here straight back to you 🧡

carmenmmundt: sending you all the healing vibes in the world ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, logansargeant and 812,948 others

oscarpiastri: wish me luck on the flight, some weird passenger keeps looking over their shoulder at me 👀

36,950 comments

username7: that poor pilot having to drive these two home lmao

danielricciardo: now you get to experience my struggle before you came along 😭

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo idk how you ever did it 🤦🏻

username8: at least oscar has lando to celebrate with even though others have abandoned him

alex_albon: why else do you think we offered to take you home on our plane instead?! 😂

username9: i wonder if he's going home to yn being there or not

charles_leclerc: you're incredibly brave volunteering to travel home with him 👏🏻

username10: yn should be there with him, i really hope that they're okay

username11: what would we do without these two in our lives!?

maxverstappen1: we tried to talk you out of it but you didn't listen 🤷🏻

username 12: i love how all the boys are exposing lando as a terrible travel partner hahah

landonorris: stop trying to make it sound like we're not bffs osc 💔

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris that's because we're definitely not best friends

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 793,722 others

oscarpiastri: seeing as some people want to make it their business, we thought we’d share why yn hasn’t been around recently. a couple of weeks ago she had a nasty fall at home which resulted in a broken leg. yesterday I finally got to bring her home and begin helping her with recovery…just call me doctor piastri from now on 🧑🏻‍⚕️💞

57,492 comments

username13: i hope all you losers who thought they broke up are proud of yourselves 🙄

landonorris: you guys know where i am if you need anything!!

georgerussel63: we love you yn, make sure you get plenty of rest ❤️❤️❤️

username14: sending you so much love yn, get plenty of rest

ynusername: apologies in advance for the lack of sleep you're about to get because of me 😂

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername as long as you're healing idc 🥹

username15: can't believe some of you were so stupid to ever think they'd actually break up

alex_albon: glad to see you're back at home where you belong yn

danielricciardo: do i even want to ask how she managed to break her leg??

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo if I told you I don't think you'd believe me 😂

username16: poor oscar looks exhausted having to drive and take care of yn too

charles_leclerc: pls tell me I get to sign the cast ✍️

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i'll save a spot just for you

username17: please make sure you take care of yourself yn and ignore what everyone has to say

carmenmmundt: sending you so many healing vibes yn, we miss you at the paddock

username18: during a time when they need privacy and instead they've been hounded by nosey idiots 🤦🏻

maxverstappen1: can't wait to see all the doctor piastri content from you! 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 682,058 others

oscarpiastri: the only way to get her out of the house atm is to bribe her with coffee ☕️

63,957 comments

username19: it's adorable how much oscar cares about her 🥰

lilymhe: tell her im omw with coffee as we speak to get her out again!

username20: it's so good to see yn back up on her feet and moving around again 🤩

alex_albon: i actually forgot what yn looked like stood upright for a moment

username21: why does it feel like oscar is one of those partners who is constantly checking on her making sure she's doing her exercises and following every single bit of advice

maxverstappen1: yn's injury is really making you look like the doting boyfriend rn ❤️

danielricciardo: if yn ever gets bored of being entertained on a walk by you, you know where i am!

username22: i bet yn can't wait for race weekend again to get rid of the nagging doctor 😂

landonorris: wish you looked after me as well as you look after yn

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris just a shame that we're not dating then really huh?!

username23: anyone else noticed how many drivers have been round this week to take yn out and make sure she's staying active too

username24: @/username23 i think she might just be the most popular wag on the grid

ynusername: i hate you but i love you at the same time these days 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername if the doctor says you keep moving, it's my job to make you move 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, carmenmmundt and 59,491 others

ynusername: I always knew oscar was secretly boyfriend coded but damn having him look after me is making me fancy him all over again 🔥

12,056 comments

username25: i think i might've just fallen in love with him all over again too 😍

alexandrasaintmleux: make the most of all of the attention you're getting girl

ynusername: @/alexandrasaintmleux oh I am, he doesn't let me lift a finger 😘

username26: soft, doctor boyfriend oscar might just be my new favourite thing

charles_leclerc: if i see many more of these posts from you i might just need a sick bucket 🤮

username27: yn you really are the luckiest having this guy in your life

carlossainz55: i always knew he was a softie deep down 🥺

oscarpiastri: you know i'd do anything as long as it meant getting you better again

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you're an angel in disguise i swear

username28: i'd break my leg too if it meant oscar piastri was there to look after me 😂

username29: it melts my heart to see how caring oscar has been over the past few weeks

danielricciardo: even i found myself getting a bit excited when i saw these photos yn

username30: everyone needs an oscar piastri in their life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

ynusername posted two stories

replies

landonorris: you're ruining oscar's image with every post you share these days 😂

oscarpiastri: there's nowhere else that I'd rather be

ynusername: we'll pretend you didn't complain that it wasn't race weekend first thing this morning shall we???

carmenmmundt: hope it's good news, lemme know how you get on!!

alex_albon: praying for you and hoping that it's the beginning of the end now 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

danielricciardo: thinking of you guys, tell the doctor if he doesn't give you good news i'll break his leg 💞

ynusername: something tells me you might find a few challenges in doing that hahah

georgerussell63: you're so strong yn, just remember we love you

charles_leclerc: the whole family is hoping for good news for you and oscar ❤️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 70,238 others

ynusername: the moment i've waited for for so long, back in my second home of the garage and back supporting my love during race weekend

14,592 comments

username31: make sure you keep taking care of yourself yn!! 💕

oscarpiastri: cannot begin to tell you how happy i am to have you back with me again ☺️

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri the best feeling in the world being able to cheer you on again

danielricciardo: ik just how much this means to you, welcome back to us yn

username32: it's so good to see you right back where you belong again

username33: it feels like you've never been away, I'm so happy for you guys 🥹

charles_leclerc: on the mend at last, i hope you know just how many people can't wait to welcome you back this weekend

username34: we love our favourite #81 fan 🧡

iamrebeccad: i am hurrying over to that mclaren garage as fast as i possibly can rn ‼️

username35: so happy to see you back on your feet and back with our favourite duo again

username36: this is the content we've been waiting for, it's so good to see you back

landonorris: as much as i hate having to share oscar again, it's a joy to have you back 🙃

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[luveline]

hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday

im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping

could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.

i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶

thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k

Can I come over? Are you home 

You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text. 

Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me? 

Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner? 

What kind of dinner my love  

Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken 

Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you 

You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?

You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable 

What’s wrong??? 

Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there 

You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“You don’t have to rush over.” 

“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.” 

Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?” 

“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.” 

“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”

“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?” 

“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.” 

“You’re always good company, you loon.” 

“You what?” 

“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.” 

“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.” 

“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?” 

“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”

“I know what you want.” 

“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”

“Don’t you dare.” 

“Spencer!” you laugh. 

“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?” 

“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.” 

“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.” 

Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear. 

You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway. 

He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.” 

You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.” 

“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?” 

“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?” 

“It’s in my back.” 

Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.” 

“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.” 

“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?” 

“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise. 

“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?” 

You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.” 

“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”

Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.” 

“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.” 

“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly. 

You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”

He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised. 

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: König x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, periods sex, blood play but not really(?), softie König

A/n: very self-indulgent. My periods are as tough as ever and there’s no one to comfort me, so I guess I’ll have to do it myself🥲

König didn’t really know much about periods. Well, of course he knew what menstruation is and that every woman has it once a month, but that was pretty much it. So when you started dating poor guy saw how things really were in female world.

He noticed how moody you would become a week prior your periods, how snappy you’d react to his harmless teasing. König noted your craving for sweets as well, and how angry and sad you’d be over a few pimples that appeared so unwelcomed on your precious face. And König felt truly sorry for you - it was clear as day that you were a hormonal mess, and there wasn’t anything he could do to help you, no matter how much he wanted to.

And then your periods finally came. König watched you get up suddenly from your spot on the couch, rushing straight to the bathroom. He was a bit confused - you were all snuggled up together, watching a movie you picked - did something happen? He knocked on the bathroom door softly, asking if everything was good - a few moments later you opened the door, sour expression on your face as you scrunch up the wrap from the pad. “Yeah, my periods started” you mumbled begrudgingly, your lips pulled in a small pout.

König who just couldn’t bear seeing his precious baby in pain, did everything in his power to comfort you. He wrapped his warm strong arms around your frail form, cuddling you into his chest. His fingers grazed gently the soft skin of your tummy where it ached, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, scattering small kisses wherever he could reach.

König did his research on how to ease menstrual pains. Painkillers, massage, yoga. But what particularly caught his attention - almost every article he’d read said that orgasm is a great way to get rid of cramps - not only healthy but pleasurable as well. So of course he suggested you just that.

König was so sad to see you this fearful and hesitant - “Baby, it’ll make a huge mess. Everything will be covered in blood and I don’t want you to get yourself dirty and-“ you rambled on, his eyes growing wide with every word you said. “Y/n, what are you even talking about?” He interrupted you softly, huge hands coming to cup your cheeks and he looks into your eyes deeply.

“Do you really think a bit of blood will stop me from fucking my amazing sexy girl? If you don’t want this - it’s okay, but please don’t think that I’m disgusted by you bleeding” he said it so earnestly, kissing both of your cheeks reassuringly. König hated the idea of you being self-conscious about absolutely natural processes in your body. So when you nodded shyly, slightly spreading your legs for him to settle in between them, König couldn’t contain a wide grin, even while kissing you passionately.

So with a thick towel under your hips, König got to work - lapping away at your poor pussy, smearing a mixture of your blood, slick and his own saliva all over his cheeks, gazing up at you drunkenly, moaning into your folds at the taste and smell of you. His fingers gently pumped in and out of your sopping cunt, marveling at the wetness blood provided, how easily three of his thick digits slipped into your sensitive cunny.

And only after making you cum on his mouth two times, König decided to fully indulge you, getting his heavy cock out of his boxers. With gentle move of his hips he sunk right into your velvety warmth, penetration as easy as ever due to blood lubrication. He went as gentle as ever, noting how overly sensitive you were - way more than usual. König made sure to not go too deep, to not disturb your poor uterus even more.

König was so sweet, rubbing your clit non-stop, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of your soft beautiful body. He scattered kisses all over your neck and chest, careful to not graze your sore from hormones nipples. And only when you couldn’t take no more - a trembling sweaty mess in his loving arms, babbling and whimpering deliriously, he allowed himself to finally cum on your twitching tummy.

König fucked you so good it took you several minutes to regain consciousness - with bleary eyes you looked up to him, your breath hitching slightly. Here was your boyfriend sitting next to you, grinning from ear to ear; lower half of his face was completely covered in dried blood, his hands and lower stomach glistening with dark red. That would definitely look terrifying if you didn’t know what exactly he was just doing.

“So how are your cramps?” He asked, his white teeth contrasting with brownish-red on his cheeks and lips. You closed your eyes in exhaustion, sinking deeper into soft pillows.

“Gone” you said, making König’s smile brighten impossibly more.

And yes, he’d definitely joke about being a vamp from this day on🙄

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some love, we live off feedback<3

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ AS IT WAS ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Being in Formula One has never been easy for Logan since he joined. At first, it was a childhood dream but now, his childhood dream is slipping away into a nightmare. The constant criticism, mistreatment by his team, being ignored by others, is especially getting into his head. But you are here to help him through these tough times…by less acceptable ways than others. Safe to say to not mess with his very overprotective girlfriend because something you say against him, might be the last..

PAIRING ౨ৎ Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ reader is very overprotective of logan (and by that, i mean she goes after anyone that doesn’t give constructive criticism),

A/N ౨ৎ ugh i love logan sm and i hate what’s happening to him :( i really hope that if kimi antonelli ever joins now that the age has been lowered again, that they don’t rush him like what they did to logan. There wasn’t any specific way to do this fic so i did my personal spin on it.

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

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y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n posted a story 10 minutes ago!

[story 1: aussie aussie aussie!! oi oi oi!!] [story 2: finally landed 😵‍💫]

100 others have replied!

View Replies…

username22 mom is on her way to support dad 😋 !

y/n_l/n yes i am!!

username23 MELBOURNE!! CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU IN THE PADDOCK 🥹🥹

y/n_l/n AHHHH ME TOO LOVELY!!

username24 say hello to logan for us, let him know that people definitely care about him and how amazing he is ❤️

y/n_l/n omg 🥹🥹 i’ll spread the word! he’ll be so happy 🩷

username25 logan sucks ass as a driver

y/n_l/n y’know what else sucked? your mom on my dick last night

TWITTER [Click on the photos!! they are cut weirdly to fit :(]

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

liked by logansargeant, olliebearman, lilymunihe and others

y/n_l/n Look at my Logie Bear and think about what you did @ williamsracing & @ alexalbon .

tagged ; logansargeant

2,491 comments

williamsracing ✔︎ don’t blame admin for this… 😓😓

→ username1 FREE WILLIAMS ADMIN!!

username2 HELP THE FISH PHOTO 😭😭

→ username3 bro is too american → username4 @ username he is THE florida man → y/n_l/n listen, he was very proud of his fish that he caught.

logansargeant ✔︎ did you really have to choose those photos of me 😞

→ y/n_l/n i did you look like a cutie :( → logansargeant ✔︎ 🥲

alexalbon ✔︎ WHAT DID I DO??

→ y/n_l/n steal his car. → alexalbon ✔︎ I DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE IT WAS A TEAM DECISION 😭 → alexalbon ✔︎ I SAID I SORRY MULTIPLE TIMES TOO → y/n_l/n ✔︎ WELL BE MORE SORRY. I EXPECT A PARAGRAPH APOLOGY TO HIM → username5 i seriously need someone that loves me as much as y/n loves and defends logan. → alexalbon ✔︎dear y/n and logan, I want to offer my sincerest apology for stealing logan’s car. It was a team decision I was forced into without my consent. it was never my intention to take your car. I hope we can still be besties. - Alexander Albon → username6 ALEXANDER IS WILD 😭

username7 photos 4-6 just being of him and y/n 🥹

username8 they are so in love 🤭

→ y/n_l/n you bet your ass in in love with this american boy.

TWITTER

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

liked by lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

y/n_l/n rest and relaxation after the race where logan gets all the love he deserves :) (thanks for the photos lily and oscar 🫶)

p.s good job alex… ig 😒

tagged ; logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer

2,109 comments

username9 TANGLED IS SUCH A PERFECT FILM TO WATCH WHAT

→ oscarpiastri ✔︎ don’t let the photos fool you, tied us down and made us watch it → lilyzneimer no we didn’t stop spreading lies :( → y/n_l/n stop making accusations.

username10 THANKS FOR THE LOGAN PHOTOS Y/N 🤭

→ y/n_l/n always ready to feed my children logan photos 🥴 → username11 oh, we ARE getting fed

oscrapiastri thanks for giving credit where credit is due 👍

username12 her caring for him after what williams did to him and logan not racing is what i needed.

username26 imagine supporting a driver that can’t even finish above 10th in racing

→ y/n_l/n blud just found about about logan and doesn’t know about his f2 an f3 wins

username27 this is why logan hasn’t won anything 😂 his gf constantly babies him

→ y/n_l/n babies? I just show more love than your gf would show your pathetic ass?

username28 i’m sorry that logan has to deal with this woman

→ y/n_l/n i’m sorry your mom doesn’t love you

IMESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

logansargeant ✔︎

liked by logansargeant, alexalbon, arthurleclerc and others

logansargeant I love my girlfriend :)

tagged ; y/n_l/n

3,210 comments

y/n_l/n AWE LOGAN :(

y/n_l/n i love you so so so much sweet boy ❤️

→ username12 the complete 180 she does when talking to others compared to logan 😭 → y/n_l/n @ username12 is there a problem with that?? 🤨 → username13 @ y/n_l/n no ma’am.

alexalbon ✔︎ your gf is scary as shit

→ logansargeant ✔︎ what do you mean → alexalbon ✔︎ @ logansargeant mate, when i took your car she texted me a 54 sentence paragraph on how she will cut my dick off and HOW. → georgerussell63 ✔︎ … @ alexalbon remind me to never talk to her when i see her. → username ✔︎ GEORGE 😭😭 → landonorris ✔︎ @ y/n_l/n don't cut off the weenies :( → username14 ✔︎ @ landonorris WEENIES 💀 → y/n_l/n @ landonorris can’t make any promises 😆 → alexalbon ✔︎ @ logansargeant SEE SHE’S MENTAL → y/n_l/n @ alexalbon mentally fantasizing about my amazingly cute boyfriend? yes!! → y/n_l/n i still don’t forgive you alexander. → alexalbon ✔︎ @ y/n_l/n the full name too?? → lilymunihe ✔︎ you heard the lady alexander albon → alexalbon ✔︎ @ lilymunihe WHAT DID I DO TO GET TAG TEAMED?? BY MY OWN GIRLFRIEND TOO?? → y/n_l/n @ alexalbon i can list a lot of things!! → alexalbon ✔︎ @ y/n_l/n oh god.

y/n_l/n has posted a story with logansargeant 5 minutes ago!

[story 1: omw to jpn!!] [story2: logan snoozing 💤 ] [story3: 🩷 🇯🇵 ]

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/n

liked by logansargeant, carmenmundt, georgerussell63 and others

y/n_l/n MY FAVORTIE AMERICNA SID IT OML IM SO HPAPY IM CYRING TAKE THIS ALEXANDER HAMILTON

tagged ; logansargeant

3,645 comments

username15 ALEXANDER HAMILTON 😭

username16 the fact logan only got 17th and she’s celebrating like he got P1 is so cute

→ y/n_l/n he’s always p1 in my heart no matter what ❤️ → logansargeant @ y/n_l/n babe 🥹 → landonorris @ logansargeant enough flirting i might hurl → y/n_l/n @ landonorris bro’s upset that he’s single → landonorris @ y/n_l/n WHAT NO IM NOT → y/n_l/n @ landonorris starge 1: denial

username17 USA USA USA 🇺🇸 🗣️ 🔥

username18 WTF IS A KILOMETER !?!?!?

→ logansargeant 1,000 meters or 0.62 miles :) → alexalbon @ logansargeant that’s my american. → y/n_l/n @ alexalbon get in line alexander, that’s my boyfriend. → alexalbon @ y/n_l/n STOP CALLING ME ALEXANDER I DON’T LIKE IT. → y/n_l/n @ alexalbon WOMP WOMP LOGAN'S BETTER 😒 → lilymunihe @ alexalbon okay alexander hamilton → alexalbon @ lilymunihe oh god not you too…

username19 the misspellings 😭 😭

username20 she’s happy that logan is happy… and that’s all that matters.

username21 i love it when people are in love

*♥︎ by Author!*

[f1angelz]

𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 — lewis hamilton x f!reader

summary: Y/N has developed a habit of crying every night due to her emotional distress. Lewis finds out about her little secret after one night of hearing her sobs. Inspired by the song “When She Cries” by Restless Heart.

content warnings: none, just kinda sad!

i wrote this when i felt super down one night 🥲 i was overthinking abt my future, and the song that inspired this fic is so close to my heart. i hope you guys like this !!

── .✦

The past few months have been hard.

Y/N didn’t really feel like herself— at all. No matter how hard she tried to, it just wasn’t happening. Her fears were constantly eating her thoughts, creating an emotional mess that she didn’t know was possible.

Everyday she would wake up in the morning and try her best to repress her thoughts with a splash of cold water on her face, and a morning kiss or text from her boyfriend, Lewis.

God knew how much she wanted to open up to Lewis, but she couldn’t— too afraid to show her vulnerable side. Especially with Lewis being busy with races and all, she didn’t want him to be burdened with her emotional and mental problems.

So she hid it.

And when all the world is sleeping, she remains awake with tears flowing from her eyes and muffled sobs on the living room couch.

It was a frequent occurrence, even when Lewis was home for the off-season.

Once she feels like Lewis has drifted off to sleep, she’d sneak out of bed and place a pillow in replacement for her presence and leaves the bedroom quietly.

As soon as she shuts the door, her eyes start to sting and well up with tears— becoming uncontrollable for the next few moments.

There she sits on the couch with a dimly lit lamp, staring blankly at the balcony view of the night sky. With each tear and sob she let out, it was a temporary solution for the pain her thoughts were causing her.

After a few hours, she’d crawl back into bed and wake up the next morning like nothing happened. Yet a part of her thoughts still remain, ready to be cried out when the night comes.

She hoped that Lewis wouldn’t find out about her. Her vulnerability.

But of course, Lewis wasn’t dumb.

When she cries, a part of him shatters completely. It made him question himself as a partner— did he do something wrong? Was he treating her right?

It was only a matter of weeks, even days for Lewis to find out. As much as Lewis wanted to help, he didn’t want to scare her away. That was the last thing he’d want to happen.

Instead, he says a little prayer on behalf of her— that her pain goes away and she may finally find whatever she needed to keep her mind and heart at ease. But as each passing night comes by, her sobs grow louder and the pain in his chest was slowly becoming unbearable.

There was one night where he really, really couldn’t take the pain of hearing her sobs. It shattered him to the core.

So he peels himself out of the sheets and leaves bed, ignoring whatever time it probably was.

He quietly opens the door and sees her on the couch, curled up with a pillow on her chest.

Y/N is quick to wipe her tears away and plaster a smile on her face, trying her best to conceal the pain.

“O-Oh! Hey, I’m sorry I left bed, I just went out to drink a glass of water in the kitchen, then I decided to stay out here for a while.” She said in between sniffles, voice hoarse, ever so obvious that she just cried.

Lewis sighs, looking at her with sympathy. He walks towards the couch and sits beside her, taking a good look.

Though the lamp was dim, he could clearly see her swollen eyes— evident that she had been crying for hours.

Y/N knew that he wouldn’t believe her very smart lie, her face gave it all away.

Without saying anything, Lewis takes her into his arms.

She felt her eyes stinging, blurring her vision as tears formed once more.

“Please tell me what’s going on, my love. It pains me to hear your cry every night..”

Y/N’s tears fall down even more, now unable to hide her vulnerability.

She sobs and Lewis holds her even tighter, stroking her arm to calm her down.

“It’s okay, let it all out. Talk to me when you’re ready.” He rests his chin on her head while his heart still aches from the oblivion of her tears.

She didn’t know what to do at that moment. Obviously, there was no point in lying about her state anymore, it would just add fuel to fire. She felt trapped, knowing that she’d have to tell Lewis about her little secret for the past few months.

But how?

Her emotions were all over the place. Words were stuck in her throat like a clogged pipe, unable to make its way out no matter how hard she tried.

“L-lew..” She manages to say in a small voice, her chest heaving up and down to catch her breath. She looks up at him with glassy eyes and fidgeting fingers, “Yes, my love?” His gaze softens, hand over hers to ease her trembling.

“It’s so h-hard..”

Lewis places a kiss on her forehead, “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me now. Take your time.”

She nods, still trembling.

“Whatever it is you’re going through now, I’m here. I know it hurts, love. I hear you every night trying to keep your sobs down, but your pain is evident. If you’ll let me, I’ll ease it for you.”

“B-but I don— hick— ‘n wanna be a burden.. You’re s-so— hick— b-busy with racing, m-my— hick— p-problems shouldn’t be y-yours..”

“Oh, my love, you will never be a burden for me.. We’re a team, remember? When one is down, the other one helps them get back on their feet— and I’m the one who’s doing that now.” Lewis places a hand on her cheek, wiping her tears away.

“I’m always here no matter what. No rush, okay? Whenever you’re ready, my love.”

He gives a reassuring smile, kissing her forehead once more.

Her heart feels a little bit lighter with Lewis’ words, tears have stopped falling yet her breath was still recovering.

They fell asleep on the couch that night, entangled in each other’s embrace.

Ever since then, not a single tear was shed at night.

── .✦

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

-

-

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips. 

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels. 

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?” 

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.” 

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?” 

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted. 

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?” 

“I was.” 

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?” 

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside. 

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi. 

It’s just not the right time. 

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.” 

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists. 

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.” 

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence. 

All the words around you just as speechless. 

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else. 

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before. 

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better. 

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried. 

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face. 

And a little bit of summer rain. 

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip. 

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight. 

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep. 

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next. 

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence. 

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason. 

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs. 

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out? 

Shit. 

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different. 

Why can’t he fucking move? 

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook? 

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue. 

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.” 

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.” 

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast. 

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch. 

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?” 

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.” 

“Nah, come now.” 

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know. 

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out. 

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.” 

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now. 

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak, 

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.” 

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.” 

“Shit, I know.” 

“We can’t keep doing this.” 

“Dude, relax, I get it.” 

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.” 

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.” 

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.” 

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous. 

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend. 

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz. 

Dumbass: Incoming Call 

Of fucking course. 

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.” 

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen. 

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.” 

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.” 

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.” 

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?” 

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling. 

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.” 

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you. 

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home. 

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.    

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side. 

“Everything, Yoong.” 

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach. 

So, so far away. 

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.” 

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that. 

“How did that sound?” 

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?” 

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.” 

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.” 

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?” 

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned. 

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep. 

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.” 

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes. 

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.” 

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in. 

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.” 

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.” 

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.” 

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh. 

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to. 

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it. 

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought, 

“Do the chorus again.” 

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?” 

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note, 

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.” 

Done. He said it. 

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame. 

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.” 

Huh. They’re gonna take that? 

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite. 

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod. 

“Let’s see how it sounds.” 

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long. 

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else. 

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment. 

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it. 

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!” 

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies. 

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation. 

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking. 

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window. 

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start. 

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen. 

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some. 

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain. 

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now. 

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying. 

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll. 

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up. 

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later. 

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know. 

Hustler: Outgoing Call 

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag. 

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.” 

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?” 

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has. 

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.” 

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him. 

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.” 

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.” 

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation? 

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has. 

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.” 

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel. 

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else. 

“If there’s something you need to get through...” 

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot. 

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard. 

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine. 

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing. 

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others. 

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom. 

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister. 

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country. 

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus. 

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all. 

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years. 

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together. 

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa. 

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What. 

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck! 

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down. 

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that. 

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too. 

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.” 

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true. 

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?” 

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything. 

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…” 

“No?” 

Just hurry up and fucking do it. 

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...” 

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.” 

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.” 

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears. 

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed. 

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink. 

His ex? 

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.” 

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem. 

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.” 

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.” 

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard. 

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly. 

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.” 

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue. 

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want. 

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions. 

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..” 

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once, 

“I think she feels all alone.” 

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes. 

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.  

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.” 

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face. 

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly. 

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.” 

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal… 

Unprecedented.  

“You’re the best out of all of us.” 

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence. 

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck. 

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.” 

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It’s over now.” 

���For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills. 

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.” 

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.” 

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.” 

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice, 

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.” 

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success. 

Get rid of it? He’s been trying. 

For three. Fucking. Months. 

“I might.” 

“…K.” 

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands. 

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it. 

What time is it? 

All that greets him is darkness. 

Nothing new, but darkness all the same. 

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean? 

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend. 

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you. 

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale. 

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired. 

And the darkness pulls him back under. 

Without even telling him the time. 

Buzzing. 

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck? 

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened. 

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone. 

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages 

Chim: 7 Messages   

Chim: Missed Calls (3) 

Holy fuck. 

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn. 

“Oh, fuck. There you are.” 

“Mm.” 

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—” 

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.” 

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck’s sake. 

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” 

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?” 

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears. 

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about. 

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut. 

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm. 

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.” 

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest. 

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.” 

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.” 

“He told you?” 

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.” 

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.” 

“Ah.” 

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking. 

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?” 

“That it’s done.” 

A hum. 

“That’s very true.” 

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?” 

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?” 

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.” 

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows, 

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.” 

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?” 

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Knowing the answer.” 

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake. 

“You’ll know it when you see it.” 

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!” 

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table. 

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?” 

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.” 

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.” 

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.” 

“K. Same time tomorrow?” 

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.” 

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?” 

“Relax! You will like it.” 

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up. 

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be. 

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again. 

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too? 

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever  

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter. 

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day. 

That sounds like fucking bliss. 

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today. 

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help. 

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance? 

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way. 

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too. 

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy. 

After all this time. All these days and nights. 

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.  

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms. 

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left. 

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds. 

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice. 

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more. 

Something that isn’t broken. 

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table. 

What. No way. 

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark. 

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen. 

Hustler: Incoming Call 

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight. 

“Are we… is this over?” 

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.” 

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?” 

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.” 

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.” 

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside. 

“Are you? With me?” 

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud, 

“No way in hell, doll.” 

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned. 

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.” 

That’s okay. 

Because he’s had a day, too. 

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.” 

Please keep going. 

Please don’t leave him alone. 

“Talk to me.” 

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit. 

You’re so good at that. 

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—” 

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”  

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier. 

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky. 

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is. 

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.” 

“Fuck, really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it. 

“What did he say?” 

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.” 

“Oh, thank fuck.” 

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.” 

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?” 

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.” 

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.” 

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter. 

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother. 

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too. 

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen. 

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours. 

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.” 

“What are you still talking to me for?” 

“I miss you.” 

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms. 

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”  

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.” 

“Why?” 

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.” 

“Fuck.” 

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?” 

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.” 

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.” 

“Ha ha.” 

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink. 

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.” 

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout? 

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.” 

“Wait, huh? Why!” 

“Nothing.” 

“I swear to god—” 

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear, 

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?” 

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.” 

“Kitchen.” 

The hell? “How’d you know?” 

“You’re always in there.” 

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.” 

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?” 

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all. 

“The world said let them cook.” 

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game. 

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you. 

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks. 

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing, 

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.” 

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue. 

Because of you. It’s always you. 

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.” 

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves. 

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night. 

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room. 

Right towards the corner that stares back. 

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit. 

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange. 

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door. 

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress. 

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you. 

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too. 

This is so hard. 

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself. 

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.  

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :) 

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect. 

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio. 

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.  

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man. 

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. 

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped. 

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further. 

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds. 

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep. 

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week. 

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call 

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly. 

“Hey.” 

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers. 

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.” 

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.” 

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.” 

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.” 

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker? 

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.” 

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal. 

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.” 

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.” 

“Do better.” 

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.” 

“What? Who said anything about dessert?” 

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to— 

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.” 

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching. 

“Mm, babe. One more thing.” 

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.” 

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head. 

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green, 

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness. 

And you want that to be the case forever. 

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.” 

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.” 

“Damn!” 

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes. 

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.” 

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.” 

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again. 

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned. 

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too. 

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.  

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!” 

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.” 

“You could’ve asked somebody.” 

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering. 

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver. 

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…” 

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?” 

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him. 

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too. 

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection. 

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.” 

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.” 

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink? 

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.” 

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—” 

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.” 

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen. 

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.” 

“Just a bite then.” 

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try. 

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.” 

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze. 

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?” 

“Everything.” 

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.” 

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. 

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.” 

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold. 

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.” 

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do. 

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.” 

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?” 

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too. 

“…Yeah.” 

Fuck. “About what?” 

“That you’d hate me.” 

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.” 

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.” 

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying. 

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.” 

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..” 

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.” 

“You do?” 

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.” 

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.” 

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers. 

“Hmm?” 

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh. 

“Always, doll.” 

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.” 

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same. 

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time. 

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center? 

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?” 

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward. 

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever. 

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.” 

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else. 

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical. 

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump. 

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair. 

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him. 

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath. 

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face. 

What is it with him and keys? 

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous, 

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage. 

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.” 

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right? 

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours. 

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile, 

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over! 

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.” 

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about. 

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here. 

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio. 

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma. 

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before. 

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here. 

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there. 

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.” 

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?” 

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?” 

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.” 

“Good. You bored?”  

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use. 

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man. 

“Forever might be a stretch.” 

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take. 

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness. 

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.” 

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.” 

“It was kinda hot.” 

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.” 

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.” 

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood. 

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history. 

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.” 

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.” 

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.” 

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.” 

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember? 

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!” 

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands. 

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks. 

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!” 

“Uh huh.” 

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around. 

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else. 

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.  

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in. 

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front, 

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?” 

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.” 

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.” 

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is. 

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return. 

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.” 

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.” 

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet. 

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before. 

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills. 

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them? 

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys? 

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage. 

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone? 

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here. 

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second. 

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue. 

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about? 

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.” 

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.” 

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!” 

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start? 

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?” 

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why me?” 

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.” 

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!” 

Ah, you were right. “I like it.” 

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?” 

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.” 

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.” 

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.” 

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead. 

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest. 

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long. 

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”  

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater. 

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother. 

All you can do is stare back. 

And without even realizing. 

You’re already rubbing your arm.

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tbc. :((

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a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[dwaekkicidal]

hiii!! can i req a fic or smh in which reader is lee know's younger sister and hes lowkey protective??? (i recently saw a fancall of him rejecting the idea of introducing his "younger sister" to the other members soo.. 😭😭) and like hyunjin gains a big fat crush on reader and reader is oblivious abt it but reader actually has a crush on hyunjin also and lee know founds out abt this?? 🥲 IDK IM SO SORRY THIS IS MY FIRST EVER TIME REQUESTING SOMEONE AND ALSO I'VE BEEN DYING TO SEE THESE TYPE OF FICS BUT THERE AREN'T ANY AVAILABLE..

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 3.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fluff, brother! Lee Know, crush!Hyunjin, mutual pinning, kissy kissy, theyre in love your honor

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: catching up on requests, i kinda hate the way i wrote this but i hope you like it lol ♥️

“I think I’m in love with Y/N…” 

Chan and Changbin’s eyes widen while Han chokes on his iced coffee. “...You WHAT?? Minho's sister?!?” Changbin’s hand comes down on the back of Han’s head, shutting the boy up instantly.

Hyunjin cringes at the reaction, already knowing it was a bad situation in itself. But then the bad reaction coming from the best friend of the man in question only makes him feel worse. He scowls and he can feel tears start to prickle his eyes so he hides himself as best as he can at the moment, plopping himself on the couch and shoving his head in his hands. “I’m gonna die...”

Chan chuckles and takes the seat next to Hyunjin. “Listen man. I know he seems like the devil in human form, but he loves you like you’re his brother. At most, he might be mad at you for a while but he wouldn’t actually hate you.”

Han fixes himself and nods along as if Hyunjin could see him. “He’s… super protective of her after her last relationship. But! He sees us all as his brothers so it can’t be that bad!… I think?” He whispers the last part under his breath, thinking that nobody would hear him. But they do… And Hyunjin only whines more and curls into a ball on the couch, hands still covering his face.

The rest of the morning after that the boys tried desperately to lift Hyunjin’s mood. They managed to hype him up enough to get him cheery enough to leave the dorm and head to the company, using some excuse about wanting to re-record a few lines and wanting his opinion since Changbin wouldn’t be available.

They also figured that getting Lee Know in the vicinity, to show that he wasn’t onto Hyunjin, might help with his nerves, which worked! At first. What they didn’t account for, however, was the girl who was also on her way to the building to "spend some time with her brother.”

Though, you’d never admit to them that you were really only there for somebody else.

And it didn’t take long for you to find them. They were always in the same 4 rooms so after doing a process of elimination and hearing loud screaming from down the hall, you discovered a good chunk of the group.

The entirety of Danceracha along with Chan and Han were in the dance studio, mainly flopping around to one of their songs and not actually practicing. Well, other than Hyunjin that is.

It made you smile seeing them goof around with no worries, but the second you looked a little to the left, your heart immediately skipped a beat. Hyunjin was standing near one of the mirrors, sweat dripping down his neck and eyes focused purely on the motions of the instructor.

You recognized the choreo, it was one you had seen a week or so ago from the last time you visited. But something about seeing Hyunjin so focused on his craft and smiling when he got the moves right made you melt into a puddle.

Just thinking about him was enough to make your heart beat faster, but you were also just the tiniest bit insanely in love with him. So seeing him in person for the first time in what felt like decades made you feel things that words couldn’t explain.

You were cut from your thoughts by a hooded figure- your brother, joining the instructor in helping Hyunjin. Then came Han’s booming voice. He screamed out your name super dramatically as he motioned for you to come over to where he, Felix, and Chan lay across each other on the floor.

You tore your eyes from Hyunjin and looked at them, giggling and shushing him as you headed over to them. You made it over to them without causing any distractions to the others- or, at least you thought you did. Hyunjin was distracted the second he heard your name, though he didn’t realize that it was because you were in the room.

And his distracted demeanor was unfortunately obvious to both the dance instructor and Minho. Though luckily neither of them realized your presence either. They both just assumed the boy was getting tired so he called for a break and Minho pulled Hyunjin to where everybody else was sitting.

It was only then that both men finally realized you were here, and Hyunjin found himself almost tripping on air when he saw the familiar shape of your body amongst the cuddle puddle. Your back was to them, so you had no idea they were even done practicing until you felt a human throw himself on your back. “HEY!! Get off me, Min!”

Minho groaned happily, getting comfortable and stretching himself over you as if he just got home after a long day of work. A big smile took over his face as he made some comment about how chairs shouldn’t wiggle around so much.

Hyunjin watched and laughed to himself before finding a seat behind his leader. Han looked back at him and smiled apologetically, knowing all too well that he was stressed out of his mind. But, in an attempt not to draw too much attention to Hyunjin, he went back to scrolling on his phone and stroking Felix’s hair as if nothing was wrong.

Chan however turned around completely, scooting over to sit right next to Hyunjin before sighing. His voice was below a whisper as he apologized, “Sorry man. I didn’t know she would be coming today.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I’ll feel better now that I’m exposed to both of them at the same time.” Chan made a face full of doubt but didn’t persist. He simply leaned back onto his hands and joined in one of the conversations.

Hyunjin looked away from him just in time to watch you kick Minho off you the rest of the way. You made an ugly face at him and stuck your tongue out before looking behind you as if you were looking for somebody. He followed your eyes to the mirror, that same spot he was just practicing with the instructor.

He felt his heart panged a little and he found himself frowning at the thought that you might’ve started to fancy their dance instructor. Maybe Minho-hyung would want her to date him instead…? He is pretty attractive...

He rolled his neck and took a deep breath, shooing those thoughts away before looking back over at you. He watched your shoulders drop as you didn’t find whoever you were looking for, then you turned around and your eyes met his. Both of you made a surprised face for a moment before you laughed. “Pfft-”

You mouthed a ‘Hi’ at him and waved with a smile sweet enough to give him a cavity. He melted in his spot and waved back, watching in silence as you stared at him for a moment before turning to the blonde boy currently pawing at your leg for a second of attention.

He continued to stare at you for a while longer with a small smile on his lips. The time flew out the window and he completely forgot his other members were even there. He even forgot where he was at as he lost himself in daydreams about a future with you.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to set that he zoned back in. And it was really only thanks to the loud groans of the boys getting up and stretching. It left you, Hyunjin, and Chan on the floor as the others bid farewell and Minho told you to text him when you got home.

You agreed and sent him a thumbs up before moving to sit next to the other boys with your back against the wall. By the time you sat down, Chan was already on his feet, stretching and feigning exhaustion. “I’m gonna head home. Have fun you two.” He didn’t leave any room for questions as he sent a wink to Hyunjin and speed walked out of the room.

Silence fell between the two of you for some minutes until you attempted to break the silence. “And then there were two…” Hyunjin giggles and nods, turning his body to sit facing you and leaning his head against the wall. The two of you continued to stay quiet for some time after that, mostly scrolling through your phones and occasionally showing each other a post you found funny.

Though, it wasn't necessarily an awkward silence, it was a very comfortable silence that you would argue that you could sit in for hours on end without being bothered by it. You don’t know this, but Hyunjin would also agree.

Although he was a little too caught up in his thoughts to think about it. The confidence from the pep talk the boys gave him earlier that morning was still running through his veins, and he almost had half a mind to confess to you right then and there.

Then, all of a sudden an idea comes to mind and he blurts out a question, not giving himself time to overthink it.

“Do you-”

“So-”

You both speak at the same exact time, cutting each other off. Wide eyes are shared between the two of you before you burst into giggles and motion for him to continue. He tries insisting that you go first, but you close the imaginary zipper on your lips and throw the key towards the mirrors.

He chuckles and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I… Do you want to go on a walk with me? To the shore nearby? I know it’s getting dark, but I just thought it would be nice and- and the weather is still good so-”

You laugh at his rambling and he cuts himself off, brain malfunctioning as his mind gets bombarded with images of your smile. He finds himself subconsciously smiling and in that moment he realizes just how in deep he really is. It’s not until you nod and make a quiet noise of agreement that he’s snapped out of his trance.

He jumps to his feet and holds out a hand for you, helping you to stand before jogging over to the seats and gathering his belongings. A smile takes over your face as he rushes back to your side and leads you out the door with a hand ghosting your lower back almost protectively.

Hyunjin continues to lead the way up the seawall as he tells you about his most recent paintings and walks shoulder to shoulder with you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours.

He walks a little farther before you notice a heightened concrete platform. It has stairs that lead up to it and you can already tell it has a pretty view so you point towards it. He glances at it before looking back over at you.

“Should we sit here for a bit? I wanted to talk to you about something.” You smile and nod, taking the lead and walking towards the stairs. He follows you up them and watches as you head to the railing that separates you from the sea.

The air was comfortable around the time you guys had started wandering around earlier, thanks to the hot summer air finally cooling down. But now it was starting to become a biting cold. No thanks to the freezing, metal railing that you were leaning on.

You shiver a singular time and run one of your hands up and down your arm as you look over the sea. It was barely noticeable, but he noticed immediately and became a little worried.

And, how do you expect him not to notice? He’s constantly entranced by your everything and worries about you every single day. He just can’t help himself from just staring at you during rare moments like this. Rare moments when it’s just the two of you, enjoying each other's company.

Hyunjin realizes that he is staring when you shiver again and he licks his lips nervously. He stretches, silently pulling his hoodie over his head as he moves forward, gathering the fabric and presenting the neck hole to you.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head at him with a confused expression, but he insists and moves forward again. This time taking a big step and standing less than a foot away from you so he could put the sweater on you himself.

He gently places it over your head and helps it down around your neck. You pop your hands through the sleeves and grab the fabric by his hands, assuming that he would have let it go already. But he hadn’t. Instead, he sits there with pink cheeks and his lips caught between his teeth as he pulls it the rest of the way down your torso for you.

The action makes your heart flutter and your knees almost buckle at the way he's looking at you, eyes shiny and full of something you have only dreamed of seeing. You heart beats out of your chest as he stays close, not even trying to back away from you.

“A bit cliché, don’t you think?” You smile teasingly and, despite your comment, you slither your hands past the pocket and melt into the warm, soft fabric. It smells just like him, obviously, and you can’t help but take a deep breath. Your body physically relaxes at the scent and he notices immediately.

He bites his lip in an attempt to hide a smile and he chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, maybe a little.” Silence falls between the two of you again and you find yourself staring at him for the millionth time this night. He stares back, lost in your pretty lips. He really wishes he could kiss you right now.

He visibly gulps and tears his eyes away from your lips to look you in the eye “Y/N…” His breath quickens and you hum, signaling to him that you’re listening despite the lack of thoughts going on behind your eyes.

In the corner of your eye, you watch his fingers twitch. They hesitantly move forward, between your bodies, and grab your buried hands out of the pocket of the sweater. He sees your breath hitch and you glance down at your connected hands before looking back up at him.

“Listen, I…” He looks behind you towards the water momentarily and takes a deep breath before angling his neck to look at you again. “I know this might be inappropriate, but I really like you. I've had feelings for you for a while, but I was scared that you and Minho would hate me.” His hands are shaking as he talks and you stare up at him in shock.

Hyunjin’s eyes search yours as you blink repeatedly, a cute little habit that you picked up from your brother. It could almost make him laugh if he wasn’t so fucking afraid right now. But he waits rather patiently, thumbs running over the back of your hand as he tries his best to calm himself down. Your lips part after a few seconds and he holds his breath.

“You… like me?” Your eyebrows furrow and his heart drops. His eyes widen and he pulls his hands away from you as apologies start to pour out of his lips. “I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I just had to say something before I exploded. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’ll leave you alone if I made you uncomfortable-”

“Wait no, Hyunjin! I- I’m sorry that came out wrong.” You laugh nervously and grab his hands, already missing the warmth. “I like you too. I really, really like you… I talk about you all the time to my friends, I’m sure they’re sick of seeing your name in their text messages.”

You both laugh and he seems to loosen up again. He waits a few minutes, letting your words hang in the air as his nerves calm down. Then he tries pushing it a step further.

His hands are warm as his fingers intertwine with yours and he smiles to himself when you reciprocate the action. “Your brother will kill me, but I’m willing to get cooked alive for you. Will you let me be your boyfriend?”

You smile widely and nod, “I won’t let him do that to you.” He huffs out a laugh and his eyes quickly flick to your lips again. “Can… Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks somehow burn even more, but you nod enthusiastically. He lets go of your left hand in favor of settling his hand against your cheek and rubbing the skin there with his thumb. You close your eyes and nuzzle into it, making him smile to himself as he leans forward.

Then, he finally closes the distance between you. You swear you can hear the fireworks exploding around you and you melt against his soft lips. The kiss is short lived though, as he doesn’t want to push a boundary and scare you away already.

You make a noise of disagreement when he pulls back and you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him back into you as you whine. He smiles and doesn’t make you wait much longer before he pushes his lips against yours again, this time moving his now-free hand to rest on your waist and pull you into him.

You feel the hand on your cheek slide to the back of your neck, holding you there as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. His tongue slides over your bottom lip and you are in the process of parting your lips when a voice startles you both out of your skin.

“Hwang Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin flinches and you feel him frown against your lips at the sound of his surname as well as the stranger interrupting his important business. It was the dead of night so anybody around was seen as a threat so he went on high alert, backing away and preparing to hide you behind him.

But as soon as his lips leave yours, he realizes he knows that voice all too well. The two of you separate and look over to the stairs like deer caught in headlights. “H-Hyung??”

“Min-” Minho glances over to you for a moment, silencing you. He’s scowling but loosens up when he sees the genuine fear in both of your faces. He sighs loudly and crosses his arms around his chest as he stretches his neck. It’s only then that you notice Jeongin behind him, staring quietly with wide eyes and his jaw on the floor.

“I checked your location to see if you got home safe and freaked out when I saw you were near the sea at fucking half past 10.” You curse to yourself, forgetting that the two of you shared locations for safety reasons once you moved to the city and then again when you realized that he said it was already almost 11 o’clock.

“I thought something bad happened to you.” Minho nervously bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes dart between the both of you, then he sighs loudly and looks to the side, suddenly becoming flustered. An almost awkward silence fills the air around the four of you.

Eventually, Jeongin finally fixes his jaw just in time for Minho to turn to him and nod his head towards the car. You hear a faint ‘Let’s go’ before Minho takes the first step down the stairs to follow Jeongin. You and Hyunjin glance at each other in confusion and you open your mouth to call out to your brother, but before you can he looks back at Hyunjin with fire in his eyes.

“Break her heart and you won’t get the mercy of the air fryer. I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” Then he looks at you. “And, please for the love of God, get her home before midnight or I’ll kill both of you.”

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[ellecdc]

Mother..... im so sorry 😭😭 but i swear this ones fun!!

What about another part to poly!moonwater where theres a party but Reg and Rem are running late.

Reg: * anxious and fidgety*

Rem: you know we dont have to go

Reg: no no no we most definetly do, anyway its not that. You havent seen y/n in this environmemt before have you?? She thrives in this kind of environment.

Rem: cant be that bad.....

Reg: 😶 think of Potter, Barty amd my brother in one person.

Rem: 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🥲

So when they get there reader is dancing on tables with Barty and Siri. Just the kind of person who lets go in that kinda vibe, doesnt even have to drink, its just the atmosphere that causes her personality to do a whole 180°. The kinda person you habe to but an airtag on so you dont loose them

I love it I love it I love it I love it

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

CW: mention of drinking, drunkenness and alcohol. Friends looking after their drunk friends. Friends bullying their other drunk friends (lovingly)

Remus was thankful that tonight’s Hogwarts party wasn’t being hosted in Gryffindor tower. Not only did James and Sirius get far too invested before, during, and afterwards, but it was also just harder to enjoy on account of watching what was basically your living room be trashed by a bunch of drunks. 

But tonight, he was going to be able to enjoy a nice time with his friends without any of the responsibility of having to clean up after said friends. 

And better yet, he was going to enjoy a nice time with you and Regulus; the first party the three of you would attend together as partners.

You had been very excited for tonight and had volunteered to help set up, whilst Remus opted to wait for Regulus who had quidditch practice before hand. 

And Remus was currently very happy with his choice as he got to watch Regulus change out of his quidditch gear and into his party attire.

“Would you quit ogling me, you fiend.” Regulus muttered as be buttoned the cufflinks into his dress shirt. Remus would have made fun of him for dressing so formally to a dorm party if he didn’t look so bloody good.

“Nope.” He said, popping the P.

Regulus rolled his eyes, but Remus could see a small smirk playing on his lips.

Regulus let out a steadying breath and turned to Remus. “Are you ready?”

Remus smiled before puckering his lips instead of answering. Regulus looked like he thought he should be annoyed, but ultimately gave in and pressed a kiss to the werewolf’s lips, hovering slightly above him as Remus sat reclined onto his elbows on Regulus’ bed.

Regulus pulled away all too quickly for Remus’ liking and began fussing in front of the mirror again, clearly anxious.

“Are you alright?” He asked gently, sitting up properly.

Regulus sighed but nodded in the affirmative.

“We don’t have to go, you know.” Remus tried, mistaking the boy’s nerves for being reclusive.  

Regulus kind of snorted at that and looked at Remus with a raised eyebrow. “No, we should go. In fact, we ought to go...like, now.”

Remus felt his brows furrow as Regulus headed towards the door, getting up and following him out obediently.

“This isn’t one of those ‘if we go sooner, we can leave sooner’ tactics, is it? Because with James and Sirius, I promise you that won’t work.”

Regulus laughed. “No, though I’d like to point out I am not afraid of those sods.”

“Well, who are you afraid of that has you sprinting to Ravenclaw tower right now?” Remus asked, causing Regulus to grimace a little guiltily as he slowed his stride for the lycanthrope. 

“Sorry... I guess you haven’t seen Y/N at one of these?” Regulus asked.

Remus realized then that your paths had never really crossed until this year, being a year below him and hanging out with a different crowd. “No, I guess not. Why?” 

Regulus laughed. “Oh gods. You’ll see.”

“Come on, she can’t be that bad.” Remus said with a scoff. 

Regulus rolled his eyes and smirked. “If I had one way to describe Y/N at a party, it would be a combination of Potter after a quidditch win, Sirius after four shots of firewhiskey and Barty.”

Remus’ steps faltered as he put the pieces together in his head. Regulus paused as well, making eye contact with him before understanding seemed to cross between them, and they both took off in a sprint towards the Ravenclaw tower. 

As they rounded the last spiral of the staircase, they stepped past the silencing spell that had been placed around it and could feel the vibrations from the music booming in the room. 

A third year Ravenclaw who had been paid for their service in Honeydukes chocolates answered the riddle to allow entrance to Regulus and Remus, and the sight took Remus’ breath away. 

You can dance! You can ji-ive.

You were standing dancing on the mantle of a grand fireplace with Sirius on one side of you and one of the Prewett twins on the other.

Having the time of your lives. Oooooh.

James looked like he’d been trying all evening to get up on that mantle with you guys, but in his inebriated state, Lily was easily preventing him from doing so.  

See that girl!

Both Sirius and... Fabian (if Remus guessed correctly) knelt to dramatically point at you who quickly struck a cheeky pose, earning the three of you cheers (but Remus was sure most of the applause was on your account).

Watch that scene!

Sirius pretended to play a riff on a guitar and Fabian did a scary looking spin from his place on the mantle whilst you opted to shimmy your shoulders in time with the music. 

Digging the dancing queen!

And to Remus’ absolutely horror, Fabian launched himself off of the mantle, seemingly making his mark by landing on the couch but apparently, he hadn’t taken into account the springs in the sofa which promptly launched him back off of the couch and had him landing on the wooden coffee table, causing it to splinter and break underneath him. 

Sirius looked like he was going to either fall off the mantle or piss his pants from laughing too hard, clutching your arm as you laughed along with him. 

Over Remus’ dead body would Sirius fall off a fireplace mantle and take you down with him.

He bodily moved through the crowd and stepped over Fabian without a second thought to stand below you (and Sirius, technically). Remus’ heart rate skyrocketed even more standing here below you, seeing as he was about 192cm (~6’3) and the mantle stood basically at his eyebrows.

He wanted to chide you, but your face cleared beautifully once you recognized who was standing below you.

“Remmy!” You cried as Sirius cheered “Moony!”

“I know I call you ‘dove’ baby girl, but that doesn’t mean you can fly!” He called up to you, any reprimand likely belittled by the beaming smile he was shooting at you. 

He held his hands up to you, and you quickly abandoned Sirius’ arms in exchange for his. With his hands under your armpits he gently lowered you back down to your proper height (which Remus much preferred). 

“Hi Rem!” You cheered at him. “I missed you.”

Your words were clear and loud if a little slurred. 

“I missed you!” Remus replied with a smile as Regulus quickly added “how many drinks have you had?” from his place behind him, apparently having made sure his ‘idiot brother didn’t break anything on his trip off the mantle’. Remus had sort of forgotten Sirius was there at all, to be honest. 

You seemed a little worried at Regulus’ question before he quickly added “I need to know how many I need to catch up to you, mon chéri.”

“Nice save.” Remus muttered to him.

“Uhm, maybe four?” You offered.

“Got it, think you can handle a refill?” He asked, placing a kiss to your temple. Remus wanted to eat the two of you up, you were just so cute.

“I’m on water for a bit!” You cheered back at him.

“So smart, dovey. Nice call.” Remus praised you. You beamed back at him in response. 

“S’not fair!” James shouting interrupted your chat.

“I’ll go get you a drink too, okay?” Regulus whispered into Remus’ ear before quickly taking off, clearly not interested in the whining of an inebriated James Potter.

“M’not ‘llowed to dance on th’mantle, m’not allowed to-to play with the play with the suit’s o’armours. Why’d I even come.” James cried miserably between hiccups.

“James, you cannot sword fight with the suits of armours, you will lose. When you lose a sword fight, you die.” Lily reprimanded, clearly at her wits end with her boyfriend.

“Awe, tough hand mate. Hey! Can I challenge you to a chugging contest?” Remus said, clapping James on the back.

James seemed to brighten up at that as Lily quickly scowled at him. Remus offered the redhead a wink as he plucked your cup of water out of your hands and handed it to James.

“’kay, but no cheating!” James called to Remus. Remus figured James was too drunk to realize one couldn’t really cheat at a chugging contest, but Remus didn’t plan on winning anyway.

Regulus had returned at the perfect time for Remus to take a drink and bring it to his lips. James, in his enthusiasm ended up wearing most of the water, but claimed he won after downing the rest of it.

“No way James, I want a rematch!” Remus called, grabbing the new cup of water Regulus had brought over for you - quickly promising to make it up to you - and handing it off to James.

The group ended up being able to keep James entertained by challenging him to ‘chugging contests’ whilst handing him cups of water until he had to pee. 

Remus got to watch you flit around the party, dancing to your hearts content (though, he did make sure to discourage you from anymore high surface areas. When he couldn’t, he made sure to spot you from below), and even convincing Regulus to ball dance with you, even though it was to the likes of Jackson 5. Though you quickly abandoned him for Sirius when Play That Funky Music came on.

Remus was sat in a large cushioned chair with Regulus in his lap as they watched you, clearly in your element. 

“Gods, she’s fun.” Remus whispered to his boyfriend. Regulus breathed out a chuckle and leaned further into Remus.

“She is. She can be trouble sometimes though. Probably good that Barty’s nowhere to be found.”

Regulus’ voice trailed off confusedly at the end.

“What is it?” Remus asked, but you came barrelling over to them, slightly sweaty and breathless from your dancing.

“Hi.” You breathed excitedly, falling to your knees in front of them.

“Hi dovey! Having fun?” Remus asked, bringing his hand not currently holding his drink and wrapped around Regulus’ waist to caress your face. His heart squeezed as your eyes closed and you leaned into the touch. “S’much fun.”

“Amour, where is Barty?” Regulus asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed momentarily before a cheeky smile crossed your face as you remembered.

“Oh, he’s...hanging around.” You offered vaguely. 

“Should I be worried?” Regulus asked cautiously, earning him a snort from Lily as she hauled a nearly sleeping James over to the couch beside them.

“The sod was swinging from the chandelier and got stuck. None of us bothered trying to get him down – he’s fast asleep.” She explained, gesturing to the ceiling with a nod of her head.

Sure enough, nearly right above them, Barty was passed out cold as if he were simply swinging in a hammock. 

“Hm...” Regulus deadpanned, narrowing his eyes at you. “Amour, did someone bet Barty that he couldn’t manage to get to the chandelier?” 

“No.” You answered quickly, defiantly. Regulus continued staring impassively at you until you sighed. “I bet him he couldn’t get down from the chandelier.” 

“And she was right.” Lily added, giving you a fist bump.

Regulus let out a long suffering sigh, causing Remus to chuckled and rub his side placatingly. 

“Fair enough, sweets.” He conceded.

“Easy for you to say.” Regulus muttered. “You aren’t responsible for getting him down.”

“Just leave him up there.” Sirius commented; he wasn’t quite as drunk as Remus expected him to be, but his movements were still sloppy as he moved to sit on the floor beside you. “That’s apparently what friends do.” He said pointedly, glaring at Remus and sticking his tongue out at him.

“I had more important priorities.” He said, winking down at you.

“Are-are you s,saying that Y/N’s more impo- important than your mate, Rmussss?” James said – barely – through hiccups.

“Certainly prettier priorities.” Regulus commented.

“Oi!” Sirius shouted far louder than necessary. “You take that back!” 

“I’ll do no such thing.” Regulus responded casually. 

Sirius went to stand from his place, no doubt to try to roughhouse his brother. 

“It’s okay Sirius. I think you’re very pretty. Next time, you can be the dancing queen.” You placated. Sirius turned to look at you like you hung the moon.

“Really?!” He cried. You nodded, causing the sod to launch himself, tackling you in a hug and causing the two of you to fall over.

“Oi! Don’t crush my darlin’ girl, Pads!” Remus called at the same time as Regulus spat “if she has so much as one fucking bruise Sirius, I swear to Salazar...”

“Do forgive him,” Lily commented, “he was just informed he could be the next dancing queen.”

“Why mess with perfection? I happen to think Y/N was a wonderful dancing queen!” Marlene called from somewhere behind Remus.

“I MISSED DANCING QUEEN!?” Barty screeched from his aerial prison above them.

Regulus let out another long-suffering sigh as he stood, lifted you up out of Sirius’ grasp and placed you in his vacated spot on Remus’ lap. “I’ll go get my broom to get him down...”

“How’d you manage to win that bet, dove?” Remus whispered as Regulus disappeared through the door, pressing his nose to the pulse point of your neck.

“Sticking charm.”

Remus chuckled and felt the breaths leaving his nose bounce off your skin and back into his face. 

“My cheeky little minx.”

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[satorusugurugurl]

Brat tamer and daddy kink with geto, gojo and toji please 🙏🔥

Brat Tamer’s

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, FAB!R

Word count: 4,982 (I got really into it)

Warning: unprotected sex, degrading, overstimulating, public sex, dirty talk!

A/N: I literally loved this, I got so excited. I stayed up late editing it when I need to be up in four and a half hours! Please enjoy!

Summary: JJK men and how they fuck the bratty attitude out of you! 🥵

Gojo Satoru:

Rage boiled in the pit of your stomach as your leg bounced. The foul mood you were in wasn't because you woke up early on a Saturday or due to you sleeping on the couch. No, your sour mood is sponsored by your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.

The bastard had been the biggest twat tease the previous day. All Friday long, he sent you the most provocative, smutty, thirsty texts the world had ever seen. Sexting, who the hell even sexted anymore?

Gojo Satoru did.

SATORU: damn, I'm thirsty. 😩

YOU: Buy a drink then? 🤨

SATORU: but they don't have what I want. .🥲

YOU: How could the vending machine be out of Cola?

SATORU: I don't want soda. I want that dripping pussy in my face. I wanna lap my tongue up and down, swirl it around your clit, and fuck you with my tongue until you cum on my mouth. Then I'll do it again, this time flattening my tongue over your cunt, encouraging you to use me how you want. In whatever way, Y/N, 🥵 I need you to sit on my face. I promise you the second you get home; I'm going to live between your thighs for the night. 😏❤️🌶

The conversation progressively got hotter and hotter until you found yourself clenching your thighs together to stop the insistent throbbing. God, it was so erotic. You loved reading his nasty words and were disappointed when they abruptly stopped. Maybe he’d taken pity on you, giving you a break to enjoy your dinner with Shoko and Utahime.

You were stripping the second you got home, kicking your shoes off, tossing your keys in the bowl by the door. If you knew how to teleport like Gojo, you would have been in the bedroom instantly. Alas, you had to run for it, sliding inside, hoping to find a naked Satoru with a rose between his teeth. Instead, you saw him snoring, drooling all over his pillow.

He had teased you all day, ruined a perfectly good pair of panties, to end up passing out on you!?

Sure, he was the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer of the modern age, and he needed to get all the rest he could. It didn’t help that he had been on a long mission two days beforehand. But he could have rested after he fulfilled his nasty promises. But no, the bastard fell asleep on you.

“Morning Sweetheart.” Gojo walked into the kitchen with a yawn, oblivious to your rage. “Man, I slept like a baby.” He glanced around, searching for you, as he scratched at his stomach.

“Aw,” he stiffened at the tone of your voice, “did my old man sleep well?” Gojo watched as you lifted your coffee cup to your mouth, taking a long sip and glaring daggers at him.

“The fuck did you just call me?”

“Old man.” You snapped before taking another sip.

Gojo scoffed, grabbing his mug from the cabinet and filling it with hot coffee, fixing it with five cubes of sugar and sweet vanilla creamer. “Why the hell are you calling me that for?” There was only a two-year difference between you two. So he assumed that you woke up in a bad mood or you were being a brat at eight in the morning.

“Oh, I'm so sorry!” Sarcasm laced your voice, “I assumed you turned into an old man last night. Seeing that you passed out at nine o'clock last night. After you were a twat tease all day! You know, promising to eat my pussy in Ultra 4K HD.”

Oooh, that's why you were so pissed off.

“First off, relax; I was so tired when I got home. I just intended to nap, but it turned into an eleven-hour nap. And, you know I'll make it up to you, princess.”

“No, you won't.”

Your blatant defiance had Satoru choking on his coffee. He sputtered and hacked into his elbow as tears flooded his eyes. The entire time he was fighting for his life, you watched with a smirk. Knowing you were the cause of that reaction.

“I'm sorry, I must have misheard you.” Gojo took a deep breath, clearing his throat. “It sounded a lot like you just told me no. As in, you don’t want me to eat your pussy.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pressing your breasts together. “You heard correctly.”

“Ha,” Satoru shook his head, leaning forward as he rested both hands on the kitchen counter. “Good one brat. You and I both know you’re lying. Keep it up. See what happens.”

“What.” You said, tilting your head. Assuming you hadn't heard him, Satoru opened his mouth to repeat himself. “Ever.” You finish with a smirk.

Now, that was annoying. Satoru’s blood was boiling as he realized you woke up and chose violence because he didn’t eat you out last night. Annoying as it was, he’d be lying if he said your attitude had his cock twitching inside his pajamas. Two could play in this game. He'd give you one last chance to behave before he taught you a lesson you would never forget.

“You’re going to listen to me carefully, baby.” You whined as he grabbed your face in his right hand, squeezing your cheeks gently, forcing a pout to form. “You’re going to be a good girl, and stop being a brat.”

Releasing his grip on your face, Satoru grinned, pleased with the pout that remained despite not forcing It. Now that you had been properly scolded, he could enjoy his coffee without choking to death. But before he could sip the sugary goodness, your pot twisted into a sly grin.

“Make me.”

Satoru’s eyes darkened before gently placing his cup down. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry as he walked around the counter, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt. He dragged you across the floor, which was easy, thanks to his curse technique. He whistled a cheerful tune as he entered your bedroom.

Which is where you had been for the last hour.

“S-Satoru!” You cried out, eyes wide as your back arched off the bed.

Satoru pushed your trembling thighs further apart. His tongue gently flickered at your abused and throbbing clit as his fingers curled inside of you. His cerulean eyes never once broke contact with your face in the hour he's been nestled between your thighs. Satoru was a man on a mission. A specific mission that was going to involve you crying from overstimulation by the time he was through with you.

“Too much!” You squeaked as his lips sealed around your clit, sucking on it. “Satoru! Satoru, please!”

He ignored you, promptly sucking harder as his fingers fastened their pace, curling against the spongy spot inside you. With a strangled yelp, you threw your head back, trembling hands reaching for his soft, snowy locks. You yanked him back. Away from your pussy with all the strength you could muster.

Satoru could have easily swatted you away, but he decided to be nice, allowing you to pull him away from your dripping sex. God, he looked as feral as you felt. Eyes narrowed, mouth dripping with your slick, pale cheeks flushed red.

“Oh, sorry, did you say something?” His talented tongue darted out, cleaning your slick off his lips. “Sorry, I’m an ‘old man,’ so I didn't hear you.” His tongue went back to work, swirling slowly around your clit as if it were his favorite candy.

“Mnnngh!” you yelled, gripping his hair tighter, “Toru!” He still paid you no mind, focused solely on making you cum for the sixth, seventh, eighth time? You'd lost count after four. “Toru!” Your legs trembled under his relentless attack. Satoru hummed, knowing you were close. He sped his fingers up, tongue flicking madly over your clit.

“Fuck! Fuck! Ahh!” You cried out as you squirted all over his face. But the man didn't stop; he kept the same speed going. Determined to make you cry from immense pleasure.

It was getting too much to handle. Spots were forming in your vision as you convulsed under him. There might be only one way to stop this never-ending orgasm loop. One that would most likely result in you getting fucked into the mattress, but at least that way, he would leave your poor clit alone for the time being.

“D-Daddy,” you whimpered, “Daddy, please.”

Just like you knew he would, Satoru lifted his head like a puppy being called for dinner. The damn bastard had a shit-eating grin plastered over his cum drenched face. “Oh, you called baby girl?~” His head rested against your thigh while slowly keeping his fingers moving inside of you.

“Nngh, oh fuck, I’m sorry, Daddy, please, I need your cock.” You cried out in relief, relaxing as he sat up, leaning back on the heels of his feet. “Daddy~ daddy, please.”

You knew he couldn’t take much more of this of the endless foreplay himself. His cock was straining against his pajama pants, a small wet spot forming against the gray fabric. Indeed, he was done punishing you. It had been a long, amazing, but still exhausting hour.

“Please, what? Use your words, beautiful.”

“Please fuck me.”

Tilting his head, Gojo rubbed at his slick chin, pondering thought. “Fuck you? You want your sweet daddy to fuck you?”

His hands rubbed up and down your thighs, making you jerk slightly. “Yes! Please, Daddy, I'm so sorry.” Satoru hummed in satisfaction before leaning down and kissing you deeply. You moaned, and he used the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. The taste of you flooded your mouth. He always kissed you like this before he fucked you.

Finally, the torture could stop.

He hooked his arms under your thighs, lifting your hips to rest over his own. But much to your horror, he pulled back, smirking as he lifted you high and higher until your legs were over his shoulders, and his lips trailed over your inner thighs with nips and hickeys.

“T-Toru! Wait, let's be reasonable!” A pitiful squeak escaped you as he dragged you to the edge of the bed. “I-I said I was sorry, Daddy!!” Terror plastered over your face as he dropped to his knees on the ground.

“Baby girl, I am being reasonable.” He pulled your hips closer to his mouth, his hot breath fanning over your cunt. “You were so hurt and distraught over me breaking my promise last night. So I have to make it up to you. I plan to fuck you all day.” Blue eyes glimmered, half-lidded, as he stuck his tongue out, dragging it slowly over your entrance. “With my tongue.”

Before you could utter another rushed, heartfelt apology, Satoru’s mouth sealed over you again, sucking you like you were his favorite treat. At this rate, he was going to suck the soul out of your body.

Geto Suguru:

“Sorry! Sorry!” You hummed out before stopping right in front of Suguru. You made it a point to bend over, your ass brushing against his crotch. “My shoe is untied!”

Suguru cleared his throat as you pretended to tie your non-existent shoelace. “No worries.” His throat was dry, and you looked over your shoulder to find him staring directly at your ass. This was going exactly as planned!

Last weekend Gojo had asked Suguru if he was a tit or ass man. Usually, your sweet boyfriend would say something along the lines that you as a whole, was his type. But between the shots of sake and the three beers he'd chugged, he eyes you carefully in thought. His dark gaze moved from your chest before he leaned back in his chair, trying to examine the ass you were sitting on. The whole scene had your friends whistling and clapping at the way he practically undressed you in front of them.

“Ya’ know, I was a tit guy in high school.” Suguru downed another shot before he draped his arm around you, pulling you firmly against his side. “But since Y/N and I started dating, I can confidently say that I am an ass man, Satoru.”

This discovery had your curiosity peaked. So there was only one logical thing for you to do. You needed to put his statement to the test. For science, of course. Nothing more than science.

Your first experiment was to see how he responded to you flashing him. When he had just gotten home from the gym, you welcomed him back by lifting your shirt showing him your breasts. In all of his sweaty glory, Suguru didn’t miss a beat. He dropped his gym bag, tossed you over his shoulder, and carried you to the bedroom, where he got his cool-down workout in.

That was the typical when he saw your boobs. Suguru loved your breasts. He loved to caress them, hold them, and bury his face in them after a long and stressful mission. In all of your previous relationships, no one enjoyed playing with your breasts as much attention as Suguru did. So to hear him say, with his own words, was a bit far-fetched.

Thus began your experiment to find out what he really was!

Throughout the day, you purposely dropped your pen, bent down to pick up your keys, and, of course, leaned over his desk in order to retrieve a paper that had mistakenly fallen into the ground. Each and every time you glanced back to look at him, to see an almost distant expression on his face as his eyes were glued to your ass.

His staring was hardly a reaction compared to you flashing him. Either he had been drunk when he answered Satoru, or you weren't putting in the effort needed to truly test him. He left you no choice but to step your antics up.

“Y/L/N-Sensei!” Itadori beamed as you carried a stack of papers into the classroom. “Do you need help with that?”

“No, I got it, Itadori!” You neatly placed the papers on the desk, grinning at Suguru, who was talking to Megumi about his stance in the earlier training. “I do need to borrow Geto, though. Sorry, guys.”

Hearing you call his name, your boyfriend turned, a soft smile gracing his gorgeous face. “Okay, class is dismissed for today. I'll see you all tomorrow.” The three first years left the opposite way that you led Suguru down.

“I needed to grab the box of paper talisman paper out of storage.” You opened the door to the storage closet. “But I can reach it.”

“So you're just using me for my height?” Suguru gasped dramatically. “Has our whole relationship been a lie, Y/N?”

With a giggle from you, Suguru stepped inside, reaching for the box on the highest shelf. Now was the perfect chance to see how he reacted to your ass. You stepped inside the closet with him. Your darling boyfriend is oblivious to your mischievous intentions.

“Oh!” Suguru turned to watch as you shut the door. He didn't get to ask what you were doing when he suddenly stiffened as you squeezed between him and the shelves. “I was wondering where they kept the extra pens!” You stood on your tiptoes, rubbing your ass on his crotch. Suguru hissed, and you could feel his cock twitch in his pants.

“Sorry! I just!” Standing on your tiptoes, you barely reached for the box of pens before dropping down. You repeated this action several times, practically dry-humping against him while attempting to maintain your innocence. “They're just so far away!”

When you reached your fingers again, grazing the box, Suguru’s hand clamped down on your wrist, squeezing it. His labored breathing hit the back of your neck as his cock throbbed hard against your ass. The air inside the closet was suddenly ten times hotter and stuffier than it had been seconds ago.

“I fuckin’ knew it.” Suguru snarled, his lips pressing against the back of your neck as her hands grabbed the hem of your pants. “You’ve been bending over in front of me all day on purpose. Are you seriously trying to test me?”

You were suddenly pushed against the shelves with one of his hands as the other yanked your pants and panties down, pooling them at your knees. “What are you talking about?” You attempt to come off as confused, but hearing the zip to his uniform being dragged down had you shivering.

“Oh, don't play dumb. You were testing to see if I was an ass man or not, weren't you?” He ends his question with a smack against your ass. “That's why you kept bending over, you know, like a brat.”

“Still don't know what you mean.” Your act is slipping up as you hear Suguru spit behind you. A second later, his hot, spit-slicked cock grinds perfectly over your ass. “Oh shit~”

Sugar kneads at your ass, thrusting his cock between your cheeks. “You can keep playing the innocent act, but we both know you're a terrible liar, Y/N.” He adjusts himself, allowing his cock to move further down, his tip teasing the entrance to your pussy.

“I am? Man, what gave me away?”

“Your shoes don't have laces.” With a sudden and sharp thrust, Suguru slams inside of you, his hand clamping down over your mouth, muffling your scream of pleasure. “Silly little brat, you wanted this as much as me, Your pussy is soaking wet for me, and I didn't even get a chance to touch your pretty cunt.”

You scream into his palm as he starts thrusting into you, the shelves shaking, dust flying around the two of you. As boxes and papers fall to the ground, Suguru picks up his pace. Your pussy is so tight and wet. It feels so good to be buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck~ fuck your pussy is the best,” Suguru whispers slowly in your ear, his dark hair falling over your shoulder as he leans fully against you. “This is like my own personal treat for being good and not fucking you in front of the entire school.”

His words, the tone of his gravely voice, and the mere force he was fucking you at. It had you hurdling to the edge so fast you felt like a teenager again. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you convulsed around his cock, cumming so hard you thought you might pass out. And Geto, he wasn't better off. You'd been rubbing up his cock off and on all day, the ultimate edging.

His teeth dug into your shoulder to silence his moans and whimpers as his cock throbbed inside of you, filling you with his seed. You breathed heavily against his palm, gasping for air as he dropped his hand from your mouth to your chin. He turned you to face him, kissing you ever so gently as he slowly pulled out of you.

“We need to go home.” With shaking hands, you tried to pull your clothes back up. “I’m going to fuck you for each time you ground that sweet ass against me today.” Suguru kindly decided to help you with your pants, pulling them up and fastening them secure. “Hope you're ready for a long night, Princess.” His hand slapped your ass as you both headed out of the closet. “Cause that ass is mine.”

In conclusion, you discovered the truth: Geto Suguru was, in fact, an ass man.

Toji Fushiguro:

“We’re having dinner with a potential client tonight. Make sure you wear something nice. Not like your usual t-shirts and shit.”

His words rang through your ears repeatedly as you eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror. You'd show him something nice. The asshole dared to tell you to wear something nice?! Mr. Sweatpants himself? What a dickhead!

After he took off for work, you made it your life's sole mission to get dolled up to a t. If he wanted to impress your potential client, you'd make their fucking jaws drop. You'd be so hot; they'd take the two of you on as clients just in the hopes of seeing you in all your fuckin’ glory!

“I assure you, my partner and I can immediately get the job done for you,” Toji said, sipping on the red wine his potential client so graciously bought.

“You both came highly recommended; I look for— my God.” the elderly man perked up. “What a stunning woman.”

Toji scoffed into his glass; he didn't care to look at other women. You were the only one he had eyes for. You were the only woman that mattered. He did, however, pay attention to the older man’s eyes. They were following whatever poor woman was walking about. Watching the man in his eighties undress them with their beady eyes was a sickening sight.

“Oh!” The man in front of Toji perked up, straightening his tie. “She's coming this way, Fushiguro.”

The sound of high- heels clicking against the tile didn't have Toji intrigued in the slightest. But the smell of your perfume and the sudden silence had him whirling around in his chair. “So sorry to keep you both waiting.” You stood there behind Toji’s chair.

Your makeup was done, and your Y/H/C hair was styled expertly. Toji had seen you dolled up countless times before. That wasn’t new. What was new was the super short red dress you were wearing. It clung to your curves, leaving hardly anything to the imagination. Your breasts bounced, threatening to pop out as you bowed at the elderly client. When you straightened your back, Toji felt the vein in his forehead throb as your dress, which went up to your mid-thigh, rode up slightly, showing off more of your smooth skin.

While you looked absolutely delicious, this was not what he had meant when he told you to dress nice.

“Please don't apologize, darling.” The soon-to-be-dead client motioned to the chair next to Toji. “Please sit. What would you like to drink?”

“Wine, please.” Toji gritted his teeth, eyes constantly darting from you to the client.

Throughout appetizers and drinks, you made sure to lean over, stretch, and emphasize your body in every way you could. In doing so, you caught the attention of passing patrons, the disgusting man in front of you, and your boyfriend, who was fuming with anger. Okay, yes, this was partially his fault. He put himself directly in this situation. Next time, he’ll know better than to tell you what to do.

When they brought out the main dishes, the elderly man licked his lips, holding a fork out to you, noodles expertly wrapped around it. “Have you ever tried the pesto pasta here? It's my absolute favorite. Give it a try, Y/N!~” Fighting back a grimace of disgust, you put on a smile. You leaned over the table, opening your mouth wide as you took the food directly off his fork.

While the act of being fed by a perverted old man was disgusting, the delicious flavor of chicken, pesto, and garlic made up for it. It was so decadent that you moaned as you swallowed the bite. Hearing a sound that was for his ears only made Toji stand up, his chair falling back from the speed of his actions. His face focused on you before he grabbed your wrist.

“Y/N! Pesto has pine nuts in it!” There was a tone of faux worry in his voice.

“Huh?” Cocking an eyebrow, you were about to tell him you knew that. When he scooped you up into his arms.

“You idiot! You're allergic to nuts!”

The clanking of silverware caught your attention, and your eyes peered back at the table. The pervert looks pale, terror painting his face. “I'm so sorry! Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“No! I have an Epi-pen in my car. I’m sorry, but we need to leave right now.”

“N-No! Please don’t; we can reschedule for another day.”

The old man watched as Toji hurriedly carried you out of the dining area of the restaurant, not once hearing the “Not a damn chance we’re doing this again.” From your very pissed-off boyfriend.

Toji suddenly turned and carried you down a hall before B-lining it into a family restroom. He plopped you down on the counter before locking the door behind him. His worried expression melted away, replaced with a darkened, more devious, rageful stare. The sheer power of his stare had you tugging your dress down in an attempt to cover your thighs. Something you had refused to do throughout the dinner.

“Oh no, you don't,” Toji’s large hand smacked yours away, “you’re the one that dressed like a slut, you might as well embrace the look.”

A shuddering breath escaped you as his fingers slipped under the skin-tight fabric, pushing it up to rest above your hips. The whole time his fingers grazed over your skin, you could see the anger in his eyes turning from a simmer to a boil in real-time. You were suddenly regretting your choices.

“Toji, we’re in a family restroom. Someone could hear us.”

“Oh? Suddenly, you're taking note of people noticing you? You didn't seem to mind when that dirtbag was eyefucking you all night. You left very little to his imagination.”

“Well, you told me to wear something nice, so I did.”

“The only place this slutty outfit is good for is in my bed.” He forced your thighs open wide, his fingers curling under the lacey hem of your panties.

His fingers were warm and oh so close to your throbbing sex. “Toji, they’ll hear us.” You scolded in a hushed tone, eyes darting towards the door leading out to a full restaurant of people.

Toji hummed and ripped the flimsy fabric of your underwear in half, causing you to gasp. “Then I guess you’ll be needing a gag.” Grabbing the back of your neck, Toji slammed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

God, he tasted like rich wine as his tongue slid into your mouth. You followed his lead, massing your tongue against his as he worked at his belt and pants. He deepened the kiss before pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, the tip of his cock rubbing up and down your dripping sex, coating your slick all over his shaft.

“Toji~” You hummed happily as the tip of his cock popped into you. Your hum slowly grew into a whine that worked its way up the back of your throat.

“I don't think so.” Your boyfriend pushed further into you. Using his free hand, Toji squeezed your cheeks in his hand, forcing your mouth open. “You were just saying someone could hear us.” He shoved your ruined panties in your mouth. “So shut the fuck up slut.”

Tasting yourself, combined with his cock slowly thrusting into you, made you cry out around your panties. Your hands shot up, gripping his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. The sting of pain urged Toji on as he slammed into you harder.

“I know I told you to dress nice, but I take that back.” His fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer, pushing his dick firmly against your cervix. “You flaunting your body like that tonight made me realize I don't want anyone lookin’ at ya’ like that” His thrusts turned harder and fast, his cock pressing into your cervix over and over again. “You only dress like that for me, Y/N; you’re my slut.”

Rolling your eyes back, you mumbled some unintelligible response back to him. Hearing the lack of words coming from you had Toji smirking against your neck as he nipped and sucked at your sensitive skin. Bite marks and hickey’s littered your skin, marking you as his. If you even dared to wear something so revealing again, anyone who would dare look at you would know you were taken.

Taken and thoroughly fucked.

Being marked, having Toji fuck you into place. God, it was too much, way too much for you to handle. Your pussy started throbbing, clamping around his cock, as drool seeped out of the corner of your mouth. Wincing at the sting from your nails, Toji released himself from your neck. Tilting his head to the side, he chuckled.

“Awww~ is my little slut going to cum?~” Nodding your head, Toji licked his lips. “You gonna cum all over Daddy’s fat cock slut?” Another nod, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Then what the fuck are ya waitin’ for?” Snarling next to your ear Toji fucked you as hard as he could.

That sent you over the edge. You screamed around your panties cumming all over his perfect fat cock. “That’s it, that's a good fucking girl~ cum on my fat cock.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “Cum on my cock, cum on my cock. That's it~! Gonna fill you up, take it, take it slut.” Toji’s head tilted back as he roared, pumping rope after rope of hot cum into you.

He remained like that, holding you on the counter, buried inside of you. Once his cock softened, Toji pulled out of you. You dug your panties out of your mouth. You were holding the spit-coated fabric in your hands. You looked between them and your boyfriend, who was stuffing his dick back into his pants.

“Who knew me dressing up like this would end with mind-blowing sex?”

“End?” Your panties were snatched out of your palm. “Baby girl, we're just getting started.” he wadded up the fabric before sliding his hand between your legs. “So I'm just gonna—” you gasped as he pushed your panties inside your pussy, “keep you plugged up until I get you home.”

[meowzfordayz]

when you’re inebriated and don’t recognize them — gyomei, kyojuro, sanemi, giyuu

Author’s Note: a lil lighthearted (+hopefully humorous) fluff for tn. 🥰

when you’re inebriated and don’t recognize them — gyomei, kyojuro, sanemi, giyuu

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~1,400

CW: alcohol, explicit language

Suggestion Fulfilled: how do you think the hashira will react when you're clearly drunk and they want to help you, but you push the away, clearly not recognizing them, and then you say something along the lines of, " No I have a S/o, don't touch me”

~faqs~

“Don’t touch me! You! Gigantic! Oaf!”

*big sigh* 🥲

Smiling gently to himself, Gyomei takes another slow step forward

Thank goodness we’re home he thinks to himself, well aware of how this current situation would appear to unknowing onlookers 🙃 

“I’ll bite you!” 😤

Newsflash: slapping at his outstretched hands is doing next to nothing 🥴

The man is a wall 🧱

“Please,” he tries again, “Let me help you.”

You huff, eyes rolling, “I don’t need help.”

“Your shoes are still on, as is your coat, and you’re heading in the opposite direction of the bedroom.” 🤨

Somehow, the calmness of his voice riles you even further 😒

“How do you know?” you scoff, “Maybe I’m taking the long way around.” 🙄

“Love, I live here,” he can’t help the fond exasperation creeping into his tone, “I live here with you.”

“No,” you snort, “You wish you lived here with me, but that honor belongs to my amaaazing boyfriend.” 😌

“And where might he be?” Gyomei asks politely

“He-” your eyes narrow, confusion clouding your vision as you frown slightly, “I’m not sure.” 😖

“Well how about you call him?”

Glaring at the looming (actually, Gyomei is standing quite casually and relaxed) man in front of you, you tug your phone out of your pocket

“Hey Siri, call The Love of my Life.”

Interesting Gyomei’s heart flutters —> you’ve never actually showed him his contact info

—Fortunately for you, he’s too much of a sweetheart to ever hold this secret against you

—What happens when you’re drunk, stays with when you were drunk 😉

“NO WAY!” you exclaim as his phone begins ringing, “YOU’RE HIM?!” 😳🤯😭

“Yes, love,” Gyomei chuckles tiredly, “I’m him.”

“I’m sooooo sorry,” you whimper, suddenly falling willingly and clingy into his arms, whining now as you pout up at him, “I’m going to have the worst hangover eeeverrr,” gasping dramatically, “Gyyyomeeeei!!!!!”

“As flattered as I am by your interest, I have a boyfriend,” you say, politely brushing off the warm hands of the stranger attempting to help you as you sit haunched on a bench 😮‍💨

Aforementioned stranger’s brow furrows, mouth pursing before stretching into a bright grin, laughter ringing through your ears 🤗

The hell is this guy on? 🧐

“I promise your boyfriend would be okay with me helping you,” Kyojuro chuckles, arms crossed as he watches you carefully 

“Oh yeah?” you mutter, hiding your confusion beneath a cool tone, “What’s his name then?”

“Rengoku Kyojuro!” he immediately answers, still grinning, “Not many people look like him…” ❤️‍🔥

Your face crinkles as you take in the man’s appearance once more, eventually shaking your head as you huff

“Nice try,” you smirk, “But if I was really drunk, then my Kyojuro wouldn’t think twice about getting me home, no matter how difficult I was being.” 😌

*cue a particularly fond memory of Kyojuro carrying you all the way home from the bar when you refused to get in a cab but didn’t want to walk and definitely wasn’t sober enough to sit on the handlebars of a bicycle* 😝

Kyojuro blames the blossoming warmth in his stomach at your my Kyojuro for his next actions

Aka scooping you into his arms and hoping his cologne does the trick 😅

(it usually does — he assumes his sweatshirts go missing for this exact reason 🫢)

“PUT ME DOW- 🤬 BAAABYYY! 😍” you squeal as soon as his sweaty, familiar scent hits your nose, “You do love meee!!!!!”

“I absolutely do,” he murmurs adoringly, unfazed by your sudden switch in demeanor, “After all, your Kyojuro always gets you home, right?” 🥺

“Right!” you beam up at him, your hostility all but dissipated as you nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder, “M’gonna sleep now, ‘kay?” 🥱

Kyojuro thinks about how long the walk home is, flexes his forearms, and smiles 🥰

“Of course. Sweet dreams, my heart.” 😴

Send help pls and ty 🙃

This man is at his wit’s end

On one hand, you’re refusing to Uber home with him 😕

On the other hand, he can’t just leave you at the bar 😒

And the last thing he wants is to order two separate rides home, and then have to patiently explain that he isn’t stalking you, nor is he breaking in, because 

“For fuck’s sake, I’m literally your boyfriend!” 😐

“My boyfriend would never speak to me like that!” you retort, eyes narrowed 😠

Actually Sanemi thinks wryly to himself Your boyfriend doesn’t know how to speak in any other way

“Because your boyfriend’s so damn perfect?” he growls, “Doesn’t ever cuss or lose his patience?”

“Well,” you begin pertly, “He is perfect! He brings me breakfast in bed, holds open doors for me, mends the holes in my socks, washes my back when we shower together…” ☺️

Sanemi is very pink rn 😃

He’s torn between wanting to kiss you square on the mouth and never doing a nice thing for you ever again 🫠

“... but he,” you trail off, tears abruptly brimming as you come to a startling realization, “But he’s so ruuude,” wailing as Sanemi simply watches you unfold, “He teases me whenever I stub my toe on something, pushes me off the bed when we wrestle, and, and, and-”

“And what?” he asks dryly

You gulp, refusing to meet the gaze of the handsome, persistent man still standing in front of you — despite your resolute rejections of him, “I think you might actually be my boyfriend.” 😭

He actually laughs, arms opening as you barrel into him, sobbing into his embrace, thin olive shirt sticking to his skin as you squeeze his sides

“Sanemi,” you whisper, embarrassment coating your voice

“Mmm, darling?” his own rich with amusement

“I want to go home,” you mumble 😔

“You sure?” he smirks fondly, “Even with me?”

Groaning loudly, you press your face harder into his chest, eyes closing as you focus on the steady warmth of his heartbeat 💓

Dismay might as well be Giyuu’s middle name

Because he has no idea how he’s going to get you home 😓

Shinobu abandoned you guys earlier, flitting from one bar to the next

And for the sake of his dwindling dignity and pride, Giyuu is not about to interrupt Tengen and his wives at their table to ask for ~assistance 😬

Kyojuro would be an option, if he wasn’t the lightest weight of all, and already home in bed (he left over an hour ago) 🙃

Shit

“Hey,” he waves at you, heart in his throat

“Hey yourself,” you glance up at him, frowning, “I told you like five minutes ago, I. Have. A. Boyfriend.” 😒

The urge to curl up into a ball and cry has never been stronger 😃

For Giyuu, that is 😭

“I know, I know,” he holds his hands up in a careful surrender, awkwardness in his movements as he ponders his next words, “I just… I think you should go home.”

“As in, go home with you?” 🤨

“Uh…” yes 😞

“Look, you’re super attractive and all, but you’re not my boyfriend.” 🙄

Giyuu is hitting his forehead against a brick wall 😵

Repeatedly 😵

Internally, ofc 💀

“What if I was?” he winces as his voice cracks at the end 🥲

Damn it 🫠

“Well that would mean breaking up with my boyfriend…”

He’s staring at you equally exasperated and in love 😖🥰

All you process, unfortunately, is deadpan 😐

“Speaking of which, where is he?” you mutter 😕

I! AM! RIGHT! HERE! 🫨

Giyuu is still hitting his forehead against a brick wall

+screaming every time he makes contact

Internally, ofc

“Can I at least give you my number?” 🥺

“How about this,”  you snap, “You find my boyfriend for me, and ask him if that’s okay.”

Regret isn’t an option as Giyuu immediately spins in a circle, striking a Tada! Pose when he faces you again 😎

🧐🧐🧐 <— you rn

“It’s me, your boyfriend. Tomioka Giyuu.” 🥳

You blink

He holds his breath

“Y’know what,” you finally say, “I believe you.”

Giyuu doesn’t bother digging for details

He grabs your hand (and exhales when you promptly intertwine your fingers with his, hugging his forearm to your chest 💞), and heads toward the exit

—

“Why did that convince you?” he asks the next morning, breath soft on your skin as he sprinkles soothing kisses across your forehead

You smile slyly—despite your pulsating headache—all four limbs squeezing tighter around his body to keep him in place as you murmur quietly, “Because only my boyfriend could make me cringe that hard.” 😌

“Heyyyyy,” he whines, pouting as he squirms in your embrace, exchanging his kisses for gentle bites as you shriek playfully, “That’s not very nice.” ☹️

[officallunar]

A deity and A man

This fanfic will be on deity!reader and just Lnd man’s because..I have yet to see anyone do this as often and maybe I can give it a try🙂‍↕️…

(I’m sorry yall i suck at aesthetics😭😭)

Warning:All fluff!

Sylus x Reader , Zayne x Reader ,Rafayel x Reader,Xavier x Reader! (All seperated)

Fanfic under cut!

The first time you encountered Sylus was unforgettable, mostly because he strolled into your quiet sanctuary like he owned the place. You were sitting on your favorite cliff, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when he appeared, his presence as bold as his white hair and piercing red eyes.

"So, you’re the deity I’ve heard so much about," he said, that cocky smirk plastered on his face. "I expected someone more... awe-inspiring."You arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And I expected a little more humility from someone who clearly just crashed the party.”

He laughed, unfazed. “Touché. But really, what’s a powerful deity like you doing out here all alone? Don’t you have realms to rule or something?”

“Watching over mortals is a bit boring,” you replied, crossing your arms. “But it seems like you need to work on your entrance.”With a playful glint in his eyes, he leaned closer. “I think my entrance was just fine. You’re the one who needs to lighten up.”

---

Now, weeks later, he’s become a regular visitor, showing up as if it’s his right. Tonight, as you sit under a sky full of stars, he slides down beside you, settling in with that same familiar grin.“Another night of solitude, huh?” he teases, nudging you lightly. “I hope you’ve saved some entertainment for me.”“Only if you can keep up,” you shoot back, the corner of your mouth twitching up in a smirk.He laughs, leaning closer, the playful challenge hanging between you. “Oh, I like a good challenge. What do you have in mind?”

You ponder for a moment, then say, “How about a little wager? If you can make me laugh before midnight, I’ll grant you one wish.”His eyes widen with intrigue. “And if I can’t?”“Then you have to leave me alone for a week,” you counter, enjoying the game.“Deal,” he says, and the tension shifts, both of you aware of the stakes.

As the night unfolds, Sylus starts pulling out his worst jokes, ranging from terrible puns to absurdly exaggerated stories about his ‘adventures’ in the N109 Zone. You try your best to hold it together, but each ridiculous tale has you laughing harder than the last.“Alright, you win,” you finally admit, breathless with laughter as midnight approaches. “You’re better at this than I thought.”

He grins, triumphant. “Now, what’s my wish, oh great deity?”You lean in, a mischievous glint in your eye. “How about you start by never calling me ‘great’ again? It’s just cringe.”He laughs, a deep, genuine sound that fills the night air. “I think I can live with that... for now.”

I’m sorry guys this is the only gif I found🥲🥲

Your first encounter with Xavier is when you floated through the abandoned warehouse, doing a routine check on the realm of humans when you stumbled across a familiar sight: A weird man , sprawled out on the floor, snoring softly. His greyish-white hair glowed faintly in the dim light, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Is this really how Deepspace Hunters do their jobs?” you said, voice smooth and teasing. He cracked one eye open, blinked at you, and promptly went back to sleep. (Sleeping beauty core??)

“Hey! Wake up! There’s a Wanderer nearby!” “Mmm, five more minutes…” he mumbled, rolling over. You sighed, shaking your head. “If you don’t wake up, you’re going to become its breakfast.” He jolted awake at that, leaping to his feet. “Why didn’t you say so?” He grabbed his sword and looked around, still half-asleep.

You couldn’t help but laugh as he took down the Wanderer with a flurry of sleepy strikes, yawning between swings. It was a chaotic dance of light and snoring, and somehow it all worked out.

- - -

Fast forward to now, you find yourself lounging in his apartment, a divine being sharing space with a hunter who’s currently napping on the couch. You watch as he shifts in his sleep, mumbling about “no more Wanderers” and “just five more minutes.” You lean over, poking him. “Xavier! Time to wake up!” He opens one eye lazily. “Is it a divine emergency?”

“Only if you consider missing breakfast a crisis.” He grins, stretching like a cat. “Good enough reason to wake up. What’s on the menu today?” “Pancakes, if you can manage to stay awake long enough to eat them.”

“Challenge accepted,” he smiles, and with that, he sits up, looking more awake but still a bit groggy. You can’t help but smile at his half-asleep charm. “Just promise me you won’t nap through the cooking.” “Only if you promise to keep the pancakes divine,” he replies, and you both laugh, the playful banter filling the room as you start breakfast together.

(Ah..next one,my favourite..I swear I’m not bias🥹👍)

The reason you visit Dr. Zayne Li—or rather, insist on popping into his life at the most inconvenient times—is a bit… unconventional. As a deity, you’re technically there to “watch over” him. After all, every mystical Foreseer needs a divine overseer, right? Or at least, that’s what you tell him when he raises an unimpressed eyebrow at your appearances. You’re meant to ensure he doesn’t stray from his destined path or, perhaps more accurately, doesn’t “forget” to relay prophecies or handle those icy, mystical duties Astra assigned him in the Tower of Thorns.

But, in truth, it's not just about cosmic obligations. There’s something about Zayne’s rigid, always-in-control demeanor that just begs for a little mischief. Maybe you’re a bit of a troublemaker (for his own good, of course), or maybe you simply find it amusing to see a doctor—always so precise and serious—dealing with the unexpected interruptions of a deity who shows up to “check on him.”

Sometimes, you claim it’s to make sure he’s managing that balance between mortal work and mystical duty properly. Other times, you vaguely mutter something about “divine energy alignment” while he just stares at you, unamused. The truth is, you’re always a little curious about this stubborn, hardworking doctor who treats his patients with such dedication but himself with nothing short of reckless neglect.

Though you’ll never admit it, seeing Zayne unphased by both heart surgery and celestial visits from an actual deity gives you an odd sense of calm—even if that calm comes with a side of his barely-suppressed eye-rolls. So, you keep dropping by, claiming to ensure he’s fulfilling his duties. And maybe, just maybe, you’re checking on him for reasons you’d never confess to his face.

The first time you met Rafayel, you were just a deity wandering around as usual, doing whatever it is deities do between one world and another. And honestly? You were a little bored, as any immortal would be after centuries of staring at endless ocean waves and making sure they didn’t get rowdy.

But that day, you saw something unusual: a young Lemurian, barely more than a kid, washed up on the shore like some bedraggled fish. He was tangled in seaweed, sputtering and swearing in a way that—if you were being honest—was more adorable than intimidating. You crouched over him, tapping his cheek with a finger, and asked, “You look like a drowned fish, kid. Need a hand, or should I start looking for some lemon slices to go with you?”

In response, he cracked open one eye, scowling like a wet cat, and muttered, “Who’re you calling a fish?”

Fast forward, and you had him propped up against a rock, offering him your limited (but highly entertaining) medical expertise. “Pretty lucky I was in the area,” you said, taking full credit for an accident of fate. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Rafayel,” he said, with as much dignity as a sea-sodden kid could muster.

“Cute name. Sorta like ‘fish fillet’,” you mused. He made a sound like he was trying not to laugh—or choke.

And just like that, Rafayel became your first-ever Lemurian “friend.” Over the next few years, whenever you were in the mood for company, you’d find him, or he’d find you. He’d grown out of his fishy awkwardness and into a young god of mischief himself. The Lemurian civilization saw you both as mythical, larger-than-life beings—until, of course, humans got involved, greedy as usual, wanting the blood of Lemurians for eternal life and all that jazz. You saw Rafayel change, his trust in humanity hardening into something darker, his artistry taking on a sharper edge.

But somehow, he never lost his humor or his bratty attitude with you.

- - -

The next time you run into him, it’s pure luck—or destiny, if you want to give it a fancy label. You’re strolling through Linkon City, admiring the odd human inventions they’ve come up with since you last paid attention. And just like that, you find yourself at Whitesand Bay, standing outside a sleek, modern art studio with a pretentious name you suspect he came up with in the middle of the night. Mo Art Studio,the sign reads. Classic Rafayel. You shove the door open and walk in without a second thought.

He’s perched on a ladder, painting the highest reaches of a canvas, looking like he just stepped out of an angsty artist’s dream. His purple hair’s mussed, and he has paint smeared across one cheek, which, you note with satisfaction, he hasn’t even noticed. You clear your throat, and he almost loses his balance, swearing under his breath as he catches himself.

“Well, if it isn’t the original fish out of water,” you say, crossing your arms with a grin.

He slowly turns, narrowing his eyes. “You.I thought you’d finally gone off to meddle with someone else’s civilization.” He smirks, hopping off the ladder, wiping his paint-streaked hands on his dark pants. “I see some things never change.”

“Neither do you,” you retort, making a show of studying him. “Still look like a kid I’d throw a fish at just for fun.”

“And you still look like you don’t belong on dry land,” he shoots back, with that tsundere spark in his eye. “You realize you’re disrupting a masterpiece in progress, don’t you?”

“Oh, is that what this is?” You pretend to admire the half-finished painting behind him. “Looks more like a disaster in progress, to me.”

His grin twitches. “What would a storm deity know about art? Stick to making trouble for fishermen or whatever you’re doing these days.”

You step closer, tapping a finger against the crimson coral in the corner of the canvas, looking at him knowingly. “This coral… it’s still soaked in blood, isn’t it?”

He raises an eyebrow, unbothered. “You catch on quick.” Then he leans forward, lowering his voice. “Let’s just say it’s a way of reminding certain… patrons of their crimes.”

“Not a grudge,” he says lightly, flashing that roguish grin. “Just selective justice.” Then he pauses, tilting his head at you. “I’m curious—what brings you here? Did the ocean get boring without me?”

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes. “I just wanted to see how you’re holding up. Maybe witness the mess you’ve made of ‘modern’ civilization.” You give the painting another once-over. “I gotta say, Rafayel, revenge art? Bold choice.”

You grin. “Still holding grudges, I see.”

He shrugs, crossing his arms. “Art’s about making people feel something. And if it happens to make a few insufferable humans lose their minds, well… maybe that’s just a bonus.”You laugh, reaching over to ruffle his hair—just to annoy him. “Still such a brat, aren’t you?”

He swats your hand away, cheeks flushing just a bit. “And you’re still an annoying deity who doesn’t understand personal space.” He clears his throat. “But since you’re here, maybe you’d like to see what real art looks like up close.” He gives you a sly look. “Provided you can keep your opinions to yourself for once.”

“Sure, I’ll give you a free critique.” You wink, settling on his studio couch with exaggerated nonchalance. “Just don’t cry if I’m too harsh.”

(I’m sorry yall I had a bit too much fun)

[fromaliminalspace]

always happy to be there for you to battle the gender struggles together and transe the narrative, @corrodedcoughin 🤝

also, hello??? Eddie being a somewhat gnc BOY and throwing societal expectations out of the window bc now he finally feels confident enough in his identity and his gender and his presentation to start breaking the arbitrary rules and just have fun with this and gently carve out his own personal definition of what masculinity may look like, regardless of how others view it? and on the way throwing out each and every notion of what "being a Real Man (TM)" is about, according to his father who would casually and offhandedly mock any gender nonconformity in its tiniest facets, be it slightly long hair or emotional vulnerability or anything else. because now Eddie's got an accepting caring father figure in Wayne who is welcoming and kind and gentle and is a living walking proof that one can have a valid masculine identity all while rejecting some destructive, both to self and others, yet societally glorified aspects of it. Wayne is a kind of man and a kind of human being who Eddie aspires to be and there's nothing now that can make him falter about the validity of his gender

also 1000% yes to Eddie owning and reclaiming his status of someone beyond the norm!! he may not be Normal in the eyes of other people but the only ones who sees it as a bad thing to be fixed are very much not the ones whose option he cares about. people may call him a freak but the joke is on them bc Eddie can and will embrace it with, as you said, pride and defiance. bc if simply daring to finally be himself would make him a freak then so be it, he'd rather face it upfront than keep hiding all his life and keep stifling his authentic self. more than that, he'd readily embrace his reputation and use it as a shield for everyone he cares about and has took under his wing, he'd draw the attention to himself even if it makes him even more of a target than before (but that's okay as long as it serves the purposes of drawing it away from them), he'd openly defy the conformity. and despite the odds he'd feel free af while doing that, how can he not when it feels so liberating and exhilarating to fire back at the bullies and bigots with what they assumed to be their weapons, only to watch it getting gradually transformed into a shield, wielded by compassion and pride and protectiveness of all things, even while they probably have zero notion to realize what it is exactly that makes them so unnerved about Eddie and makes them lose some interest in picking at him. meanwhile no one in his immediate circle has indeed ever assumed the gender oddities to be merely a "phase" or a temporal obscure caprice, and instead have welcomed him as he is, even if sometimes without necessarily fully understanding his identity, but always making an effort to make Eddie feel accepted

and a shoutout/callout for Eddie’s gender dysphoria being a bigger motivator for workouts (and sticking to a Routine in general cuz gods know his undiagnosed ADHD brain is rudely making everything so much harder than it's got any right to be) than any PE classes have ever hoped to be. his arms may have already been used to occasional soreness due to the sheer stamina it takes to pull off some metal riffs and solos but it’s good to have Steve explain how to tailor a perfect workout routine for him and get the best out of it. it’s just as good to one day hear Nancy suggest subtly contouring his face with a bit of makeup but shape the shadows and highlights in a somewhat more male-typical way. and now that it can be more efficient and natural-looking to use the facial features of the male relatives as a point of reference, Eddie brings an old photo of his uncle for Nancy to have as a vague reference, does it with a fluttering heart bc in a way it’d make him and Wayne more of a family than he ever felt with his dad, more of safe place to land where he feels he belongs, so suddenly gaining an extra sth to further establish the connection with his true family can’t go wrong with him

yessss, of course CC would think that it’s extremely metal of him! of him and Gareth alike (though tbh i’ve still not quite decided about how exactly i hc him, i just know that he does in fact give huge Genderqueer Vibes, whatever those might be, idk in my head he can be amab nonbinary or transmasc or sth else entirely, depending on a ficlet idea), and Jeff and Lloyd no idea why but he’s been Lloyd in my head and in my fic are always eager to welcome the both of them (in the scenario where Gareth’s also transmasc ofc) into boyhood and offer unconditional and sincere encouragement. (and once Eddie eventually meets El for the first time he can offer her the same support and encouragement and assure her that ’s as pretty and bitchin’ and badass as she wants to be regardless of what her hair currently looks like)

[obligatory disclaimer that wrecking your voice and driving it to the point of pain is probably the most important thing not to do when working on it, whether it be for trans reasons or for learning harsh metal vocals reasons] fvbhdbv pranking Higgins this way is sth he would totally do, thank you for the 100/10 delightful mental image! but yeah, he would slowly learn to mentally deconstruct all the voices he hears around him on daily basis and try to distinguish what exactly makes them sound the way they do, especially in the gender context. and, step by step, learn how to add the right kind of gravel and depth into his own voice and how to consistently use it throughout different parts of his range. being a theater kid (and after all he’s been used to acting, having pretended to be someone he’s just not for such a long chunk of his life) and later on a Dungeon Master is only a bonus and an extra excuse to work on his voice and eventually be capable to use it as a gateway for doing an impressive variety of character voices both in the school’s drama club and during his D&D sessions when introducing different NPCs. as everything else it’s not exactly a fast process but with time it does yield results and Eddie can’t be happier whenever he notices his progress

okay so your trans art binge-reblog spree yesterday kinda synced up with me having Intense Gender Feels so please allow me the liberty of gently knocking at your inbox again bc I feel a mighty need to unleash some trans!Eddie headcanons on you >.>

imagine the sheer emancipation of Eddie growing out his hair again after he had cut it short when first moving in with Wayne but this time long hair feels different and so, so much freeing bc it's no longer a stupid social expectation rooted in sth that isn't even true about him but instead a personal choice, one deeply connected with the music that comforts and inspires him like nothing else

imagine the freedom of him first realizing he's trans and how things — maybe not all things but at least some of them — suddenly fell into place from just knowing who he is, even if back then he had no opportunity and no safe place to as much as think about trying to socially transition. just feeling like his authentic self for once, without the weight of others' preconceptions about all the arbitrary ways he's supposed to be. he might've been unable to tell anyone at that time but simply having that knowledge to himself was liberating from the years of having felt like there's sth wrong with him. liberating bc now he knew for a fact that there wasn't. how can this be wrong if it made him feel like himself for the first time maybe ever?

imagine him hesitantly knocking on his uncle's door in the middle of the night when he had no choice but to run away from home. imagine the surprise on Wayne's face and all the unyielding unquestioning trust and comfort he's got for him, so thorough and genuine that it only takes him a few days to come out despite the fear. and then Wayne's silence breaks into a question of what name his nephew would like to called then. the words startling soon-to-be-Eddie into a impulsive hug, which is returned with utmost care and with quiet thinking-out-loud rambling of whether Wayne's got any clothes that would fit his nephew and that he would feel comfortable in

imagine the joy when Eddie gets a fake ID from Reefer Rick one day

imagine him making friends with the rest of Corroded Coffin guys and, when he gathers the courage and trust to come out, being met with support, ranging from confusion and a promise to eventually get how any of it works and to respect Eddie's pronouns etc, to deep understanding that hardly needs words bc you know you're being seen for who you actually are

imagine Eddie working on his voice and ending up achieving some success partly thanks to singing along to his favorite songs and trying to learn harsh metal vocals and at first scaring everyone around by going over the top with them until he figures out ways to train his voice to be more masculine sounding without resorting to that kind of harshness (and developing multiple fun vocal stims on the way)

imagine Eddie getting together with Steve and as a bonus gaining the perfect person to get advice from when it comes to figuring out a workout routine for his purposes

imagine the relief of knowing there are multiple people who you can be your authentic self with and who love you for this and would never change a single thing about what makes you yourself

oof well, I kinda carried away "a bit" (meanwhile the Feels have only intensified further whoops) and these are in no particular order but I really hope you'll like this humble offering. have a restful fulfilling weekend💜

LIAM!!!! LIAM!!!!! I am always ready for transing the narrative (been in some gender struggles too so let’s be in this together 🤝) I’m going to be running commentary replying so if it’s incoherent or accidentally cover something said later I’m sorry!!

- the hair!! YES!!! I feel like he had long hair before and felt pushed into have short hair in order to be taken seriously in his identity but what he always really wanted to be was ‘just a boy with long hair’ and the more it grows the happier he gets becuase THIS!! THIS!!! Is who he feels like he should have always been!!! This feel RIGHT! When it gets past the length of being ‘acceptable’ for a boy and starts brushing his shoulders he hasn’t never felt more strongly that he is Right. That this is Who He Is, this is Eddie Munson and Eddie Munson is a societal expectation-dodging BOY

- THE ACCEPTANCE AND REALISATION!!! What if he was going around as a child saying kid stuff like ‘when will I grow a beard?’ And being hushed by his elders (before Wayne). Going along with what was given to him, be it toys or clothes because his family didn’t have a lot so he’s not going to ask for more but knowing that they didn’t feel right. That he was performing a character for these people and hoping it would be enough for them, for himself. It’s not, something still feels wrong and he can’t figure out. But then, then he gets the keys to the kingdom, he moves in with Wayne and Wayne gives him some money and sets him loose in the thrift shop. At the start he sifts through the girl’s rails but all of the sizes are wrong for him. So wayne just suggests the boys racks because hey it’s just T-shirts and we need to get you stuff that fits. He guides eddie to the plain T-shirts, not thinking much of it. Not thinking it’ll be a Realisation in the young mind of his nephew. Eddie goes home with 2 boys T-shirts that day and from then on gravitates to exclusively wearing them. Next thrift shop visit eddie makes a beeline to the boys section and doesn’t look back.

- AHHH WAYNE AND COMING OUT I LOVE YOUR VERSION!!! What about Wayne passing a couple of shirts on to Eddie? A hat too? And a belt because god knows Eddie’s buying the jeans that hide his hips and needs something to hold them up. Wayne starts calling eddie ‘son’ and ‘boy’. Every time it’s like Christmas lights have been turned on behind his eyes. He feels dizzy with it, can’t contain himself, has to clench his fists to stop himself from shaking becuase this? This feels right. It fees Correct and knowing Wayne is here with him is the ballast he needs to secure himself on this unpredictable ride.

-CORRODED COFFIN SAYING ITS SO METAL OF HIM. (I personally also hc Gareth as trans so I like to think that Jeff and Freak are always ready to be Boys and show them Boy Stuff. Like alongside band practice they had Boy Practice at the start and now they can burp the alphabet in harmony and can armpit fart guitar solos and play fight and are just GOOFY)

- eddie going to a gig or band practice and then the next morning waking up with a slightly wrecked voice that he /loves/. He surreptitiously tries to maintain it, shouting lyrics in his room and just screaming sometimes but it starts to get painful and he accepts he has to find a different way. He listens to the radio with Wayne, asks to go with him when Wayne’s work friends plan a couple of drinks in one of their yards. Eddie gets to go to a couple, gets to listen to Wayne’s country and rock radio stations. Gets to hear these men talking and tries out phrases he hears when he’s on his own, records them on a tape deck he found in the thrift by luck one day. Records and re-records until he gets it right. Until he can prank call principle Higgins and get shouted at down the phone ‘I’ll find out who your father is boy! He’ll have your hide!’ The peak is when he goes into scoops and gets everything he wanted ‘hey man, how’s it going?’ From the offensively cute sailor with the big hands and strawberry sweet smile

- WORKOUT SUPPORT STEVE. YES. YES ABSOLUTELY!!! Steve showing him that he can’t just hit upper body every day, that he has to get everywhere. That he needs to make his core thicker if he wants that boy look. That working on his quads and calves will help, he promises it won’t leave him a big butt and tiny waist. (Not unless he wants Steve’s routine, that boy is going to work on his ass-ets okay?) eddie doing his first full push up with Proper Form and feeling the muscles in his back move and thinks yes. This is Good. God knows he’s not great at sticking to it but when it serves a purpose and it means he gets to ogle his boyfriend? Kind of a win win

- TBE LAST POINT!!! Yes!!! Eddie living in subconscious fear for so long that he pushes the very notion of being a Boy down. so far Down and Away that he won’t ever let it see the light of day. Or so he thinks. He tells himself that he is fine, that this is fine. But it isn’t and he doesn’t know what feels wrong. Until it slowly starts to change at a glacial speed. He tries different things. Starting only in his room, makes jokes that he thinks he can get away with in front of Wayne. Pushes it further, does more Boy things with corroded coffin. Sees that it’s okay? They are okay with it? With how he is? Sees that Wayne just nods at him and doesn’t make a fuss? That Wayne’s friends don’t bay an eye somehow? (Sure some guys at work do, but Wayne makes sure they know where their opinions aren’t wanted. That Wayne and his group aren’t to be taken lightly on the topic of Wayne’s nephew)

Eddie experiencing so much acceptance and love and there being so venom in it. No ‘waiting’ for it all to pass and Eddie to go back to ‘normal’. Eddies never been normal and that’s a badge he starts to wear with pride. With defiance. Knowing that he has everyone he could ever need how could be not?