#the crew should play spin the bottle

[powerlineangel]

Urk….. i miss them…

[worlds-we-write]

time in a bottle

pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

summary: You survive. Barely. After a brutal ambush meant for Joel, he’s the one left picking up the pieces. As you recover, both of you have to learn how to live with the scars—inside and out. Inspired by Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce

WC: 5.5K

Tags: graphic violence, detailed injury descriptions, near-death experience, PTSD and trauma response, panic attacks, nightmares, body image insecurity, physical and emotional recovery, protective Joel Miller, soft and emotionally vulnerable Joel, hurt/comfort, angst with a soft ending, established relationship, no smut (pure emotional intimacy), canon-divergent

My Masterlist

You’re only supposed to be out for another hour.

It’s a familiar path—worn by hooves and boots, trees thin enough to see through, quiet enough to feel safe. You’ve ridden it dozens of times.

But this time feels off.

You turn your head too late. You barely register the snap of a branch before someone slams into you from behind.

Your forehead cracks against the ground. Pain explodes across your face. Your ears ring. Your mouth fills with dirt.

Boots stomp near your ribs. You try to move, but you’re already being dragged—hands under your arms, your limbs limp, rifle long gone.

They drop you in a clearing like you’re nothing.

You blink past blood.

Three people surround you. One woman crouches in front—built like a tank, arms tense, jaw tight.

You don’t know her.

But she knows you.

“Thought I’d find you eventually,” she says, voice sharp with venom. “Joel always did have a soft spot for strays.”

Your heart stutters.

Joel?

You push up on one elbow. “What… what the hell are you talking about?”

You try to move, but hands hold you down—two of her crew pinning your arms and legs.

“I was hoping for Joel,” she continues, crouching beside you, pulling out a knife. “But you… you’ll do.”

The knife kisses your cheek.

Then slices.

Not deep—but enough to sting. Enough to make you flinch.

Her jaw twitches.

She stands up and kicks you hard in the side. You scream as ribs snap like brittle twigs.

“You don’t get to play dumb,” she snarls. “You’re the girl from Jackson. His… what, girlfriend? Housemate? Fuck-buddy?”

You stare, mouth open, breath stuck. You don’t recognize her, but she’s looking at you like you killed someone she loved.

“I should kill you quick,” she says, pulling a hammer from her belt. “But that wouldn’t hurt him enough.”

You try to crawl backward. The others move to block you.

“I don’t know who you are,” you rasp.

She crouches beside you, grabbing your face roughly. “No, but I know you. And that’s enough. I’m gonna make sure when he sees you, he sees what he did.”

The first hit with the hammer doesn’t come down on your skull—it crashes into your leg. You scream.

She’s not trying to kill you.

She’s trying to destroy you.

Another hit. Another. Your vision blurs. Your shoulder is yanked backward until something tears. You cry out, choking.

She whispers things you can’t make sense of—“My father,” “hospital,” “he didn’t hesitate.”

None of it makes sense.

But all of it hurts.

Eventually, you stop fighting. You just breathe. Try to stay awake.

Then—

Gunfire.

A sharp crack, and one of the men drops.

Another shot—clean through the second’s chest. He collapses.

The woman—though you still don’t know her name—spins too late.

Jesse’s bullet hits her square in the chest.

She gasps, stumbles. Her hammer falls. One more shot and she hits the ground, lifeless.

When it’s over, the world is deathly still.

He rushes to you. You can’t even lift your head.

“Hey. Hey, I got you,” he whispers, falling to his knees, pressing his hands to your bleeding side. “Oh fuck, oh my god…”

You try to speak. Your lips barely move.

He leans in close.

“…Joel,” you breathe, tears mixing with blood. “Don’t let him… blame himself.”

Jesse shakes his head, panicking. “No. No, don’t talk like that. We’re gonna get you home.”

He shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around you, lifting you carefully into his arms. You scream—your shoulder’s dislocated—but he holds you like you’ll break. Because you will.

“Shhh, I know, I know,” Jesse pants, voice shaking. “It’s bad. It’s so bad. Just hold on.”

He starts running.

“I’m getting you back. I swear to God. I swear to God,” he pants, staggering toward the trees, back toward Jackson, covered in blood that isn’t just yours.

Behind you, she lies dead in the dirt.

But her legacy is carved into your skin.

And all you can do is close your eyes and hope he gets you there in time.

You never even got her name.

He hears the shouting before he sees the blood.

Joel’s just outside the stables when the gates open too fast—too loud. His head snaps up.

People are running. Someone yells for help. Maria’s voice barks orders from the tower. Joel drops the shovel in his hand and moves before he can think.

Then he sees Jesse.

And everything stops.

Jesse is soaked in blood. His arms are trembling. And in them, slumped and broken, is you.

Joel doesn’t recognize you at first.

Your head lolls back. Hair matted with blood. Face unrecognizable—swollen, bruised, sliced. There’s something wrong with the way your arm hangs, like it’s not attached right. One of your boots is gone. Your jacket is torn and soaked through.

Joel’s stomach drops. His vision narrows.

“No,” he hears himself whisper.

Jesse pushes through the crowd, shouting— “I need help! She’s still breathing! She’s alive!”

Joel moves to intercept, chest heaving, but Jesse shoves past him, too focused.

“Get outta the fuckin’ way—Maria! Get a goddamn stretcher!”

Joel follows, dazed. “What happened?” he croaks. “Jesse—what the fuck happened?!”

Jesse’s voice breaks. “They jumped her, man. Out past the old checkpoint. One of ‘em—she knew who she was. Said her name. Said your name.”

Joel goes still. The cold wraps around his spine.

“Who?” he demands.

Jesse doesn’t answer.

They reach the clinic. The doors slam open. Jackson’s medics rush forward, shouting over each other, hands everywhere, lifting you from Jesse’s arms and onto a gurney.

Joel sees your blood smear Jesse’s jacket.

“Ribs are broken—she’s lost a lot of blood—”

“Shoulder’s out—maybe punctured lung—”

“She’s going into shock—get the morphine now—”

Joel doesn’t hear the rest.

He’s stuck.

His boots feel nailed to the floor as the doors swing shut behind the gurney.

You’re gone. Out of his reach.

And he wasn’t there.

He always told himself he wouldn’t let it happen again—not to Ellie, not to Tommy, not to you.

But he did.

He let you go.

He let you go out there alone, and now you’re somewhere behind those doors fighting to stay alive because of something he did. Something he caused. A ghost from his past, lashing out in a way he never saw coming.

Jesse is breathing hard, leaning against the wall, blood on his face and hands.

“I shot her,” he mutters. “The woman. Whoever she was. I killed her. Killed the others too. But I—” he swallows. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

Joel can’t even respond. His throat won’t work. His hands are fists at his sides.

All he can do is stare at the closed doors, heart pounding like war drums.

You’re in there.

And he’s out here.

Alone.

Again.

The machines are the only things making noise.

Soft, steady beeps. A faint hiss of oxygen. The occasional rustle of gauze or plastic as the nurse changes your IV bag in silence. Joel barely hears any of it.

He hasn’t moved in hours.

He’s sitting beside your bed—hands clasped tight between his knees, boots planted on the cold floor, head down. Watching your chest rise and fall.

You look… barely human.

Your face is swollen on one side. Purple, green, black. Stitches across your temple. Your arm is bound to your side, shoulder reset. Tubes in your nose. Dried blood crusted beneath it. A faint line of bruises runs along your throat like a cruel necklace.

Joel stares at your hand resting on the sheets. There’s an IV in it. A splint along your wrist. He hasn’t touched it yet. He’s too afraid you’ll be cold.

Or worse, that you won’t squeeze back.

He swallows hard. His eyes sting. But he won’t cry.

Not here.

Not where people can see.

The room clears eventually. Nurses change shifts. Jesse came by once—left you a cup of water and a little stuffed bear someone gave him when he was in the clinic for a busted ankle. Joel didn’t say much.

He just waits. And watches.

And breaks.

He doesn’t talk out loud at first.

For the first few hours, Joel just sits in it. Lets the silence crawl under his skin and stay there. He thinks of everything he could’ve done differently. Should’ve done. Would’ve done—if he’d known.

Shouldn’t’ve let you go out alone.

Should’ve been the one on that route.

Should’ve recognized the signs.

Should’ve told you to stay.

Should’ve told you the fucking truth.

Eventually, the silence gets too loud, and the guilt starts to spill.

“I should’ve been out there,” he says, voice rough and too quiet. “You should’ve never been alone.”

You don’t move.

Joel glances at your face. You’re still far away. Too far.

“I think she was lookin’ for me,” he adds, words slow like he’s choking on each one. “The one Jesse killed. She said my name.”

He runs a hand over his face, jaw tight.

“I don’t know what I did to her. But I’ve done enough to enough people that it don’t matter. It always comes back around.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. For a second, he looks older than he’s ever felt. Like the weight of the whole damn world is back on his shoulders.

“I told myself I’d never let someone I love get hurt again,” he whispers. “Not like this. Not like Sarah. Not like Ellie. But here I am. Sittin’ in another fuckin’ hospital chair. Watchin’ you fight for your life.”

Joel swallows hard. His hands shake.

“You didn’t even know her name,” he says. “You got all that pain and blood for someone you didn’t even know.”

He finally reaches out and brushes your hand with the back of his fingers.

It’s warm.

Barely.

He’s trying to stay strong. Like he always does. For Tommy. For Ellie. For Jackson. For you.

But there’s a crack in him now—and it’s spreading.

He rubs a hand over his face for the fifth time in an hour, like he can scrub the emotions away if he just tries hard enough. But his breath catches when he looks at you again.

You’re so still.

Too still.

And he can’t stop seeing the blood. The way Jesse held your body like it might fall apart in his arms. The way your fingers didn’t move when Joel reached for them. The bruises. The silence. The stillness.

He blinks fast. Looks down. Jaw clenched so tight it hurts.

But then—

A sound slips out of him.

Small.

Involuntary.

Like a wounded animal.

He squeezes his eyes shut, like that’ll hold it in.

It doesn’t.

His chest heaves, and the breath that comes next is a sob.

Low. Broken. Shameful.

“Goddamn it,” he rasps, pressing the heel of his hand against his mouth. “Goddamn it…”

The tears come slow at first—hot and silent. Rolling down his face before he can stop them. He hides behind his hand, hunched over, shoulders shaking.

It’s not loud. Not the kind of crying that screams.

It’s the kind that hurts more because it doesn’t.

He leans forward, elbows on your bed, forehead resting gently near your arm.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, voice thick. “I should’ve been there. Should’ve known. You were just tryin’ to help. And I left you out there…”

Another sob claws its way out of his throat.

“I’m so goddamn tired of losin’ people,” he chokes. “But if I lose you—if you don’t wake up—I swear to God, I don’t think I’ll survive it this time.”

He breaks fully then. Quiet, ugly, aching. Like his soul is caving in on itself.

It’s been years since he cried like this. Since Sarah. Maybe not even then.

Because this time… he let himself love again. He let himself believe he could have something good. That maybe, just maybe, someone could love him back.

And now you’re lying here—broken, because of him.

He stays there, folded in on himself, for a long time.

Holding your hand.

Letting himself fall apart where no one else can see.

It starts with sound.

Dull and warped, like you’re underwater. You can’t tell what’s real—what’s dream or memory. There’s pressure in your head, a deep ache in your chest, and something burning in your shoulder every time you try to breathe too deep.

You want to move.

You can’t.

Everything is wrong.

You try to blink, but your eyelids feel like they’re glued shut. Even thinking is hard. Like someone filled your skull with cement and let it dry.

Voices blur in and out. Someone’s crying, maybe. Or maybe that was just you.

Then—

A voice cuts through the fog.

Rough. Southern. Familiar.

Low like gravel and thunder.

“…can’t do this again…”

You try to move toward it. Just a twitch. Just your fingers.

Nothing.

“…can’t lose her…”

Your heart trips in your chest.

You know that voice.

Joel.

God—Joel.

You try to say his name, but your throat won’t cooperate. It’s raw. Like you swallowed glass.

More words. Barely audible. Like he’s talking to himself.

“…should’ve never let her go alone…”

There’s something about the way he says it—like he’s crumbling. Like he’s been holding himself together by nothing but spit and string and your heartbeat. You can feel it in the air. The weight of him. Heavy. Exhausted.

You blink again.

This time, your eyes open a sliver.

The room is dark. Dim light from a lamp in the corner. The shadows are soft. The world is blurry, like it’s behind a veil.

Joel is sitting beside your bed, hunched over with one hand pressed to his face. Shoulders shaking just slightly.

He doesn’t see you looking.

You try again. Just a whisper. Just his name.

“J…Joel…”

It’s barely sound. More like a breath shaped around a memory.

But he hears it.

His head jerks up. Eyes wild.

“Hey—hey, hey,” he breathes, scrambling to sit forward. “You—you awake? Baby, can you hear me?”

You manage a twitch of your fingers. Barely.

He lets out a noise like relief and agony all tangled together. One hand cups the side of your face, trembling like he can’t believe you’re real.

“You’re alright. You’re here. Jesus Christ…” He sucks in a breath like it hurts.

You blink again. His face is red, tear-streaked. His beard’s thicker than you remember. His eyes look like he hasn’t slept in days.

Your lips part.

“You okay?” you rasp, barely audible.

Joel lets out a sharp exhale that’s half a sob, half a laugh.

“Am I—? No, darlin’. Don’t ask me that,” he says, brushing your hair back from your forehead so, so gently. “You’re the one lyin’ in a goddamn hospital bed lookin’ like you got trampled by a fuckin’ truck. You askin’ me if I’m okay…”

Your eyes flutter. You want to smile, but it hurts.

“Didn’t mean to worry you,” you whisper, a flicker of humor in your broken voice.

Joel closes his eyes like that hurts worse than anything else.

“You didn’t worry me. You near killed me,” he murmurs. “Don’t say sorry. Not to me.”

You shift slightly—just enough to let the pain remind you it’s all real. The weight of your body. The ache in your bones. The bruises singing beneath your skin.

The flashes come in bits and pieces— The dirt. The hammer. Her voice.

You shiver.

Joel notices. He wraps his hand around yours instantly, warm and grounding.

“She’s dead,” he says, like he can read your mind. “Jesse shot her. She won’t hurt you again.”

You blink, slow.

“I didn’t… even know her,” you whisper.

Joel nods, jaw tight. “But she knew you. Knew me. That’s all it took.”

Silence falls again. You can feel your body begging you to sleep—but you don’t want to. Not yet. Not while he’s here.

Joel leans in closer. His voice drops.

“I love you,” he says, rough and low, like it’s been sitting on his tongue for years. “You hear me?”

You blink slowly. Nod once.

“I love you, too,” you rasp, and it hurts—but it’s worth it just to see the way his eyes close like he’s praying.

He presses your hand to his mouth and stays there. Quiet. Breathing with you.

You fall asleep with his fingers laced through yours, the echo of his voice still in your ear.

And this time, you know you’ll wake up again.

Because Joel’s here.

And he’s not letting go.

The days bleed together at first.

Morning and night don’t mean much when your body refuses to do even the simplest things. Breathing hurts. Talking drains you. Moving? Feels impossible.

Still—Joel is always there.

He helps you sit up the first time, cradling your spine like it might splinter in his hands.

You cry. Not from pain—but from the humiliation of it. Of being this weak. This… broken.

“Hey,” he murmurs, brushing tears from your cheeks before they fall. “You ain’t broken. Just healing. There’s a difference.”

You don’t believe him, not yet.

It takes a week before they let you leave the clinic. Joel argues to bring you home earlier, but the nurses insist on waiting until your fever passes and your oxygen holds steady.

When they finally wheel you out in a battered chair, Joel’s already waiting on the porch with a blanket, a flask of weak tea, and that look in his eyes—the one that never left from the moment he saw Jesse carrying you in.

Wrecked. Quiet. Protective.

He carries you inside like he’s afraid the wind might steal you away.

You sleep in his bed.

He insists.

“Only place in the house that don’t creak,” he grumbles.

He sits with you through the worst of it.

The fever sweats hit first—cold and sudden, leaving your body trembling under damp sheets while your teeth chatter like glass. Joel is always there before you even call out. A towel in one hand, a water cup in the other, his voice low and steady as he presses cool cloths to your forehead.

When the spasms start—violent jerks that rip through your legs, your healing ribs—he doesn’t flinch. Just slips his hand beneath your shoulder blades, murmuring your name over and over like it might steady your spine.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, voice like warm gravel. “I got you. I got you, sweetheart.”

Some nights, you wake screaming.

No build-up. No warning.

Just full-body panic, lungs dragging in air like you’re drowning, fingers clawing at invisible restraints. You don’t know where you are. Can’t tell what’s real. You think the hammer’s still coming down. You think the dirt’s still in your mouth. You think you’re still dying.

And Joel—he’s already there.

“Hey, hey—it’s just me,” he says, voice low, hands up like he’s approaching a wounded animal. “You’re home, baby. You’re safe. I got you.”

You sob. You shake. You try to get the words out, but your throat won’t work.

So he climbs into bed behind you, pulls you back against his chest, and just holds you—one hand wrapped around your middle, the other cradling your hand against his heart.

You cry until your body gives out. Until all that’s left is soft hiccups and a shaking breath that finally, finally goes still.

Other nights, it’s worse in its quiet.

You don’t scream.

You just… tremble.

Eyes open, unfocused. Breath shallow. Hands clenched in the sheets so tight your knuckles go white. Frozen in place like your mind’s trapped somewhere your body can’t follow.

Joel notices right away.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just slides into the bed, lays on his side, and touches your back—light and slow, letting you feel the weight of his palm so you remember where you are.

“You with me?” he whispers, after a while.

You nod.

But then the whisper comes, cracked and pitiful, over and over again like a broken record:

“I didn’t know her. I didn’t know why.”

Joel squeezes his eyes shut, face buried in your hair.

Every time you say it, it cuts deeper. Not because you’re admitting something—but because you’re still carrying it. Still shouldering it.

He holds you tighter.

“I know,” he always says. “I know, baby. I’m so sorry.”

And it’s not just for what happened. Not just for the pain, or the bruises, or the sleepless nights.

He’s sorry for letting you walk out that gate.

He’s sorry for not telling you about his past. About the ghosts that still walk, still kill, still reach for the people he loves.

He’s sorry he wasn’t the one who took that beating.

And if he could take it from you—every scream, every scar, every ounce of fear—you know he would.

You feel it in the way he holds you.

Like you’re something he’s not just afraid to lose—

But something he knows he doesn’t deserve, and still begs the universe to spare.

Recovery isn’t linear.

It’s a jagged, crawling thing—three steps forward, two steps back, and a whole lot of days where it feels like you’re going nowhere at all.

You’re angry. A lot.

At your body, for not doing what it used to. For aching with every movement. For stiff joints and a limp you can’t shake. For how the skin around your shoulder pulls where the sutures were. For how even breathing sometimes feels like a betrayal.

But mostly, you’re angry at your face.

The first time you see it clearly in the mirror, you can’t look for more than a second.

The swelling is down now, but the bruises are stubborn. Deep. Sickly yellow in some places, dark red in others. One scar stretches along your temple in a jagged, cruel arc. Another bisects the curve of your lip.

You touch the stitches near your jaw with shaking fingers.

You barely recognize the reflection.

You drop the mirror on the counter and leave the room. You don’t talk for the rest of the night.

Joel notices. Of course he does.

But he doesn’t push.

He never does.

When you snap at him for standing too close, he just nods and gives you space. When you burst into tears halfway through trying to button a shirt, he wordlessly takes over—finishing each button with patient fingers and no pity in his eyes.

He carries you to the bathroom when you’re too weak to walk. Sits on the floor while you shower with your back to him, hands braced against the tile as the hot water runs over scars you don’t want anyone to see.

But he never stares. Never comments.

When you nearly collapse trying to shave your legs, you snap, “This is fucking pointless, Joel!”

He just gently eases the razor out of your hand and says, “Ain’t nothin’ pointless ‘bout feelin’ like yourself.”

And when you do finally cry into his chest again, fists clenched tight in his shirt, he just holds you and lets you fall apart.

“You don’t have to be okay every second,” he murmurs into your hair. “Just let me carry some of it when you can’t.”

He reads to you at night.

Old books. Short stories. Sometimes old letters he found in a busted file cabinet out near the edge of town—ones he thinks you might like. You fall asleep most nights to the sound of his voice and the weight of his hand resting over yours.

One day, weeks into your recovery, you catch your reflection by accident.

It’s late. You’re in the bathroom, brushing your teeth slowly, shoulders aching from using the cane all day. You glance up—and there you are.

Scarred. Pale. Tired.

Not you.

You stare at your reflection for a long time, toothbrush hanging loose from your hand.

Then you step out into the bedroom, where Joel’s sitting on the edge of the bed, unlacing his boots.

“Do I still look like me?” you ask, voice small. Barely audible.

Joel doesn’t even hesitate.

He looks up. Straight at you. And his expression is… soft. But unflinching.

“You look like the woman I was gonna spend the rest of my life with,” he says, steady and sure. “You still do.”

Your breath hitches. Your lips part—but no words come out.

He stands, steps closer, careful like he always is now.

“You think those scars make you look less like you?” he asks gently, brushing your hair behind your ear. “'Cause all I see is you. Braver than anyone I’ve ever known.”

You look away. “You’re just saying that.”

Joel cups your face, thumb brushing just below the old bruise near your cheekbone.

“I ain’t never just said anything to you in my life,” he murmurs. “And I sure as hell ain’t startin’ now.”

Tears burn behind your eyes.

You don’t try to stop them.

He pulls you in close, and you let yourself be held—not because you’re weak. But because you’re strong enough now to know that being held doesn’t mean broken.

You’re healing.

Slowly.

But you’re still you.

And Joel sees all of it.

It’s a few weeks after you come home when Jesse finally stops by.

He knocks once—three quick raps, casual, almost sheepish—then pushes open the front door like he’s done a thousand times before.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, Joel’s sweatshirt hanging off one shoulder, your cane resting against the chair leg. There’s a blanket around your legs and a mug of tea gone cold beside your hand.

When you see Jesse, you try to smile.

“Hey, hero.”

He raises an eyebrow. “If I’m the hero in this story, we’re all fucked.”

You let out a soft laugh, which still pulls at your side. “Don’t sell yourself short. You saved my life.”

Jesse walks in with a brown paper bag clutched in one hand. “Brought you that soup you like. From the new kitchen down by the stables.”

You blink. “The mushroom one?”

He sets it in front of you. “You think I didn’t memorize your post-patrol cravings after all this time?”

You go quiet. The steam rises between you.

Jesse leans against the counter, arms crossed.

“You look better,” he says finally. “Still a little like a raccoon with PTSD, but you know… cuter.”

You snort. “You always did know how to charm a girl.”

The silence after stretches. Thicker. He doesn’t look at you at first—just stares at the edge of the table.

So you say it.

“I never thanked you.”

His jaw flexes. He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I mean it, Jesse. You… you showed up when I thought no one would. You put a bullet in her without hesitating. You carried me back. You—”

“I said don’t.”

You stop.

Jesse finally lifts his eyes to yours. His voice is lower now. Calmer, but shaking just underneath.

“Don’t thank me for doing what anyone who loved you would’ve done,” he says. “That wasn’t brave. That was… reacting. I saw what she was doing to you and I just—” He swallows. “I didn’t even think. I just fired.”

You blink, watching his hands clench into fists against his arms.

He exhales hard through his nose and looks away.

“I’ve never been that scared in my life,” he mutters. “Not even during the outbreak. Not even when the infected rushed us last winter. Nothing’s ever scared me like seeing you lying there, not moving.”

You’re quiet.

“I thought I was too late,” he says.

You shift in your seat. “You weren’t.”

His eyes meet yours again, darker now. “Joel didn’t talk for two days after. Did you know that?”

You shake your head slowly.

“Just sat there. Outside the clinic. Hands covered in your blood.” Jesse’s voice goes rough again. “I brought him water. He didn’t drink it. Brought him food. He didn’t touch it. I think if you had… if you hadn’t woken up—”

He stops. Runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re the only reason Joel didn’t break entirely,” he finishes.

You feel that. In your ribs. In your throat. In the parts of you that are still learning how to beat again.

Jesse looks at you for a long time, then pushes off the counter.

“So yeah. Don’t thank me.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“But…” he adds, more softly now, “you’re welcome anyway.”

He gives you a half-smile, ruffles your hair gently, and starts to head out.

At the door, he pauses and glances over his shoulder.

“You ever wanna talk about it… about her, or anything… I’m around.”

“I know,” you say.

And you do.

The world doesn’t stop hurting.

But it gets softer.

Months pass. Slowly. Some days feel like entire winters packed into the space between breakfast and sleep. But your body grows stronger. The cane becomes more accessory than necessity. The ache in your ribs dulls. You walk without flinching. You sleep without screaming.

You live.

One breath at a time.

Joel never leaves. He gives you space when you need it, patience when you can’t ask for it, and love in the quiet, steady way he does everything — with his whole damn soul, hidden behind a low voice and calloused hands.

You find yourself falling in love with him all over again, this version of him that isn’t trying to be a hero. Just a man.

Your man.

Spring comes early that year.

The snow thaws, the streams swell, and Jackson begins to bloom again — cautious and slow, like it’s remembering how.

That’s when Joel shows it to you.

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going—just helps you onto one of the horses and rides beside you for twenty quiet minutes, down a path behind the eastern fields.

You’re confused at first. Until you reach the end.

A clearing.

A hand-built bench nestled beneath a twisted old tree, branches just beginning to bud green again. A stream runs past it, water glittering in the afternoon light.

The view is breathtaking—wide and open, far from town. It smells like fresh grass and wild mint.

You slide off the horse slowly and limp toward it, one hand bracing against your thigh.

“You made this?” you ask, turning back.

Joel nods, standing with his thumbs tucked in his belt. “Started workin’ on it when you were still in the clinic.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, looking away like he’s embarrassed.

“Needed a place to talk to you. Where it was quiet.”

You sit down on the bench. It creaks under your weight, but it’s sturdy. Comfortable.

Joel lowers himself beside you and pulls something from his coat pocket.

A leather journal.

Worn edges. Filled thick with pages.

You frown. “What’s that?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just presses it into your hands.

You open the cover slowly.

The first page is dated the night Jesse brought you home, soaked in blood.

March 4th. She’s not waking up. I can’t stop thinking about what her last thought was. Was it me?

Your breath catches.

You flip to the next.

March 5th. She always hated the silence at night. I’m talking out loud to her anyway. Told her the whole story of how I saw her at the market the first time. I think I talked for an hour. If she can hear me, I hope she knows how beautiful she is, even now.

Page after page. Memories. Guilt. Confessions. Anger. Fear.

He wrote you letters he never planned to send. Pieces of himself you never knew he could give.

There’s a page with lyrics. Half-remembered ones.

"If I could save time in a bottle…"

The ink is darker there. Blotted in places. You realize he was crying when he wrote it.

Your hands tremble.

“Why give me this now?” you whisper.

Joel leans forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and steady.

“‘Cause I spent too long not sayin’ the things that mattered. You damn near died with me never tellin’ you half of ‘em.”

He looks over at you, eyes full of something raw and terrifyingly real.

“I wrote all that down ‘cause I didn’t think I’d get another chance. But I did. And I ain’t gonna waste a second of it.”

You blink back tears and look down at the last page.

Just two lines.

If I could save time in a bottle… I’d save every second I wasted not telling you how much I love you.

You close the journal and hold it to your chest.

Joel watches you for a moment. Then reaches out and takes your hand.

You let him.

The two of you sit in silence—shoulder to shoulder, fingers laced—listening to the stream and the wind in the trees.

And for the first time in a long time—

You don’t feel haunted.

You feel held.

AN: if you made it all the way here… first of all, I love you. second, I hope your heart is okay. this one meant a lot to me — I wanted to write something that felt like grief and healing holding hands, and Joel just being there in the most Joel way possible. soft hands, steady love, long recovery.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ MY ALCOHOL DIARY ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── now playing…

[ENG SUB] Luna’s Drunken Truths?🌙 A New Side You’ve Never Seen Before ✨🍻 [Nothing Much Prepared]

synopsis: Luna is here! Luna joins Youngji for some laughs, deep talks, and a few fun surprises on this episode of My Alcohol Diary.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ more interviews

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

Lee Youngji, in her typical lively fashion, was seen darting around her cozy apartment, her slippers barely keeping up with her hurried steps. The camera followed her movements closely as she rushed from one corner of the room to the other, adjusting chairs, straightening the table, and arranging food and drinks with a touch of anxious energy.

Plates of snacks, ranging from fried chicken to Korean side dishes, lined the table, all meticulously laid out. Bottles of soju, beer, and soda stood ready in perfect rows— except today, there was something a little extra on display.

Youngji glanced back at the neatly arranged bottles of red and white wine with a look that was half-pride, half-nervousness. “Ya, seriously, look at me. Expensive wine! Since when do I buy expensive wine?” She muttered to herself with a dramatic flair as her small crew, seated off at the front, watched her, biting back smiles.

“She looks like someone who drinks the good stuff, okay? She’s got that vibe. Like… luxury.” Her hand fluttered nervously over the bottles again, repositioning them for the third time.

One of the writers snickered, causing Youngji to spin around, her face an exaggerated mix of panic and excitement. “I’m not kidding! You all don’t understand. She’s… she’s intimidating! She hasn’t even arrived yet, and I’m already shaking. Hoshi warned me! He was here a few months ago, and I messaged him and asked him about her. You know what he said?” She paused dramatically, eyes wide, as though she were telling a ghost story.

The crew leaned in, intrigued by the suspense she was building.

“He told me,” she whispered, eyes darting to the camera as if someone might overhear her secret, “that she doesn’t drink beer because she doesn’t like the taste.”

This revelation was met with a burst of laughter from her crew. Youngji threw her hands up, pacing in front of the table. “Can you imagine?! I only had beer! What am I going to do? Should I just… drink by myself?” She exaggeratedly reached for one of the wine bottles and opened it, pouring herself a glass of white. She sipped, her brows furrowing slightly as she tasted the drink. "That's why I got this."

“I bought the expensive kind,” she said, swirling the glass. “You know why? Because she gives off that expensive vibe. Like… a black credit card kind of energy.” She raised her eyebrows as if to say, You know what I mean, before taking another sip.

“Ah, this is why I dressed up today! Look at me.” She gestured to her outfit— an unusually stylish ensemble compared to her usual casual attire. “I had to. I want her to like me! I mean, I usually just wear whatever I find first in my closet, but today? No way. I had to step it up.”

The staff erupted in laughter again, knowing full well that Youngji was half-joking but also genuinely nervous. She glanced at the camera again, then sighed dramatically, collapsing onto the couch, wine glass in hand. “I’m doomed. What if she doesn’t laugh at my jokes? What if she just stares at me with those intimidating eyes, and I crumble?” She covered her face with her hands for a moment, peeking out from between her fingers before groaning and sitting up.

“I swear, if she doesn’t like me, I’ll blame you guys,” she said, pointing accusingly at the staff. “You’re supposed to make me look good, and here I am looking like a nervous wreck.” She waved her arms dramatically, showcasing the haphazardly arranged table and the slightly cluttered apartment.

Her crew laughed again, and Youngji couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “Okay, okay, enough with the nerves. I’ve got this. Right?” She gave the camera a confident look, only to immediately second-guess herself. “No? You don’t think I’ve got this? Well, we’ll see.”

“No, I can do this,” she said, trying to hype herself up. “I just need to relax, right? Right. I mean, I’m Lee Youngji, damn it. I can make anyone laugh.”

The camera cut to a shot of her crew trying not to laugh too loudly as Youngji stared dramatically at her glass, muttering to herself once more, “Yeah… even Luna…”

With one last glance at the table, Youngji nodded to herself and turned back to the camera, her smile wide and her energy high.

“Alright, guys. Stay tuned. Because today… a princess is coming.”

Youngji, still buzzing with nervous energy, paced back and forth across the small living room as she adjusted the two large boxes of pizza on the table. She glanced at the red and white wine bottles once more, nodding to herself. "Okay, so we've got options," she muttered under her breath, pushing her hair back as she opened a drawer beneath the table.

With a swift motion, she pulled out a bottle of soju and— after a bit of rummaging— a bottle of gin.

"Just in case," she told herself as she placed them both down. She then turned to her crew, who had been quietly laughing at her antics from the sidelines. “I mean, what if she’s like, ‘Oh, I don't want to drink wine today,’ and then I look like a bad host? Can’t have that. So, variety!" She tapped the gin bottle with a grin. "This one’s a wildcard. I’ve never even had gin before.”

One of the writers laughed. “Are you gonna try it before she gets here?”

Youngji widened her eyes. "I mean… yeah, why not? Let’s see what we’re working with." She grabbed the gin bottle, twisting the cap open. The strong, herbal smell hit her instantly, making her reel back with an exaggerated grimace. “Woah! Okay! Wow, it smells like… it smells like it's gonna end me. This stuff smells dangerous.”

Her crew chuckled, egging her on as she poured a shot. With a deep breath, she threw back the shot, and her entire face contorted in an instant. She physically recoiled, her shoulders pulling in tight as she squeezed her eyes shut, barely suppressing a full-body shiver.

"Yeah, nope. That’s definitely strong," she gasped, blinking rapidly as she set the shot glass down on the table with more force than intended. “She’s definitely not going to like this. I mean, if she doesn’t like the taste of beer, this is gonna be a hard no.”

Just as she continued joking with the director about their drink options, the doorbell suddenly rang, cutting through the chatter.

Everyone froze.

There was a collective intake of breath from the crew as they turned toward the door, eyes wide.

Youngji’s eyes darted around the room before landing on the intercom on the wall. "Oh my god, she’s here! Guys, she's here!" she whispered, her hands flailing. In her excitement, she tripped over her own feet, catching herself on the back of the chair with a laugh. "Why am I like this?!"

Still panicking, she scrambled to the intercom, pressing the button to reveal a small screen showing a grainy video of Luna standing outside, waiting patiently at the door.

The camera zoomed in on Luna’s soft, bright features framed by her stylishly casual pink top, which showed off a glimpse of her effortless, chic vibe.

“Who is it?” Youngji asked, her voice playful, but she couldn’t hide the excitement.

“It’s Luna,” came the soft, melodic response from the other side, followed by a smile from the girl on screen. Luna’s face lit up with warmth as her voice echoed through the small apartment.

“Oh my god!” Youngji squealed before she dramatically slid down the wall in slow motion, as though the weight of meeting Luna in person had become too much to bear. Her crew burst into laughter, the room filling with their amusement as Youngji sat crumpled on the floor. “Why is she so pretty?! It’s not fair!” she wailed, covering her face with both hands.

Suddenly, as if struck by a lightning bolt of energy, Youngji shot to her feet and sprinted toward another room. “I need to put on perfume!” she yelled, disappearing into the hallway, her crew doubling over with laughter.

After a moment, Youngji reappeared, the perfume forgotten, trying to catch her breath. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself, and began to hum the chorus of “HOT” by SEVENTEEN as if to hype herself up. “Alright, let’s go!” she muttered, pacing back and forth again. “I’m fine… I can do this…”

She grabbed the gin bottle one more time, pouring another shot, and before she could second-guess herself, she downed it with a wince. “Nope. Still gross,” she whispered to no one in particular, her face scrunched up as she cringed once more. Shaking off the burn, she rushed toward the door.

“Who is it?” she asked again, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

There was a soft laugh from the other side. “It’s Luna. It’s me.”

Youngji, dramatic as ever, slid down the door this time, her body slowly crumpling to the floor in a display of exaggerated defeat as her crew lost it, their laughter echoing throughout the room.

After a moment, she finally gathered herself, stood up with a playful determination, and opened the door. "Hello!"

There, in the doorway, stood Luna, her radiant smile soft and welcoming. She was dressed in a pastel pink top, casually draped over a cropped white tube top, paired with light-washed jeans that hugged her figure effortlessly. Her hair fell in gentle waves, her expression relaxed yet excited as if she’d just stepped out of a fashion shoot without trying too hard.

Youngji blinked, her jaw dropping slightly as she took in the sight before her. “Oh, wow,” she whispered, not quite realizing she’d said it out loud.

As Youngji opened the door, her eyes quickly darted to the box Luna was holding, wrapped in simple, elegant paper with a delicate ribbon tied around it. Without a second thought, she reached out and gently fussed over the box.

“Oh, no, no, no— give that to me. You shouldn't be holding that!” Youngji exclaimed, reaching for the box, her tone full of concern. She took it from Luna’s hands, cradling it carefully, as if it were something fragile.

Luna chuckled softly, bowing slightly to the crew and waving at the camera with a warm, easy smile. "Hello, everyone!" she greeted, her voice lilting and sweet as she gave the camera a quick wave. She looked genuinely pleased to be there, her smile growing wider as the crew responded with a collective greeting.

While Luna faced the camera, Youngji couldn't help but admire her from the back. The way Luna carried herself was effortless yet graceful— her top hanging perfectly over her shoulders, the soft, pink fabric catching the light. Youngji's eyes traced the loose waves of Luna’s hair and how they cascaded down her back.

She sighed under her breath. "How is she this pretty, though?"

After Luna finished greeting the crew, she turned her attention back to Youngji, her smile never faltering. “Youngji, it’s so good to finally see you in person,” she exclaimed.

Youngji, caught off guard by her own admiring thoughts, blinked and smiled back. “I know, right? It feels like we’ve been trying to schedule this for forever! Come in, sit, sit!” she urged, motioning to the table. She gently placed the box she had taken from Luna on the table as Luna took a seat across from her.

Youngji’s curiosity piqued, she glanced at the box again and asked, "So, what's in here? Is it for me?" Her eyes sparkled with genuine excitement.

Luna nodded, her lips curling into a small smile. “Yes, it’s a gift. I wanted to bring something special since I’ve known I’d be coming on your show for a while now.”

With wide eyes, Youngji carefully opened the box, peeling back the ribbon and lifting the lid with anticipation. Inside, nestled carefully in soft tissue paper, was a stunningly beautiful set of plates, cups, spoons, and forks— each piece looked intricately designed, with delicate patterns running along the edges. The set had an unmistakable elegance, the kind that screamed of fine craftsmanship. The plates and cups shimmered subtly under the lights, the porcelain pristine and polished, accented by gold and silver trimming.

Youngji gasped loudly, her mouth falling open as she froze for a moment, simply staring. “No way!” she finally breathed out. “This is— this is beautiful!” She turned the box towards her crew, showing them the set, and instantly, the room erupted into murmurs of amazement.

One of the staff members leaned in to get a closer look, and their director let out a low whistle. "Wow, that looks expensive," one of them commented.

“It is!” Youngji exclaimed, her eyes still wide. “Luna, why would you give me something this pretty? I don’t deserve this!” She looked up at Luna, completely stunned.

Luna laughed softly, shaking her head. “I was in Paris for a schedule a few weeks ago, and I thought of you. I know you like hosting and cooking on your show, so I figured you might appreciate something like this. Plus, I love pretty cutlery and tableware myself,” she added with a grin, “so I thought you might enjoy it too.”

Youngji blinked, processing Luna’s words as she gently ran her fingers over the smooth surface of one of the plates. “Wait, so you’ve been planning this? You thought of me while you were in Paris?” She sounded both flattered and bewildered, her voice growing a little softer as she spoke.

Luna nodded earnestly. “Yes. I wanted to get you something meaningful, and I knew I’d be coming here, so I wanted it to be special.”

Suddenly, Youngji stood up from her chair, bowing deeply on the ground in a dramatic fashion. "Thank you so much. I feel so honored! I don’t think I’ve ever received something this thoughtful in my life!” She remained bent at the waist, her voice filled with gratitude.

Luna’s laughter filled the room, the sound light and full of warmth. “Youngji, you don’t have to bow like that!” she said between giggles, waving her hands. “It’s just a gift. I’m happy you like it.”

As Youngji straightened up, she grinned from ear to ear. “Like it? I love it! I’m never going to let anyone else touch these— ever. They’re going into a glass case!” She cradled the box as if it were a precious relic.

The room was filled with laughter as the two women continued to gush over the gift.

Youngji leaned back in her chair, her eyes glinting with playful curiosity. “Okay, okay, let’s start this thing right,” she said, clasping her hands together dramatically. “So, I heard from Hoshi…” she paused for effect, glancing at Luna as if to prepare her for the big reveal, “…that you don’t drink beer?”

Luna laughed, a little sheepish as she nodded. “Yeah, beer’s really not my thing. I don’t like the taste.”

With an exaggerated nod, Youngji clapped her hands together. “I knew it! That’s why,” she gestured toward the small bar set up next to them, “I prepared an assortment of drinks for you. I thought, you know, options! Since you’re not a beer girl.” She stood up, making a grand gesture as she presented the collection of spirits and mixers she had lined up.

Luna raised her eyebrows in surprise, genuinely impressed. “Wow, this is… a lot. You didn’t have to do all that.”

“I know, but you deserve it,” Youngji said with a wink. “So, let’s see what we’ve got here. There’s soju, white wine, red wine, even some gin.” She paused, her expression suddenly serious as she pointed at one of the bottles. “I tried the gin earlier, and, to be honest, I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.”

Luna, instead of shying away as Youngji had expected, tilted her head and smiled. “I think I’ll try the gin, actually.”

The room fell into a brief silence.

“Wait, really?” Youngji blinked in disbelief, holding the bottle like it might bite. “You’re sure? Gin’s pretty strong, you know…”

Luna nodded confidently, her calm demeanor unwavering. “Yeah, I’m sure. It’s fine.”

Youngji eyed her suspiciously, but with a shrug, she began to pour two shots into small glasses. “Okay, okay,” she muttered, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As the gin splashed into the glasses, Luna leaned back casually in her chair. “The only alcohol I don’t drink is beer,” she deadpanned, her voice so even and serious that it took a second for the joke to register. “And rubbing alcohol,” she added after a beat.

The room burst into laughter, including Youngji, who was nearly doubling over as she placed the gin bottle back on the table. “Oh my God, Luna, please!” she cackled, her voice high-pitched with mock of amusement. “You’re a comedian!”

Luna grinned, taking the glass from Youngji’s hand and raising it. “Cheers?”

Youngji straightened up and mirrored her, though her expression was still one of doubt. “Cheers!” They clinked their glasses together before tilting their heads back and downing the shots.

What shocked everyone in the room wasn’t Youngji, who immediately cringed and shuddered as if she had just been electrocuted— her whole body recoiling from the harsh bite of the gin.

It was Luna, who didn’t even flinch. She set her glass back down on the table without as much as a twitch, her face a picture of calm serenity, as if she had just taken a sip of water rather than a strong gin.

Youngji, still recovering, blinked at her in awe. “What the—” she stammered, her voice almost a whisper. “You didn’t even move!”

The crew let out murmurs of admiration, their eyes wide as they continued to marvel at Luna’s steely composure.

Luna laughed softly, raising her shoulders in a playful shrug. “What can I say? I’m just built differently.”

Youngji stared at her for a moment longer, completely shocked, before shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re scary, Luna,” she finally declared, making the crew chuckle. “Like, seriously.”

Luna’s laughter filled the room again, light and warm. “Oh, come on, I’m not scary!”

Youngji raised her hands, gesturing dramatically toward Luna’s cool composure. “This is exactly what I mean! Who takes gin like that? Scary.”

Luna shook her head, still smiling. “You’re too much.”

Wiping away an imaginary tear, Youngji straightened up in her chair and cleared her throat. “Alright, alright,” she began, transitioning the conversation with a more serious tone, “I just have to get this out of the way— because it’s been on my mind for a while.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, curious but smiling. “Oh? What is it?”

Youngji leaned forward, eyes narrowing playfully. “You… intimidate me,” she confessed with a laugh, though there was a slight hint of truth in her tone. “Like, seriously. I don’t know why, but I was so nervous before meeting you!”

Luna’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, her eyebrow lifting in amusement. “You’re not the first to say that,” she replied, her voice light and almost teasing. “I get that a lot, actually.”

Youngji’s eyes widened slightly as she sat back, looking genuinely surprised. “Really?”

Luna nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. Ever since I was younger, people would always tell me I gave off that vibe,” she explained with a shrug. “Even during my trainee years, people thought I was kind of… scary, I guess.”

Youngji tilted her head, clearly intrigued. “But, like, you’re so chill. Did that ever bother you? People thinking you’re intimidating?”

For a moment, Luna hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table as she considered the question. Then, she shook her head. “It used to when I was younger. It kind of got to me because I thought, ‘Why do people think that about me? I’m not like that at all.’” She paused, her voice soft but steady. “But I realized, you know, people are gonna believe what they want to believe. And usually, once they get to know me, that impression changes.”

Youngji nodded thoughtfully, absorbing Luna’s words. “So it doesn’t offend you anymore?”

Luna shook her head again, more firmly this time. “No, not really. I mean, it’s a part of life, right? First impressions aren’t always accurate.” She chuckled softly before glancing toward the cameras where the director and staff were sitting, her eyes twinkling with humor. “I’m not a scary person, I promise,” she called out to them, making everyone laugh. “My face just looks like this! It’s my resting face.”

Youngji burst out laughing, nodding in agreement. “See, this is why you’re dangerous! The duality!”

Luna couldn’t help but join in, her laughter filling the room as Youngji playfully fanned herself, pretending to recover from the “shock” of Luna’s words.

Youngji clinked her glass lightly against Luna's before refilling both their glasses with gin, the clear liquid sloshing in the light. She squinted at Luna mischievously, a playful grin pulling at the corner of her lips.

“Alright, Luna-ssi,” she said, leaning forward a little, eyebrows raised in faux suspicion, “I wanna hear some things about your drinking habits. What’s the deal? You don’t like drinking beer, but... for some reason like gin. What’s your alcohol tolerance, hm?” Her words came out with that infectious energy she was known for, her curiosity a mix of casual but always playful.

Luna, who had been comfortably sitting, looked amused at the question. She let out a light laugh, glancing down at the gin-filled glass in front of her. “Well,” she began, her voice thoughtful, “I don’t really like drinking that much. I guess you could say I’m more of a social drinker. I mean... I drink when it’s for occasions like this—” she gestured around to Youngji and the cameras. “—but I don’t usually go out of my way for it.”

Youngji leaned in closer, her eyes wide with exaggerated disbelief. “Oh come on, you have to give me more than that! What about your tolerance? You seem like you could hold your own.”

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Actually, I do have a pretty high alcohol tolerance.” She paused, taking the glass and swirling the gin around as if she were contemplating it deeply. “But... I’m going to be honest, I think this gin is going to end me tonight.”

That comment got a chorus of laughter from the crew, and Youngji burst into giggles, almost spilling her own drink in the process. “That’s what I thought!” Youngji exclaimed, slapping her knee. “Gin is no joke! It’s like... it’s like a slap in the face.”

Luna grinned, raising the glass to her lips but pausing to add, “But don’t get me wrong— I’m not saying I can’t handle it. It’s just... you know… It’s strong.”

Youngji dramatically recoiled back into her chair, waving her hands. “No, no. You’re too calm about this. If you’ve got a high tolerance, I’m scared for my own life now.” Her voice dropped in mock fear, and she glanced towards the crew with an exaggerated wide-eyed expression.

Luna deadpanned, looking Youngji squarely in the eye. “Youngji-ah... you’re not normal.”

Youngji cackled so hard she nearly fell out of her chair, grabbing the edge of the table for support as she doubled over in laughter. Her laughter was infectious, and soon, everyone in the room was laughing along with her, the absurdity of the situation settling over them like a warm blanket.

Still recovering, Youngji wiped a tear from her eye, shaking her head. “I—” she began, gasping for breath. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She held her hands up in surrender but was still chuckling. “I’ll tone it down.”

Luna just shook her head, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry about it,” she replied smoothly, her calm demeanor only adding to the comedic contrast of the situation. “I’m used to it. Besides, I work with thirteen guys. Crazy is... pretty much my normal.”

That comment earned another round of laughter from the crew, and even Youngji was back to cackling, clapping her hands. “Touché! Oh my God, you’ve definitely been through it.”

Luna gave a knowing nod, a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. “You have no idea.”

As the laughter died down, Youngji straightened herself in her chair, taking her glass of gin again. “Alright, alright,” she said, breathing deeply as if preparing for battle. “Here we go, another shot of gin— because I’m trying to be brave in front of Luna.”

Luna gave her a mock-serious nod like she was some kind of alcohol sensei. “Good luck,” she said solemnly, lifting her own glass. They clinked glasses once more and threw back their drinks, Youngji immediately cringing as the gin hit her throat.

“Aghhh!” Youngji exclaimed, shaking her head violently as the strong alcohol sent a wave of heat through her chest. “I’m... alive... but barely.”

Luna, on the other hand, took her shot like a pro, setting the glass down with a cool, calm expression. “Not bad,” she said casually.

Youngji stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “How are you so calm?! Do you not have taste buds or something? That was like drinking fire!”

Luna chuckled, but her expression remained almost too composed. “You just need practice,” she said, her voice light and teasing. The crew burst into laughter once again at her nonchalant attitude, while Youngji just pointed at Luna in mock accusation.

“You are terrifying. Absolutely terrifying,” Youngji declared, pretending to back away from her guest as if she were dangerous.

Luna finally let out a real laugh, shaking her head. “I promise, I’m not that scary,” she reassured her, though the grin on her face said otherwise.

“Well, Luna,” Youngji sighed, leaning back in her chair dramatically. “I think I’ve learned something today— never challenge Luna to a drinking contest.” She pointed at the camera as if issuing a public service announcement. “Don’t do it. You will lose.”

The two shared another laugh, the playful energy between them making the room feel alive.

Youngji leaned back in her chair, eyes sparkling with the mischievous curiosity that made her such a great host. “So…” she started, a playful tone creeping into her voice as she transitioned to English, “I heard you’re from London.”

Luna raised her eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Oh, you heard?” she teased. She knew this topic would come up eventually— it always did.

“Yeah!” Youngji exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat as she grabbed her glass for another sip. “I’ve been dying to ask you about that. So, you grew up in Kensington, right?”

Luna smiled warmly, nodding. “Yeah, I was born and raised there.”

Youngji’s eyes widened as if she had just been handed some earth-shattering news. “Kensington! That sounds so fancy! Isn’t that where all the rich people live?” Her tone was exaggerated, causing Luna to burst out laughing.

“It’s not that fancy,” Luna tried to downplay it, still giggling. “But yeah, it’s a nice area.”

Youngji leaned in dramatically, narrowing her eyes. “So, do you have that proper British accent? Like the ones in movies? Can you say something like—” she thought for a second, then added in the most over-the-top British accent she could manage, “Would you like a cup of tea, madam?”

Luna doubled over laughing, holding up her hand. “No, no, no— oh my God, that accent!” she exclaimed, barely able to get the words out. “That’s like… a parody of what people think British people sound like!”

Youngji grinned, not backing down. “Oh, come on! You gotta give me something! Is your accent like that?”

Luna shook her head, still laughing. “My accent’s softer now,” she explained. “It used to be a lot deeper when I was younger. Very English. But I’ve lived abroad so long now, it’s kind of… faded. Plus, I’ve been in Korea for years, so it’s not as strong as it used to be.”

Youngji’s eyes lit up with intrigue. “Ooooh, so you were, like, super British when you were little?”

Luna nodded, a fond smile crossing her lips. “Yeah, I was very much the stereotypical British kid— mummy can I have some more cake,” she said in a perfect British accent, throwing her hand up in an exaggerated way that made Youngji cackle in delight. “My mom loved to bake, so I would say that a lot.”

“There it is!” Youngji pointed at her, laughing. “That’s the accent I wanted to hear! You sounded like you just walked out of a Harry Potter!”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully. “I mean, it’s still there… when I’m really tired, frustrated, or angry, it comes out more.”

Youngji leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Okay, I have to hear you speak when tired then.”

Luna smirked, raising her glass. “Maybe after a few more drinks. We’ll see.”

Youngji grinned at the challenge. “I’ll hold you to that!”

They both clinked their glasses, and the atmosphere between them relaxed and filled with a playful energy.

“So, what’s it like growing up there?” Youngji asked, refilling Luna’s glass. “It sounds so glamorous.”

Luna shrugged casually, swirling the gin in her glass. “I mean, it was… nice, but it wasn’t all that different from growing up anywhere else, I guess. Except maybe the weather— it’s London, mostly gloomy. It rains a lot.”

Youngji scrunched her nose in mock disgust. “Oh no, I’d hate that. I need sunshine to survive.”

Luna laughed. “Yeah, me too! Gloomy weather makes me feel like I’m sick but I do miss it sometimes.”

Youngji tapped her chin, her eyes narrowing again as if something had just dawned on her. “Wait, does that mean you drank tea all the time? Isn’t that, like, a thing in the UK?”

Luna deadpanned, her voice dropping to a flat, mock-serious tone. “Yes. Tea is basically our water.”

Youngji burst out laughing again, clutching her stomach. “I knew it! I knew it was real!”

Luna grinned, shaking her head. “No, but seriously—everyone drinks tea. It’s a big deal.”

“Did you ever go to those fancy tea parties?” Youngji asked, still giggling.

Luna snorted. “What do you think, we all sit around in gowns drinking tea out of gold cups? It’s not like that!”

Youngji threw her head back laughing. “I was imagining you in one of those big hats and everything!”

“Yeah, no,” Luna chuckled. “It was mostly just normal attire with a cup of tea.”

Youngji wiped away a tear from laughing so hard, shaking her head. “Oh my God, you’re destroying all my British fantasies.”

“Good,” Luna said, raising her glass again. “Someone needed to.”

The two of them burst into laughter once more, the conversation flowing seamlessly between playful banter and genuine curiosity. Every now and then, Luna’s British accent would slip out, only to send Youngji into another fit of giggles as she begged her to keep talking like that.

Youngji, still giggling from their last exchange about tea parties, reached for the bottle of gin and poured them both another shot. “Okay, one more,” she said with a playful grin, raising her glass. Luna winced but smiled, nodding in agreement. They clinked their glasses together, and with a quick breath, they downed the shots.

Luna’s face immediately scrunched up as the gin burned its way down her throat. “Oh my God,” she groaned, setting her glass down as if it had personally offended her. “I’m starting to feel it.”

Youngji, equally as dramatic, smacked her lips, shaking her head in mock disbelief. “How do people drink this for fun?!” she exclaimed, fanning her face.

Luna laughed, “I don’t know… we are doing it right now though.”

Youngji burst out laughing again, slumping back into her chair. “Girl— you’re right, girl!”

Still recovering from the shot, Youngji tapped her fingers on the table, curiosity creeping into her expression. “So,” she began, “I’ve always wondered… Why did you want to become an idol? And how was it adjusting to moving to Korea?”

Luna took a deep breath, leaning back in her chair as she smiled a little to herself. “Honestly, it shocked me as much as anyone else,” she started. “I was a ballerina back in London, you know.”

Youngji’s eyes lit up, and she pointed at Luna with exaggerated confidence. “I know! You were!”

Luna couldn’t help but chuckle at how proud Youngji sounded, but she continued her story. “Yeah, so I was pretty set on becoming a professional ballet dancer. That was my world. But… when I was about thirteen, something weird happened.”

Youngji leaned forward, intrigued. “Weird how?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled with the memory, her voice becoming more animated. “I was doing a ballet recital, right? Performing in front of a big crowd like I usually do. And I was always laser-focused when I performed ballet— always. But that night… for some reason, as I was dancing, this… this urge came over me.”

Youngji’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “An urge?”

“To sing,” Luna said, almost dramatically, her eyes wide with disbelief, even as she remembered it. “In the middle of my ballet routine, I had this sudden urge to just start singing. Like, right then and there on stage. I had never felt anything like that before.”

Youngji’s mouth fell open in shock. “What?! You wanted to just burst out into song during a ballet performance?”

Luna nodded, laughing softly at the absurdity of it. “Exactly. I remember thinking, ‘What is going on with me? I’m supposed to be focused on this performance, and all I can think about is singing.’ That’s when I knew something was shifting.”

Youngji stared at her, mouth still agape before finally pointing at Luna again. “You’re insane,” she said, but with the utmost affection. “In the best way, though.”

Luna grinned, shaking her head. “I guess so. That’s when I started thinking seriously about singing and performing on stage in a different way.”

Youngji was still processing Luna’s unexpected revelation, but then her expression shifted, curiosity spiking again. “So… how did your parents react to all of this? Were they, like, cool with you just dropping ballet?”

Luna leaned back, taking a moment to think. “Well, at first, they were pretty hesitant— my mom especially since she’s a retired ballerina and she trained me. Ballet had been my life for so long, and they had supported me all the way. So when I told them I wanted to move to Korea and become an idol…”

Youngji gasped dramatically, leaning in with a hand to her chest. “Wait, you told them that straight up?! You didn’t slowly plant the idea in their head?”

“Yeah,” Luna laughed. “I was dead serious. They were pretty surprised, but once they saw how committed I was, they agreed. It wasn’t easy, though.”

Youngji nodded, still hanging on every word. “So when did you move to Korea?”

“When I was about fourteen,” Luna replied. “I stayed with my aunt for a while before I started training.”

“Fourteen?!” Youngji exclaimed. “That’s so young! Was it hard adjusting?”

Luna nodded thoughtfully. “It was really tough at first. Being away from home, mastering Korean— I knew a little Korean before moving here but it wasn’t perfect, so naturally I had to study. I had to balance school and training… it was a lot.”

Youngji’s expression softened. “But you had your members, right?”

Luna smiled warmly. “Yeah, I’m really grateful for them. They helped me adjust, especially Jeonghannie oppa.”

Youngji perked up at the mention of Jeonghan’s name. “Jeonghan-ssi? Really? Why?”

Luna nodded. “He was my first real friend when I got here. He kind of looked out for me and took care of me, made sure I wasn’t too homesick.”

Youngji’s eyes softened, a rare moment of calm on her usually excitable face. “That’s sweet.”

Luna chuckled. “Yeah, he’s pretty sweet.”

Youngji, not missing a beat, clapped her hands together and leaned in again, her usual energy returning. “Okay, but wait— did he help you learn Korean, or did he just make fun of you the whole time?”

Luna burst out laughing at the thought. “A bit of both, honestly. He definitely teased me a lot.”

“Of course he did. Teenage boys are like that.” Youngji deadpanned, shaking her head knowingly.

The two of them dissolved into laughter once again, the conversation shifting back to their usual playful banter.

Youngji, still smiling after Luna’s sweet mention of Jeonghan, leaned forward and asked, curiosity lighting up her face. “Okay, so what’s it like having thirteen guys around you all the time? It must be insane, unnie!”

She grabbed another piece of food from the table and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully as she waited for Luna’s answer. Luna, mirroring Youngji’s actions, took a bite herself, pausing for a second to gather her thoughts.

“It’s… honestly, it’s the best,” Luna said with a soft smile. “I feel really blessed to have them. They’re like… my family.”

Youngji’s eyebrows shot up dramatically, and she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Thirteen brothers? That’s, like, a sitcom waiting to happen!” she exclaimed, waving her chopsticks in the air.

Luna awkwardly laughed before nodding in agreement. “You could say that. But really, I’m so grateful that I met them.”

Youngji pointed her chopsticks at Luna, her eyes wide with exaggerated amazement. “Girl, you better be grateful! You’ve got a whole squad.”

Luna chuckled, leaning back in her seat as she reminisced. “I’m an only child, so growing up, I was used to being on my own. I loved it in a lot of ways, but… it was kind of lonely sometimes.”

Youngji raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Yeah, I bet. No siblings to steal your clothes or your food or fight over toys with?”

“Exactly!” Luna replied, laughing. “But it also meant I didn’t have that built-in friend growing up. I didn’t really have that many close friends in school either. I was… a little bit shy, I guess.”

Youngji gasped dramatically. “You? Shy?”

Luna nodded, her laughter more sheepish now. “Yeah, I was. I remember wishing I could have a lot of friends, people I could really trust, you know? And now… well, now I have thirteen best friends.”

Youngji’s jaw dropped again as if she had just heard the most unbelievable thing in the world. “Thirteen best friends… That’s so unfair,” she groaned, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. “I’m so jealous.”

Luna smiled softly, her eyes shining as she continued, “Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without them. Sometimes I think about it, you know? In another universe, maybe I didn’t audition, or maybe I didn’t end up in the final lineup… but I still feel like, somehow, I would have found my way to them. Even if it was just as a fan.”

Youngji let out a dramatic wail, sliding off her chair onto the floor as if Luna’s words had physically overwhelmed her. “Noooo! Why are you so sweet?” she whined, lying face-down on the ground, her hands covering her head as if she couldn’t handle the emotions.

Luna burst out laughing, pointing at Youngji flopped on the floor like a starfish. “What are you doing?” she giggled, her laughter echoing through the room.

Youngji peeked up from the ground, her face scrunched up in mock agony. “You’re so lucky! I want thirteen best friends too! Why don’t I have that?!”

Luna, still laughing, shook her head. “Well, you can start with me. I’ll be your first best friend.”

Youngji’s eyes widened like a child who had just been told they could have unlimited candy. “Really?!” she squealed, and then suddenly, she started wiggling on the ground, sliding up and down like a worm. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she chanted, her excitement bubbling over, making the camera crew in the room burst into laughter as well.

Luna was laughing so hard her stomach hurt, and between giggles, she pointed at Youngji. “Okay, stop! Get off the floor!” she said playfully, shaking her head in disbelief.

Youngji, still wiggling dramatically, finally let out a sigh of contentment and flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m jealous, but like, in the best way,” she declared with a dramatic wave of her hand. “You’re so lucky. Thirteen best friends… I’m still gonna say it’s unfair.”

Luna chuckled, combing her fingers through her hair. “Well, now you have me, so we’re off to a good start.”

Youngji sat up with a determined look in her eyes. “I’m starting my own best friend group. It’s gonna be epic.”

The crew continued to laugh as Youngji sat cross-legged on the floor, her hands on her hips as if she had just made the most important decision of her life.

As Youngji clambered back onto her seat, she dusted off her pants with exaggerated flair, earning a few chuckles from the crew. Settling into her chair, she reached for her drink, only for Luna to suddenly deadpan, “I must be getting tipsy… I don’t usually pour my feelings out like this.”

Her tone was so unexpectedly dry and serious that the entire room erupted in laughter. Even Youngji slapped the table, her shoulders shaking as she tried to catch her breath.

Luna blinked innocently, bringing her hand up to check her own cheeks for warmth. “Yeah, definitely getting warm…”

Youngji, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, snickered, “Oh no, if you’re getting tipsy, then I’m in serious trouble.” She leaned in closer, almost as if she was about to share a secret, “You know what this means? It’s time for a drinking game.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, watching curiously as Youngji turned towards the front of the set, where one of the crew members handed her something. Youngji grabbed it with a grin, bringing it back to the table like a prize she couldn’t wait to show off.

From behind her back, she revealed a toy: the Pop-Up Pirate game, except instead of the usual pirate figure in the barrel, it was a tiny Hello Kitty, and the entire barrel was painted pink with adorable little hearts.

Luna’s eyes lit up, a mixture of amusement and surprise flickering across her face. “That’s so cute!” she exclaimed, pointing at the Hello Kitty figure. Her attention was half on the game and half on the food still on her plate, absentmindedly eating as Youngji prepared the game.

Youngji was in her element now, the gin starting to take full effect as she chaotically began explaining the rules, her words coming out in a rapid, excited slur. “Okay, okay, here’s how it works. You stick the swords in the barrel—” she made a dramatic poking motion, “—and when Hello Kitty pops up? Boom, you gotta take a shot.”

Luna nodded slowly, processing the instructions as she chewed on her food, her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. Still mid-bite, she asked, “What does the winner get?”

There was a pause.

Everyone turned to look at her, including the crew, and they couldn’t hold back their laughter at how adorable she looked, her face stuffed with food, eyes wide with curiosity. “She’s so cute,” one of the staff whispered to another, and Youngji pointed at Luna, grinning like she’d found her new favorite thing.

“Bragging rights, obviously!” Youngji declared triumphantly, waving her hand as if that was the ultimate prize.

Luna simply nodded, her cheeks still full as she swallowed her bite. “Got it,” she said, her voice muffled but satisfied.

Youngji, still laughing under her breath, scooted some glasses out of the way, creating space in the middle of the table. With an overly dramatic flourish, she placed the pink barrel in the center, the little Hello Kitty bobbing slightly in its spot.

Youngji, with her trademark tipsy grin, raised her arms in the air like she was signaling a race. “Alright, let’s start!” she slurred excitedly.

Luna, still chewing quietly, gave a little “Ok” hand sign, her cheeks slightly puffed out with food, causing more chuckles from the crew.

Youngji wobbled a little in her chair before turning her attention to Luna, who was still chewing. “Since you’re the guest…” Youngji waved her hand dramatically toward the Hello Kitty barrel. “You go first!”

Luna, still in her quiet, focused state, swallowed her last bite and calmly reached over to the tiny pink sword resting on the table. She picked it up, inspecting it for a second before leaning in toward the barrel. She found an empty slot and gingerly inserted the sword into the opening.

The crew watched closely, but Hello Kitty remained safely inside.

“Ahhh, close one,” Youngji teased, her voice slurred as she pointed at Luna. “See? Beginner’s luck… but don’t worry, it won’t last.”

Luna simply smiled, staying quiet as she reached for another bite of food. It was now Youngji’s turn, and she stood up, suddenly all fired up. “Alright, alright. Watch this!��� she boasted, picking up her mini sword with exaggerated importance. “I’m, like, really good at this game. Haven’t lost once.”

The crew exchanged knowing glances, stifling their laughter, but Youngji didn’t notice. She rambled on, standing over the pink barrel. “See, the key is to—” But before she could finish her sentence, she slid her sword into the slot, and with a loud pop, Hello Kitty flew out of the barrel.

The entire crew burst into laughter, clapping and pointing at Youngji’s misfortune as she stood there frozen in shock, mouth open in disbelief.

Luna, meanwhile, glanced up at Youngji with her big doe eyes, still chewing quietly, almost like she was mentally asking, What was that?

The silence was broken when the crew started chanting, “Shot! Shot! Shot!” Luna bopped her head lightly to the chant, finding the whole situation far too amusing.

Youngji snapped back to reality, letting out a playful groan as she reached for the bottle to pour herself a shot. “Alright, alright, I get it. I lost,” she mockingly declared, waving off the crowd with fake defeat as she poured the drink. “I’ll drink, I’ll drink…”

Luna, having swallowed her bite by now, deadpanned, “Wah, Youngji, you really have bad luck.”

The crew erupted into even louder laughter, and Youngji scoffed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe the shade being thrown at her. “Yah! It’s not that! I told you, you’re just too lucky!”

Luna, with her perfect comedic timing, tilted her head slightly and responded, “It could be both.”

Youngji had barely raised the shot glass to her lips when Luna’s words hit, causing her to almost spit out her drink as she laughed. The sight of Youngji trying to keep it together only made the crew laugh harder.

Luna chuckled at the chaos she’d just created, clearly entertained by how easily her words had thrown Youngji off balance.

Youngji, still giggling from her last defeat, slapped her hands on the table and leaned toward Luna, her words slightly slurring. “Alright, round two. We’re doing another one!” She pointed dramatically at the barrel, her drunken determination shining through.

Luna smirked and nodded calmly, her coolness an amusing contrast to Youngji’s energetic chaos. “Sure,” she said, her voice even. “Let’s do it.”

They reset the barrel, and Youngji, with exaggerated concentration, handed Luna another pink sword. “You first,” she slurred, pretending to be gracious.

Luna inserted her sword into the barrel with ease, Hello Kitty remained still.

Youngji shot her a suspicious look, leaning in toward the toy. “This time for sure,” she muttered under her breath as she selected her own sword. She raised it above her head like it was a lightsaber. “Watch and learn,” she bragged, but her hand wobbled as she inserted the sword— nothing happened.

Luna, still calm, chose her next sword without much fuss, slipping it in.

Again, nothing.

Youngji was clearly trying to psyche herself up. “You know,” she said, slurring slightly, “I have a theory. I think this Hello Kitty likes me. That’s why she’s staying in, she doesn’t want to leave me.” She poked at the toy’s head playfully.

Luna bit back a smile. “Maybe you’re too nice. You should try being more firm with her.”

Youngji shook her head, picking up another sword. “Oh, no, no, no. It’s all about finesse.” She placed her sword into the barrel, her fingers barely grazing the surface as she bragged, “See, I—” But her sentence was cut off by the sudden pop of the toy, and Hello Kitty flew out, shocking them both.

The crew erupted in laughter again as Youngji froze in disbelief, her hands raised in surrender. “Noooo!” she cried, her voice dramatically slurred as she pointed accusingly at the barrel. “I swear this game is rigged.”

Luna calmly looked at her, then tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I don’t think Hello Kitty likes you that much,” she deadpanned.

The crew lost it, laughing even harder at Luna’s cool and dry delivery. Youngji’s jaw dropped, her hands flailing toward Luna as she exclaimed, “You— Luna… you’re too much.” She poured herself a shot as the crew continued to chant, “Shot! Shot! Shot!”

Luna sat back, watching the scene unfold, her smile subtle but growing as Youngji dramatically poured her drink. “You’re too lucky!” Youngji whined, shooting Luna a side-eye.

Luna leaned in slightly. “Or maybe,” she quipped, “you’re just that unlucky.”

Youngji snorted and almost choked on her drink. “It’s both,” she said between coughs, while Luna chuckled under her breath, clearly entertained.

Youngji, wiping her eyes from the laughter, looked at Luna with a sly grin. “Alright, alright, you won fair and square, but now… since you’re on a winning streak, you have to do something special for the viewers.” She leaned in conspiratorially, her tone dripping with mischief. “How about a little dance from SEVENTEEN’s new comeback song, ‘_WORLD’? Give the people what they want!”

Luna, mid-chuckle, raised an eyebrow in amusement, “You want me to dance now? Here?”

“Yes!” Youngji pointed at her dramatically, her words slurred with excitement. “You gotta show off for the audience. It’s what the fans want! Plus, you’re on a roll.”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully, “You just want to see me dance.”

Youngji waved her hands dismissively. “Noooo!” Then, leaning in, she added with a wink, “Okay, maybe a little. But you always look amazing, I swear!”

With a small laugh, Luna reached for her phone, scrolling quickly to find the song, and joked. “Fine, fine, but don’t blame me if this goes viral.”

As Luna pulled up the track, Youngji suddenly snatched an empty glass cup from the table. “Wait, wait, wait! Put your phone in here!” she exclaimed, slurring the words as she held the cup out.

Luna’s laughter bubbled up as she realized what Youngji was suggesting. “You want to make a makeshift speaker?”

“Exactly!” Youngji nodded vigorously. “Trust me, it’ll make it sound soooo much better.”

Giggling, Luna placed her phone in the glass, and the music immediately amplified, filling the room with the upbeat rhythm of ‘_WORLD.’ Youngji clapped her hands with delight. “See? I’m a genius!”

Luna shook her head in amusement, standing up from her seat. “Okay, genius. Let’s see if I can pull this off tipsy.”

With the song blasting from the cup-turned-speaker, Luna waddled over to the small open space next to the table. Her movements were playful and exaggerated as she shuffled, her hands spread slightly for balance, eliciting laughter from Youngji and the crew.

Youngji, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from the alcohol clapped loudly. “Luna! Luna!” she cheered, her slurred voice barely keeping up with the rhythm.

As the chorus hit, Luna’s body naturally found the beat. Though the space was small and her head was a bit light from the drinks, she danced with an effortless grace, keeping her movements lively but controlled. She twirled lightly, then shot smiles and winks toward the camera, her face lighting up with the same charisma she showed on stage during performances.

Youngji, her enthusiasm spilling over, hollered, “Oh! Yesss! That’s it! Kill it, girl!” Her hands flailed in the air as she danced along with the song, albeit off-key and with a few mumbled words spilling out of her mouth.

The crew joined in, cheering and clapping, egging Luna on. Luna made eye contact with one of the cameras and winked, her expression flipping into full performance mode as she hit the final moves of the snippet. Her smile never wavered, and her eyes gleamed with playful confidence as if she were on stage at a massive concert rather than in a cozy room with tipsy friends.

As the chorus ended, Luna slowed her movements, bowing with a flourish as the music continued softly in the background. The room erupted into applause, Youngji leading the charge with a loud, “Woooo!” She slumped back into her seat, still clapping like an overenthusiastic fan.

“You’re too good! Too good!” Youngji exclaimed between claps, her words slurring even more now. “I don’t know how you do it. If I were you, I’d have fallen on my face by now!”

Luna giggled, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you, thank you,” she said dramatically, bowing again. “But that was just me joking around.”

Youngji threw her hands up in mock disbelief. “Joking around?! Girl, that was perfection. I’m so jealous right now. I have a list now— I need thirteen best friends and your talent.”

Luna shook her head, laughing softly as she made her way back to the table. “You can have the best friends part, but the dancing? That’s all hard work.”

“Hard work and a little magic,” Youngji slurred, pouring herself another drink. She raised the glass toward Luna, still basking in the afterglow of the impromptu performance.

The crew chuckled at the toast, and Luna, a bit bashful, held up her glass in return. “I’ll take that,” she said with a grin. “Thank you, Youngji.”

They clinked glasses, Youngji still humming the melody of ‘_WORLD’ under her breath, completely content as Luna sat back down, feeling a little more lighthearted and relaxed.

Youngji, still buzzing from Luna’s impromptu performance, leaned forward with a playful grin. Her words came out slurred but full of curiosity. “Okay, okay, I gotta know,” she said, waving her hand dramatically in the air. “How do you do those killer facial expressions? Like… when you perform, you’re so good at it! Do you… like… practice in front of the mirror or something?”

Luna, who was nibbling on her pizza, chuckled softly and shook her head. “It’s not something I practice on purpose, really. I think it’s a talent I didn’t know I had, but it actually comes from ballet.”

“You do facial expressions in ballet?” Youngji repeated, eyes wide in drunken fascination. “Like… swan stuff?”

Luna nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, exactly. Facial expressions are really important in ballet. You have to convey a lot of emotion with your face because there’s no speaking. I think I just got used to emphasizing that, and when I perform with SEVENTEEN, it’s kind of second nature.”

Youngji stared at her, processing the information through her tipsy haze. “So… when you’re dancing, all those expressions… it’s like, fun for you? Like you enjoy making those faces?”

Luna nodded. “Yeah, it’s actually really fun. I think it helps relay the message of the song better. It’s one thing to dance, but if your face tells the story too, it’s more impactful.”

Youngji nodded vigorously. “Totally. Totally. So, like… what’s your favorite kind of expression? Like, do you like the cute stuff, or…?”

Luna laughed, glancing at her hands for a moment before answering. “I’m actually not that good at cute expressions,” she admitted, her voice a little shy. “I prefer the sexy, more mature, and cool looks.”

Youngji gasped in mock outrage. “Not good at cute?! Are you kidding? You’re, like, naturally cute! You literally proved that earlier when you danced!”

Luna couldn’t help but laugh again, nodding her head as she humored Youngji. “Thank you, I guess,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“No, seriously,” Youngji insisted, her eyes wide with sincerity. “I’m telling the truth! You’re cute and sexy— it’s unfair!” She slapped the table lightly, the alcohol clearly fueling her exaggerated emotions.

Luna shook her head, still chuckling. “Okay, okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

But Youngji wasn’t done. With a sudden burst of energy, she clapped her hands. “Show us again! Show us those cute facial expressions while you dance. Come on, just one more time!”

Luna rolled her eyes playfully, though she was clearly enjoying the teasing. “What song should I play, then?” she asked, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her playlist.

Youngji thought for a moment, her face scrunched up in concentration. Then, as if a lightbulb had gone off, she shot up from her seat, clapping her hands together. “Oh! ‘Pretty U’! ‘Pretty U’! You have to do that one!” she shouted, pointing at Luna with wild excitement.

Luna raised an eyebrow, but she couldn’t suppress the smile creeping up on her lips. “‘Pretty U’? Really?”

“Yes!” Youngji slurred, nearly tripping over her own enthusiasm. “It’s perfect!”

With a cool nod, Luna found the song, played it, and once again placed her phone in the glass cup. As the music started, she stood up and stretched slightly, her movements slow and exaggerated as she prepared herself. “I’m really not good at cute expressions, you know,” she murmured under her breath as she walked back to the small open space.

Youngji, already swaying to the melody, slurred in disagreement. “Lies! Lies, I tell you! You perform this song so well! You’re gonna be adorable!”

Before Luna could start, Youngji held up a hand. “Wait, wait! You need a shot for more confidence!” She grabbed the bottle and poured a generous shot, handing it to Luna with a wide grin.

Luna burst out laughing, but she took the shot, downed it, and nodded at Youngji. “Alright, fine. Let’s see how this goes.”

As the bright, bubbly chorus of ‘Pretty U’ began to play, Luna shifted her demeanor. Her expression softened, a bright smile breaking across her face as she danced along to the chorus, the usual choreography mixed with over-the-top cute facial expressions. She batted her eyelashes toward the camera, made exaggerated heart signs, and even puffed her cheeks as she twirled lightly in the tiny space.

Youngji and her crew erupted into cheers and laughter, clapping wildly as Luna continued to dance. “You’re so cute!” Youngji shouted, her voice cracking from the sheer enthusiasm. “Yes, Luna, yes!”

As the chorus ended, Luna spun around and faced Youngji, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “Happy now?”

Youngji, now standing on her seat, clapping like an excited seal, nodded furiously. “Bravo! Bravo!” she shouted, her hands slapping together in rapid succession. “You nailed it, girl! I knew it!”

Luna, unable to contain her amusement, doubled over in laughter at the sight of Youngji standing on her chair, her face red with intoxicated excitement. “This is… you’re too much,” Luna giggled, shaking her head as the crew continued to cheer her on.

Youngji, still clapping and bouncing slightly on her chair, repeated, “Bravo!” in a slurred voice, clearly having the time of her life as Luna continued to laugh at the ridiculous scene unfolding before her.

Youngji, still high from the energy of Luna’s previous performance, wasn’t ready to let her off the hook. “Okay, okay, but now,” she slurred, eyes gleaming with excitement, “you gotta do your smirking, flirty face. You know the one I’m talking about!” She attempted a seductive smirk herself but ended up giggling at her own drunken attempt.

Luna was still laughing from Youngji’s dramatic cheering, but she played along. “Am I here to perform for you?” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Should I play ‘HOT’ then? I feel like that’s the right vibe.”

Youngji’s reaction was immediate. She threw her hands up in the air, nearly tipping over on her chair. “Yes! ‘HOT’! Play it! That’s perfect!” she slurred with an exaggerated nod, her eyes wide with excitement.

With a cool, playful grin, Luna nodded and began scrolling through her playlist again, quickly finding the song. She placed her phone back into the makeshift glass speaker, the familiar intro of their song ‘HOT’ filling the room.

As the beat thumped through the small space, Luna shuffled back to the tiny open area, preparing herself. She glanced at Youngji, who was practically bouncing on top of her seat with anticipation. The chorus was nearing, and Luna’s demeanor shifted. Her playful expression turned more intense, eyes narrowing slightly as a slow, confident smirk spread across her lips.

Then, the chorus hit, and Luna moved effortlessly into the choreography of ‘HOT’, her body swaying with purpose. This time, instead of the playful cuteness, she exuded pure confidence, every movement sharp and deliberate. Her eyes locked with the camera, and there it was— that signature smirk that had fans going wild during SEVENTEEN’s performances. It was flirtatious and cool as if she knew exactly the effect she was having on anyone watching.

Youngji’s cheers grew louder. “Yes, Luna! That’s it! Work it! Girl crush, girl crush!” she yelled, practically shaking the chair as she stood on it, barely keeping her balance.

The crew joined in, clapping along and hyping Luna up as she danced, her expression never faltering from that seductive smirk.

Luna gave it her all, despite the limited space, the teasing expressions adding to the sultry energy of the song. Her hands moved in sync with the choreography, her movements fluid, and her eyes held that playful glint throughout the performance. It was as if she was commanding the entire room with just a look.

As the chorus came to a close, Luna slowed her movements, landing in a final pose with a flick of her hair and a wink at the camera, her smirk still intact. She let the last beat of the chorus fade out before straightening up, her cool expression breaking into a wide grin.

The room exploded in applause. Youngji, completely losing it, began clapping like a seal again, still standing on her chair, swaying dangerously. “Girl crush! You’re my girl crush!” she screamed, her voice cracking but filled with affection. “You’re so cool! How are you so cool? I’m in love!”

Luna, laughing at Youngji’s loud declaration, waved her hands in mock modesty. “Alright, alright, calm down!” she teased, unable to stop grinning at Youngji’s over-the-top reaction.

Youngji wasn’t having it though. She threw her hands up again, this time almost losing her balance. “No, seriously! You’re my girl crush! That was so hot!”

Luna could only laugh harder, holding her stomach as the crew joined in on the fun, clapping and cheering in agreement with Youngji. It was clear that the mood in the room was infectious, the playful energy carrying them through the rest of the night.

Luna slumped back into her seat, dramatically wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. “Okay, enough dancing,” she mock-panted, shooting Youngji a playful look. “I swear, one more move and I might black out.”

Youngji was still laughing and clapping like an overexcited fan, her voice slurring as she said, “Nooo, I can’t help it! I have a crush on you!” She repeated it, slurring the words, “I have a crush on Luna!” with the goofiest grin.

Luna giggled at her new friend’s antics before deadpanning, “Youngji… are you okay?” She raised an eyebrow, watching Youngji as she struggled to pour them another shot without spilling the soju. “You need to stop drinking,” Luna teased but held out her glass anyway, accepting the next round.

They clinked their glasses together with a loud clank, and both of them downed the shot. Youngji, eyes now heavy but still bright with mischief, turned to her and slurred, “Are you still okay, my crush?”

Luna tilted her head and took the shot with no reaction, her face entirely calm. “I’m almost there,” she said smoothly. “Tipsy, but still here.” She couldn’t help but laugh afterward, leaning forward slightly, “So, ‘my crush,’ huh? Is that what you’re calling me now?”

Youngji nodded furiously, her words tumbling out incoherently. “Yes, yes! My crush! You’re so cool, like— so cool.” Her eyes sparkled with admiration, the alcohol amplifying every bit of sincerity in her voice.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head at the adorable mess in front of her. “Okay, okay, your crush,” she played along, her tone light and teasing.

But Youngji wasn’t done. She wiped at her eyes dramatically, looking as serious as she could muster under her drunken haze. “I like people with duality, you know? People who can be both cute and sexy. Do you— do you have a celebrity crush?” She leaned in, her interest suddenly piqued.

Luna shook her head, still smiling. “Not really into real people like that. Honestly,” she answered, “most of my crushes have been on fictional characters from movies, shows, or books.” She laughed softly, remembering her own obsessions.

Youngji’s eyes widened, and then, as if she had just recalled something groundbreaking, she clapped her hands together loudly, nearly knocking her shot glass over. “Wait! I heard you have the biggest crush on Loki from Marvel!”

Luna couldn’t help but burst into laughter, clapping her hands in sync with Youngji’s excitement. She leaned back into her seat, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook with laughter. “Oh my god, yes,” she admitted through giggles. “Loki is… well, who doesn’t have a crush on him?”

Youngji, clearly invested now, leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity. “Wait, wait, hold on,” she bombarded Luna, her words slightly slurred but enthusiastic. “What do you like about him? He’s handsome, sure, but he’s the bad guy, right? Is that your type?” Her voice rose playfully, her brows wiggling mischievously as if she’d uncovered something scandalous.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head at the accusation, her smile widening as the conversation shifted into familiar territory. “I mean I don’t have a specific type. Yeah, he’s handsome, and yeah, he’s the bad guy— kind of.” She began slowly, her voice steady but carrying more energy than it had earlier, an unmistakable sign that the alcohol was loosening her up more than she realized. “But that’s not why I like him.”

She straightened in her seat, her hands animated now as she started explaining, the words pouring out faster as she became more passionate about her topic. “It’s not just about him being a bad guy, you know? It’s his personality— he has this… this charm,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “He’s got this dry sense of humor that makes you laugh even when you don’t expect it. And the way he’s confident, but not in an obnoxious way. It’s more subtle like he knows he’s smart and capable, but he doesn’t need to prove it all the time.”

Youngji, who had been hanging onto every word, nodded in agreement, though clearly a little lost in the rapid-fire speech. “Hmm, that makes sense… but he still likes to cause trouble, right? Mischief? Isn’t that a big part of it?”

Luna grinned, leaning in a little as if sharing a secret. “Exactly! He’s mischievous,” she repeated with emphasis, her eyes glinting with something more. “But it’s not just for the sake of it— there’s always something deeper, something clever behind it. He’s always ten steps ahead, and that’s what makes him so interesting.” She paused for a beat, her mind briefly wandering, before she added with a softer, almost playful smile, “I guess I’ve always been drawn to that kind of personality… intelligent and calculated guys are very attractive to me.”

As Luna spoke, she unconsciously revealed more than she intended. Her words, though directed at Loki, seemed to resonate with something— or rather, someone— else entirely.

The qualities she was describing weren’t just about a fictional character; they mirrored those of her boyfriend, Jeonghan, with startling accuracy. He, too, had that sly, playful nature, that effortless confidence that both infuriated and charmed everyone around him.

Youngji, perhaps too tipsy to pick up on the underlying hints, nodded along, her chin resting on her hand as she gazed at Luna with fascination. “You’re really passionate about this,” she slurred, blinking slowly. “I get it, though. Mischievous guys… they keep things exciting, huh?”

Luna laughed softly, her cheeks slightly flushed from both the alcohol and the direction of the conversation. “Yeah, they do,” she admitted, a knowing glint in her eye. “It’s fun. You never quite know what’s coming, but it’s always worth it in the end.”

Youngji slapped her hand on the table suddenly, making Luna jump a little. “I knew it!” she declared, pointing at Luna dramatically. “You do have a type! Mischievous, funny, smart— Loki-type!” She was laughing now, clearly enjoying her discovery, even though she wasn’t aware of just how on-the-nose her comment really was.

Luna, unable to hold back her laughter, nodded in playful surrender. “Okay, maybe I do,” she said, her voice light, though there was a warmth behind it that hinted at something deeper— something personal.

Youngji, still clearly invested in Luna’s rant about Loki, tilted her head in thought, a playful glint in her eye. “Wait, so… do you like guys with long hair too? You know, since Loki’s rocking that,” she asked, her voice teasing as her words slurred slightly. She wiggled her fingers dramatically in the air, mimicking Loki’s flowing locks as if she’d stumbled onto another part of Luna’s type.

Luna, catching on to where Youngji was going with this, chuckled and shook her head, but there was a playful gleam in her eyes. “I don’t really have a preference when it comes to looks,” she replied thoughtfully, her words slower as if she was choosing them carefully, though the slight smile on her lips suggested otherwise. “Long hair, short hair— it doesn’t really matter to me.”

There was a brief pause as Luna took another bite of her food, but then she added, “But… if he can pull off both, then that’s even better.” She let out a quiet laugh, raising an eyebrow as if she were sharing a secret. “Though, I might be biased toward long hair. Just a little.”

Youngji’s eyes widened dramatically, and she shot up from her seat, clapping loudly as if she had just uncovered the greatest revelation. “Aha! I knew it!” she slurred, pointing at Luna as if she had caught her red-handed. “You say you don’t have a type, but you do! Mischievous, smart guys with long hair!” Her voice was loud and excited, the alcohol clearly making her voice louder than she intended.

Luna threw herself back in her chair, laughing uncontrollably at Youngji’s dramatic outburst. “What are you talking about?” she managed to say between fits of laughter, waving her hands as if to defend herself. “I never said that!”

But Youngji wasn’t having it.

“Ya! Luna you can’t fool me,” Youngji slurred then she turned toward the camera, still pointing at Luna with a wobbly finger. “You heard it here first, everyone!” she announced, her words slurring even more. “Luna likes mischievous, intelligent guys who can rock both short and long hair… but especially long!”

Luna, still cackling in the background, waved her hands in surrender. “I didn’t say that!” she protested, though her laughter betrayed her.

It was obvious to both of them and probably everyone watching, that she wasn’t exactly disagreeing with the assessment.

Youngji, proud of her deduction, grinned ear to ear and sat back down, clearly satisfied with herself. “I knew it,” she repeated, nodding sagely as if she had just solved a mystery.

Just as Youngji settled back, still grinning from her triumphant deduction, Luna’s phone dinged from its place in the glass, the sound echoing in the small room. The noise caught their attention immediately, both sets of eyes snapping toward the device as if fate itself had decided to weigh in on the conversation.

Luna’s phone screen lit up, casting a soft glow through the glass. Only she and Youngji could see the notification, and as Luna lifted her phone slightly to check, she froze for a second.

The screen displayed a single message— from Jeonghan. And there, beneath his name, was the very same Jeonghan’s face grinning lazily back at them, clear as day on her wallpaper.

Youngji’s tipsy eyes widened at the sight, and though her speech was still slurred from the alcohol, her voice carried a teasing lilt as she blurted, “See? I knew it.”

Luna burst into laughter, throwing herself against Youngji’s shoulder as if to beg her to stop from being too obvious, her whole body shaking with mirth. But the playful exchange only fueled Youngji more. She raised her hands in mock innocence, trying to cover for Luna in the most transparent way possible.

“I knew it!” Youngji repeated, but then quickly amended herself, glancing mischievously around the room. “I mean, come on, one of your members was bound to check in on you at some point, right?” She added a little wink, though her teasing tone couldn’t have been more blatant.

Luna, still caught in a fit of giggles, sat up a bit, trying to compose herself. She could only shake her head as she looked down at the message, her cheeks flushed both from laughter and the alcohol.

The moment was filled with shared glances and inside jokes, one of those times when words weren’t necessary to convey understanding. Even though Luna and Jeonghan’s relationship was a secret from the public, Youngji’s playful cover was enough to keep things lighthearted, avoiding too much attention while still teasing Luna about the not-so-hidden truth.

Youngji, still half-smirking, decided to play innocent as she leaned in closer, feigning curiosity. “So… who texted you?” she asked, dragging out the question as if she hadn’t seen the name flash across the screen just moments before.

Luna was still recovering from her laughing fit, her entire body shaking as she clutched her stomach with one hand, the other wiping away the tears that had pooled in her eyes. Every time she tried to speak, another wave of giggles overtook her, leaving her gasping for air. The crew watched on with amusement, chuckling softly as they witnessed Luna’s complete surrender to the hilarity of the situation.

Youngji, however, put on her best serious face, her brow furrowing in exaggerated concern. “Luna are you okay?” she asked, her tone mockingly stern. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes widening as she studied Luna’s uncontrollable laughter. “You won’t stop laughing… I think you need to go home.”

The crew erupted into laughter at Youngji’s deadpan delivery, but Luna, still giggling, managed to shake her head, clutching her tummy as if trying to rein herself in. “I don’t want to go home!” she protested, taking a deep breath to calm down.

After a brief pause, she finally managed to answer Youngji’s earlier question, wiping the last of her tears from her eyes. “It’s Jeonghannie oppa,” she said, her voice still a little breathless from laughing so hard.

Youngji raised an eyebrow, her playful expression returning. “He knows you’re here filming, right?” she teased, still pretending to be oblivious. Then, with a mischievous grin, she added, “Do you want to share with the class what he said, or not?”

Luna, now calmer, picked up her phone from the glass. She opened the message and quickly scanned it before reading aloud, her tone light and casual. “He said, ‘Call me when you’re done and on the way here.’” She locked her phone again and set it aside, still smiling.

Youngji, slurring slightly from the alcohol, leaned in with mock curiosity. “Where are you going after this?” she asked, her head tilting slightly as if trying to unravel some great mystery.

Luna chuckled at her exaggerated tone. “I have practice after this,” she explained, still amused by Youngji’s playful interrogation. The casual exchange, despite its lightheartedness, held the warmth of friendship, each teasing comment laced with genuine affection.

Youngji suddenly perked up, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. “I have an idea!” she exclaimed, a little louder than she intended, which made Luna jump slightly in her seat. “Text Jeonghan-ssi. Let’s prank him.”

Luna, clearly enjoying where this was headed, giggled in anticipation, her fingers already moving toward her phone. “What should I say?” she asked, the excitement in her voice palpable as she unlocked her phone. The atmosphere felt lighter now, the earlier tension of the drinks and deeper conversation melting into a more playful vibe.

“Tell him,” Youngji leaned closer as if they were conspiring, “that you can’t do this anymore.”

Luna’s eyes widened before she broke into another fit of laughter, covering her mouth as if trying to stifle it. “He’s not going to fall for that,” she said, though her hands were already typing out the exact message Youngji had suggested:

‘I can’t do this anymore.’

As she pressed send, Luna glanced at Youngji and said with a smirk, “Hannie oppa is too sharp for this. He won’t be easily fooled, h–”

But her playful assurance was cut short when, mid-sentence, the familiar ringtone of her phone echoed in the room, cutting through the conversation like a hot knife.

The room went still for a moment.

The crew gasped, some even giggling at the sudden shift, while Youngji, now fully invested in the chaos she’d started, shot up in her seat. “Oh my god! Girl, answer the phone!” she gasped, her eyes wild with amusement, leaning even closer toward Luna.

Luna blinked at her phone in disbelief, the name ‘my angel boy🪽’ lighting up her screen, the ringtone growing louder in the otherwise silent space. She looked at Youngji with wide eyes, her voice now a whisper, “What should I say?”

There was a tiny hint of panic behind her words, her excitement starting to mix with nervous energy.

Youngji, half-slurring, was all for the drama. “Tell him…” she paused for effect, her words dripping with amusement, “…tell him you couldn’t do this anymore because I was asking you weird questions!”

Luna hesitated, biting her lip in mild panic. “Youngji… you’re really… crazy,” she muttered, but before she could back out, she quickly hit the answer button, her voice coming out steadier than she felt.

Luna placed her phone on speaker, her fingers trembling slightly from the mixture of excitement and nerves. Before she could even get a word out, Jeonghan’s deep, yet soft voice filled the room, echoing through the small space.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his tone gentle but with a hint of concern.

Luna, knowing Jeonghan so well after all these years, immediately understood the shift.

His voice was usually so bright and sing-song, always answering the phone with an upbeat tone that instantly lifted her spirits. But now, his seriousness threw her off, and she winced, shooting Youngji and the crew a pained look.

Youngji, though, was undeterred, grinning like the devil on her shoulder and silently urging her to keep going.

“O-oppa…” Luna started, trying her best to sound sad, though her voice trembled with the urge to burst into laughter.

Jeonghan hummed on the other end of the line, a soft noise that nudged her to continue.

“I just finished the interview,” she added, her tone still shaky.

Another hum from Jeonghan, quiet and calm.

“She was asking weird questions,” Luna said, attempting a sad sigh but immediately covering her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

There was a beat of silence from Jeonghan’s side.

The kind of silence that made everyone in the room freeze for a moment.

Luna could feel the intensity of it, like he was trying to process her words while keeping his composure.

Then, finally, his voice came through again, still soft but now with an underlying sharpness that made both Luna and Youngji cringe.

“What questions?” he asked, his voice careful, as though he was trying not to jump to conclusions too quickly, but the edge was unmistakable.

Youngji, who had been grinning from ear to ear, suddenly stood up from her seat, backing herself playfully against the wall as if trying to escape Jeonghan’s indirect scolding.

Luna, on the other hand, was struggling, tears forming in her eyes as she stretched her arm out, holding the phone away from her mouth in a desperate attempt to hold back her laughter.

“Jiyeon-ah,” Jeonghan’s voice came again, firmer this time. “What questions?”

Luna smiled through the fear knowing how rare Jeonghan called her by her real name, but she stopped herself just before answering, her acting skills being tested more than ever. She sighed dramatically, leaning into the role. “Just…”

Before she could even finish, Jeonghan’s voice cut her off, his words making Luna cringe hard.

“Do you want me to tell Seungcheol?” he asked, the mention of their leader’s name hitting like a warning shot.

Luna’s entire body tensed at that.

She knew Seungcheol, would absolutely flip if he thought Luna was upset about something serious.

Youngji, still up against the wall, shook her head frantically at Luna, playfully waving goodbye at the camera as if she was terrified of the situation she’d created. Luna gestured for her to come back, laughing even as she tried to keep up the charade.

“No!” Luna quickly blurted out, cringing at the thought of Seungcheol getting involved. “No, I’m on the way back anyway— I’ll talk to Coupsie.”

There was another long pause.

Luna could practically hear Jeonghan processing her words.

Then, finally, his voice echoed through the phone again, calmer, but still holding that careful tone.

“You’re on the way back?” he asked.

“Yes, I just finished,” Luna answered, keeping her voice steady, though she could feel the tension building.

Another pause.

“You finished the interview and you’re on your way back?” Jeonghan repeated as if summarizing everything she’d said.

Luna blinked, her smile twitching. “Yes, why?”

There was a longer silence this time.

Everyone in the room was holding their breath, waiting for his next words.

Then, in a tone that was now playfully amused, Jeonghan finally spoke again.

“Out of all the people you could prank, you decided to prank me?”

Luna burst out laughing, the tension finally breaking as the entire room seemed to release a collective gasp.

Youngji was staring at her in disbelief, her mouth slightly open as she looked around at the crew. “How did he find out?” she asked, more to herself than anyone else.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Luna giggled, covering her face with her hands as she tried to apologize. “Youngji made me do it!”

From the phone, Jeonghan simply went, “Ah.” His voice, now fully relaxed, was teasingly amused.

Youngji, still shocked, stuttered shyly, “J-Jeonghan-ssi, hello.”

“Oh, hello, Youngji-ssi,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice as polite and soft as ever.

Luna, still laughing, finally asked the question on everyone’s mind. “How did you know I was joking?”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, then explained, “I didn’t know at first. But when you said you finished the interview, something felt off.” He paused, then continued, “You’re the type of person who would just end the interview yourself if you were uncomfortable or disrespected by the questions. You wouldn’t wait to finish.”

Luna smiled, understanding exactly what he meant.

She had always been one to speak her mind and walk away from anything she wasn’t comfortable with.

“And,” Jeonghan added, his voice even more teasing now, “I could hear you smiling while you spoke.”

Luna shook her head, chuckling again. “I told you he wouldn’t fall for it,” she said, turning to Youngji, who just sat there, still in disbelief at how quickly Jeonghan had caught on.

Youngji slumped back into her seat, still stunned, as Luna’s laughter echoed in the room.

Luna, her laughter finally dying down, looked at her phone and said, “Well, since you’re here, oppa, you should say hi to everyone!” She grinned, turning her phone slightly toward the camera, giving Jeonghan a moment to address the viewers.

On cue, Jeonghan’s deep but soothing voice echoed through the room again, still as smooth and soft as ever. “Hello, everyone,” he greeted, his tone polite but with a touch of playful charm. “I hope you’re all doing well. Please continue to take care of Luna while she’s with you today.”

The staff, who had been quietly watching the whole thing unfold, burst into a chorus of hellos and some gave friendly waves toward the phone as if Jeonghan could see them.

Before he could say anything more, Luna, clearly not wanting to give him another second of control over the conversation, interrupted him with a sudden outburst. “Han! It’s so much fun here with Youngji!” she began, her voice rising with excitement, “You should be here too!”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle on the other end, but before he could respond, Youngji leaned into the frame with a wide grin. “He really should come next time! We’ll do a special episode— Luna and Jeonghan together!”

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind,” Jeonghan replied, his voice smooth but with a hint of amusement.

Luna straightened in her seat, her enthusiasm bubbling over. “No, really! You’d love it! Youngji keeps making me laugh, and we’ve been talking about everything— drinks, games, she even made me dance!” She started listing everything off with the same excitement, her voice taking on a childlike tone as she gushed. “And the crew here is so nice! We’ve been playing games, and Youngji asked me so many fun questions— she’s so funny!”

Jeonghan hummed softly in response, the sound was warm and full of affection. “Mm, that sounds like a lot of fun,” he cooed in his signature lazy drawl. “I’m glad you’re having a good time, Nana-ya.”

Luna, encouraged by his response, continued to ramble on, her words spilling out faster now. “And—and you should’ve seen when we started— Youngji made me drink gin and she gave me a lot of food, and we even—” She paused, catching herself, then giggled, clearly realizing she was talking a mile a minute.

Youngji, who had been watching with amusement, leaned toward the camera and whispered to the crew, “This is the most Luna’s spoken today.” The crew chuckled along, nodding in agreement.

Jeonghan, ever the doting boyfriend, was patient and gentle, humming softly every now and then to let her know he was listening. “Ah, really?” he said, his voice carrying that familiar, affectionate tone he used with her. “Sounds like you’re having a blast, hmm?”

Luna, her face glowing with excitement, nodded eagerly, even though he couldn’t see her. “I am! I wish you were here! It’s so much fun! And Youngji said next time you can come, and maybe we’ll—”

Jeonghan let out a small, amused laugh, cutting her off gently, “You drank a lot, huh?”

Luna immediately pouted, shaking her head even though Jeonghan couldn’t see her expression. “No, I didn’t! I didn’t drink that much! Only a little…”

Jeonghan chuckled again, this time more indulgently, his tone almost teasing. “Mm, alright. You just spoke a thousand words in one breath, Nana-ya. I think you definitely drank more than a little.”

Luna gasped, mock offended, before laughing again, unable to keep up the act. Youngji and the crew, meanwhile, were in stitches, watching the entire exchange unfold like something out of a rom-com.

Youngji, still giggling, waved toward the camera again. “Jeonghan-ssi, I promise we didn’t force her to drink that much!”

“Oh, I believe you,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice still light with humor. “But Jiyeonie’s not exactly the best at hiding when she’s had a few, is she?”

Luna pouted once more, slumping in her seat. “Oppa!” she whined softly, her tone almost playful as she drew out the syllables.

Jeonghan hummed again, his voice turning soft and doting once more. “It’s okay, I’m just teasing you,” he cooed, that familiar sing-song lilt back in his voice. “I’m glad you’re having fun, really.”

Luna smiled, her heart fluttering at the sound of his voice. No matter how often he teased her, she knew it was always out of love.

Youngji, catching her soft expression, leaned toward the camera with a knowing grin. “See? This is why I said you should prank him. Look how sweet he is.”

Luna nodded, biting her lip to keep from giggling again. She knew Jeonghan wouldn’t stay mad for long, especially when he could tell she was having a good time.

Luna smiled as the laughter in the room finally died down, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her phone. “Okay, Hannie, I’m gonna go now,” she said softly, her voice still carrying traces of the playful energy from moments before.

Jeonghan hummed on the other end, his tone gentle and affectionate. “Mm, okay. Take care, See you later, Jiyeonie.”

Luna’s heart swelled at the warmth in his voice. “You too, oppa. Practice well, okay?”

“I will. I’ll see you soon,” he replied, his voice a low murmur, almost like a promise.

With a soft smile, Luna nodded to herself. “Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Nana-ya.”

She ended the call, placing the phone gently on the table, but before she could even relax into her seat, her phone lit up again.

A notification popped up at the top of the screen— a text from Jeonghan: ‘Drink water and eat more.’

Luna chuckled, already feeling the warmth of his concern, but before she could even react, Youngji jumped up from her seat, immediately fussing over her. “Aigoo, see! You better listen to him!” she slurred, her movements exaggerated as she grabbed the nearby pitcher of water and began pouring it into Luna’s glass. “You need to eat more too!” she added, piling more food onto Luna’s plate, her eyes wide as if the message from Jeonghan had ignited some maternal instinct in her.

Luna giggled, watching Youngji in amusement as she responded to Jeonghan’s message with a quick, ‘Yes, I’ll eat. Don’t worry 🤍’

Then, she obediently picked up her fork and took a bite of the food, earning a satisfied nod from Youngji, who had taken on the role of Luna’s makeshift caretaker.

Youngji, a bit tipsy and swaying slightly, leaned closer, her words slightly slurred but full of sincerity. “You’re so lucky… He’s really worried about you, huh?”

Luna smiled as she chewed, swallowing before replying. “Well… it’s not just him. The members, especially Jeonghannie and Coupsie oppa, always make sure I’m okay when we’re drinking— especially today.”

Youngji raised a curious eyebrow at that, her tipsy brain trying to keep up with Luna’s words. “Why? What happened?”

Luna let out a soft laugh, realizing Youngji might not remember the story. “It’s because they don’t want another Hoshi incident.”

Youngji blinked, clearly confused. “Hoshi incident?”

Luna nodded, already knowing the moment she mentioned it, the memory would click. “You know, when Hoshi-oppa was here, he got really drunk, right? Well, that same day, we had practice. So, Hoshi showed up to the practice room completely wasted but was still trying to practice like it was nothing.”

Youngji’s mouth fell open in disbelief, and she let out a surprised laugh. “No way!”

Luna grinned, nodding. “Yep. And Jeonghannie oppa filmed the whole thing! There’s a video of drunk Hoshi oppa still trying to do the choreo.” Luna tilted her head and asked, “Did you see the video?”

Youngji’s eyes widened in sudden realization, and she nodded vigorously. “Ohhh! I remember now! I saw that video! Poor guy — I felt so bad but he looked cool, he can dance better drunk than I do sober!”

Luna laughed at Youngji’s dramatic retelling, but before she could say anything else, Youngji waved her hand in front of her, acting like a strict mother. “See, this is why you should go home now,” she said, her voice half-serious, half-teasing, as if she was trying to play both roles of the concerned friend and the playful show host.

Luna couldn’t help but laugh at her antics, the warmth of the moment filling her chest. The combination of Youngji’s tipsy fussing and Jeonghan’s constant concern made her feel wrapped in a bubble of affection— a place where she was cared for in every little way.

With a playful sigh, Luna shook her head. “I don’t want to leave. I’ll eat, I promise.”

“Go home, Luna,” Youngji groaned dramatically, her voice dripping with exaggerated exhaustion, making Luna giggle. The crew burst into laughter at the ongoing playful banter between the two of them, while Luna took another bite of food, ignoring the command.

Luna, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, pouted cutely. “But I don’t want to go!” she whined, her voice slurred slightly as she waved her chopsticks in the air. “I’m having so much fun!”

Youngji, not one to back down, leaned forward and pointed at Luna with mock sternness. “You still have dance practice, Jiyeon-ah! Your members will get mad at me if I let you drink more.”

Luna’s pout deepened as she huffed, rolling her eyes. “They won’t get mad. I’ll just… be a little late,” she slurred, her words drawing out lazily as she reached for more food.

Youngji smirked, shaking her head. “A little late? Girl, do you want me to get in trouble with SEVENTEEN?” She pointed a finger at herself before adding with a mock-terrified look, “That’s two out of fourteen members showing up drunk at their dance practice because of me. S.Coups-ssi might hunt me down.”

The crew burst into laughter again, and Luna, in her slightly tipsy state, let out a high-pitched giggle. “Coupsie oppa would never!” she laughed, covering her mouth with her hand, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Oh, wouldn’t he?” Youngji teased, her face pulling into a playful grimace as she imitated Seungcheol’s authoritative tone. “I can already hear him— ‘Youngji-ssi, what did you do to Luna?!’”

Luna burst out laughing, swaying slightly as she covered her face with her hands. “Stop, stop!” she giggled, cheeks turning even redder. “He’s not like that… Well, not all the time.”

Youngji shook her head knowingly. “Yeah, right. He’s the leader for a reason. Do you really think he’s going to let this slide?” She crossed her arms, giving Luna a playful yet stern look.

Luna slumped in her seat, her pout returning. “I don’t want to go back,” she mumbled under her breath, acting like a child avoiding bedtime. “It’s too much fun here.”

Youngji let out a deep, exaggerated sigh, shaking her head as if defeated. “Aigoo, this girl,” she muttered. “Your members are going to come for me, I just know it.”

Luna giggled softly after finishing her last bite, wiping her lips with the napkin. She looked at Youngji with a small smile, almost sheepishly. “Alright, alright, I’ll go,” she said with a laugh, realizing that, if she didn’t leave soon, she’d be late for practice for sure.

One of the crew members approached Luna with a grin, holding out a marker and a blank piece of paper. “Luna, can you sign this for us? It’s for the wall— we have all of Youngji’s guests sign it.”

Luna beamed, taking the marker and paper eagerly. “Of course!” She placed the paper on the table, leaning over as she started writing her message. She spoke out loud as she scrawled her words in neat, bold handwriting. “Youngji, you’re the best… from your best friend Luna.”

Youngji, watching over her shoulder, cackled at the message. “Your best friend, huh? I’ve officially been promoted. I’ll take it!”

Luna chuckled, finishing her signature with a small flourish. She handed the paper to Youngji, who took it with a grin. “Aww, look at that!” Youngji teased, waving the paper for the camera. “Everyone, look! Luna thinks I’m the best.”

Luna laughed again, watching as Youngji stood up from her seat, making her way to the wall of signatures. She carefully stuck Luna’s paper up alongside the others, smoothing it out to make sure it was centered. “There you go, you’re officially a part of the wall now,” Youngji said, taking a step back to admire the wall.

“We should take a picture to commemorate this,” Youngji added, turning toward Luna with a playful grin.

Luna nodded, feeling a bit lighter from the drinks but still excited. “Yes, let’s do it.”

One of the staff members quickly grabbed a phone, and Luna and Youngji struck a pose, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders. Youngji held up a peace sign, while Luna tilted her head to rest against Youngji’s with a bright, tipsy smile. The camera clicked, capturing the moment, and the staff clapped in appreciation of the scene.

As they pulled away from the photo, Luna turned to Youngji with a soft smile. “I had so much fun today,” she said sincerely, her eyes crinkling in the corners.

Youngji grinned, her tone just as warm. “Me too. We should do this again sometime. Maybe next time, I’ll drink more and you can take care of me.”

Luna laughed, nodding. “Deal! I’m looking forward to it.”

With that, they shared a tight hug, Youngji squeezing Luna with a fond chuckle. Luna pulled back slightly, her expression playful as she planted a quick kiss on Youngji’s cheek. “Thank you for having me,” Luna said, bowing her head in gratitude.

Youngji deadpanned, touching her cheek dramatically. “You better go before I steal you from your members and keep you to myself,” she joked, making the staff and crew burst out laughing.

Luna laughed along, turning towards the door, waving and bowing at the crew. “Thank you, everyone! Bye-bye!” she called out, flashing a smile to the camera before making her way out.

The door closed behind her softly, leaving the room filled with the lingering energy of her presence.

In the last moments, the staff and Youngji exchanged looks, a warm laughter spreading around the room. “That was amazing,” Youngji mused, shaking her head with an affectionate smile.

The camera panned out, capturing the wall of signatures as it faded to black, Luna’s note standing proudly among the others, a lasting memory of her fun and lively presence.

comments…

@/lunababybae • 2 years ago ╰ their chemistry is perfect! I would love to see more of these two together 😂

@/rinarieee • 2 years ago ╰ Jiyeon came in so quiet and composed and then left a loud, giggling mess.

@/gyusshadow • 2 years ago ╰ I gotta hand it to Luna she can drink 🤭

@/moonbae17 • 2 years ago ╰ Youngji calling Luna her girl crush at 19:30 is an actual mood.

@/saythename • 2 years ago ╰ Luna’s deadpan humor is so fucking attractive for some reason 🫠

@/mad-lineeee • 2 years ago ╰ she’s a princess fr fr 💖

@/mrsbaebae • 2 years ago ╰ Luna is so sweet to gift Youngji that set and from Paris too 🤌💋

@/alyy1625 • 2 years ago ╰ Only Bae Jiyeon would not like the taste of beer but would down gin like that with a straight face

@/jeongnanana • 2 years ago ╰ Luna explaining that she just has resting bitch face and that she’s not actually scary is so funny to me cause same 🤣

@/gyuuuuudaily• 2 years ago. ╰ GOD I JUST LOVE HER BRITISH ACCENT SO MUCH 😫 ITS LIKE BUTTER.

@/sallluuuteee17 • 2 years ago ╰ 15:16 “Honestly, I don’t know what I would do without them. Sometimes I think about it, you know? In another universe, maybe I didn’t audition, or maybe I didn’t end up in the final lineup… but I still feel like, somehow, I would have found my way to them. Even if it was just as a fan.” Brb I’ll just dry my eyes 🥹

@/lulu-nana17• 2 years ago ╰ 16:30 Luna’s face when Youngji lost the game at the first try 😂

@/gyugyugyugyu_ • 2 years ago ╰ Luna saying she mostly has crushes on fictional characters is such a mood cause same

@/sebongrighthere • 2 years ago ╰ THANK YOU LEE YOUNGJI FOR ASKING LUNA TO DANCE HOT!! IT WAS INDEED HOT 🥵

@/user836837373863 • 2 years ago ╰ “But… if he can pull off both, then that’s even better.” WHO ARE YOU FOOLING, MISS THING?! WE KNOW DAMN WELL WHO YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT!!

@/missbitchhhh • 2 years ago ╰ Jiyeon geeking out about Loki is adorable!!

@/shadowmyshadow• 2 years ago ╰ 20:55 is she even still talking about Loki at this point? Because I swear it’s sound like she’s talking about someone else entirely… iykyk 😝

@/angel7266 • 2 years ago ╰ “He’s got this dry sense of humor that makes you laugh even when you don’t expect it. And the way he’s confident, but not in an obnoxious way. It’s more subtle, like he knows he’s smart and capable, but he doesn’t need to prove it all the time.” ONLY ONE PERSON POPPED IN MY HEAD WHEN SHE SAID THIS AND HIS NAME RHYMES WITH BOON BEONGHAN 😊

@/hannnieeeee7251 • 2 years ago ╰ TELL ME I AM INSANE!? SHE WAS LITERALLY DESCRIBING JEONGHAN THE ENTIRE TIME SHE WAS TALKING ABOUT LOKI!? THE CHARM, THE WIT, THE HUMOR, THE BRAIN, THE MISCHIEVOUSNESS, THE LONG FUCKING HAIR?! EXCUSE ME?!

@/user763816262 • 2 years ago ╰ Jeonghan’s voice during that call 😫

@/ashonashonash_ • 2 years ago ╰ 25:55 Jiyeon got scared when Jeonghan sounded serious for a second.

@/jijijiyeonienie • 2 years ago ╰ Hannie clocking Luna’s prank so fast. He knows her from the inside out fr.

@/kpopfan17 • 2 years ago ╰ who would have thought i would get to see Luna gushing about Yoon Jeonghan *ahem* I mean Loki for a solid minute and a half 😉

@/belleeeee_ • 2 years ago ╰ Youngji knows something we don’t cause look at her reaction when Jeonghan texted 🤭

@/diamondlifeu • 1 year ago ╰ YOON JEONGHAN THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 🥺

@/gyuminggooo • 1 year ago ╰ Hannie called Luna real quick… so quick that I had a fucking whiplash.

@/dailynanana • 1 year ago ╰ She texted him “I can’t do this anymore” I bet Jeonghan was scared shitless.

@/chuuuuchhuu17 • 1 year ago ╰ Jeonghan is so patient with Luna, the way he listened and waited for her to finish her rant was so endearing to see 🥹

@/lalunanova • 1 year ago ╰ “what are you talking about?” Daddy?! 🥵

@/17-carat • 3 weeks ago ╰ 26:22 Youngji backing up the second she heard Jeonghan’s serious voice and at the mention of Cheol 🤣

@/myg145 • 2 weeks ago ╰ Drunk dancing Hoshi really got these guys stressing for Luna’s turn in this show 😂

@/bjy_lover • 1 week ago ╰ I need a man like Yoon Jeonghan. He is the standard! Like, that entire conversation was so cute 🥺💖

[My Alcohol Diary 2.0 — The Aftermath]

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[30somethingautisticteacher]

Rewriting Their Stories

The 118 crew and their partners lounged around the fire pit in Bobby and Athena's backyard, the flames casting a warm glow on their faces. Buck nestled closer to Tommy on the small outdoor loveseat, a soft blanket draped over them. As he gazed around at his chosen family, a wave of gratitude washed over him.

Chimney's voice broke through the comfortable silence. "Alright, next question: first kisses. Who was yours and when?" He grinned mischievously. "Maddie, you're up."

Maddie groaned good-naturedly, rolling her eyes at her husband. "Fine. Jeremy Billings, sixth grade." She paused, scrunching her nose at the memory. "His lips were like sandpaper, and our braces nearly got stuck together. Not exactly the stuff of romance novels."

The group erupted in laughter, the sound mingling with the crackling fire.

Maddie, still chuckling at her own embarrassing memory, turned to Bobby. "Alright, Bobby, you're up next."

Bobby's eyes crinkled with amusement as he leaned back, one arm draped around Athena's shoulders. "Eileen Rogers, eighth grade," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "It was at my first co-ed party, during a rather intense game of spin the bottle."

Athena raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Spin the bottle, huh? Should I be jealous of this Eileen?"

Bobby chuckled, pulling his wife closer. "Trust me, it was about as awkward as Maddie's orthodontic adventure. We bumped noses before we even got to the kiss part."

The group dissolved into laughter once more, the camaraderie evident in their shared amusement.

As the laughter died down, Buck felt Tommy tense beside him. Glancing up, he noticed a shadow pass over his partner's face. Concern flickered in Buck's eyes as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hey, you okay?"

Tommy nodded, but the gesture lacked conviction. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and his gaze seemed fixed on some distant point beyond the fire.

Buck's brow furrowed, his arm tightening protectively around Tommy's waist. He knew his boyfriend well enough to sense that something was off, but he also understood that now wasn't the time to press the issue. Instead, he simply intertwined their fingers under the blanket, offering a silent gesture of support.

"Tommy, you're up," Bobby said.

Tommy swallowed hard, his gaze distant. "Uh, Chad Miller," he began, his voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "I was... I was 14."

He paused, his grip tightening on Buck's hand beneath the blanket. "My dad walked in on us," Tommy added, his tone flat, devoid of the playful nostalgia that had colored the others' stories.

A heavy silence fell over the group, the jovial atmosphere dissipating like smoke in the night air. Buck instinctively pulled Tommy closer, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of his partner's hand.

Athena, ever perceptive, smoothly intervened. "How about we take a quick break? I think we could use some more snacks." Her suggestion was met with murmurs of agreement as the group began to stir, offering Tommy a moment to collect himself.

Later that night, in the quiet of their home, Buck finally broached the subject. They were curled up on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background, more for ambiance than entertainment.

"Hey," Buck said softly, his fingers gently combing through Tommy's hair. "You wanna talk about what happened earlier? About your first kiss?"

Tommy was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on some invisible point. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, tinged with old pain. "There's not much to say, really. My dad caught his son kissing another boy, and he... well, he reacted how you'd expect."

The words hung heavy in the air, laden with unspoken hurt. Buck's arm tightened around Tommy, offering silent support and protection against memories that couldn't be changed.

"I'm sorry you went through that," Buck murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Tommy's temple. "You didn't deserve it."

Tommy let out a shaky breath, leaning into Buck's embrace. "I know that now. It's just... sometimes the memories catch me off guard, you know?"

Tommy's voice was barely above a whisper, each word heavy with long-buried pain. "I stayed in that house for another three years after that day. My dad... I don't think he ever looked me in the eye again. He was so ashamed."

He paused, his body tense against Buck's. Buck remained silent, offering a reassuring squeeze, encouraging Tommy to continue at his own pace.

"And Chad," Tommy's voice cracked slightly. "He was terrified. Threatened to kick my ass and out me to everyone if I breathed a word about what happened. So I didn't. I just... existed. Invisible and silent."

Buck felt a surge of protective anger, but he kept his voice soft. "That must have been incredibly lonely and scary for you. I'm so sorry you had to go through that, babe."

Tommy's voice trembled, raw emotion seeping through his carefully constructed walls. "For the longest time, I thought I was broken. Like God had made some terrible mistake when He made me."

Buck's heart clenched at the pain in Tommy's words. He cupped Tommy's face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall.

"Listen to me," Buck said, his voice low and intense. "You are not broken. You are not a mistake. You're beautifully, perfectly you."

Tommy leaned into Buck's touch, his eyes closing as he fought to believe the words. "I know that now, mostly. But back then... it felt like the whole world was telling me I was wrong just for existing."

Buck pulled Tommy closer, wrapping him in a protective embrace. "I wish I could go back and protect that scared kid you were. Tell him that he's worthy of love and acceptance."

Tommy's arms tightened around Buck. "You're doing that now," he whispered. "Every day, you show me what real love and acceptance look like."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Tommy's revelation settling around them. Buck pressed a soft kiss to Tommy's forehead, a wordless promise of continued support and unconditional love.

Buck's voice was soft, his eyes meeting Tommy's with warmth. "Can I tell you about my first kiss with a guy?"

Tommy nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. He knew this story, but hearing Buck tell it always filled him with a mix of love and pride.

"It was the softest, most perfect kiss," Buck began, his voice tinged with reverence. "He lifted my chin with his fingers, so gently. When our lips met, everything changed. He rewrote my story."

Buck's hand found Tommy's, squeezing gently. "You rewrote my story, Tommy."

Tommy's eyes glistened with emotion. "I remember," he whispered. "I was so nervous, but you felt so right."

"You were perfect," Buck assured him. "Still are. That moment... it changed everything for me, in the best possible way."

Tommy leaned in, resting his forehead against Buck's. "For me too," he murmured. "You helped me rewrite my story too, you know. Showed me what love should really feel like."

Buck cupped Tommy's face, his thumb gently caressing his cheek. "We rewrote our stories together," he said softly. "And we're still writing, every day."

[milkywaydrabbles]

just read your latest kinktober!! so gooood 😫!! if you could pretty please do #21 with hanma shuji, sanzu, and the haitani brothers!

A/N: No on fucking look at me, I was not expecting this to end up being 3.3k and yet somehow...omg. Sorry for the demon that posessed me. This is pure filth, probably had more fun writing this than I should have but I hope you love it bc I do. Enjoy, mwuah

Threesome or Moresome x Hanma, Sanzu, Rindou, Ran

It was no surprise that the executives of Bonten did not like sharing. They didn’t like sharing their seats in the meetings (there were no fucking assigned seats), they didn’t like sharing their women (literally sex workers doing their jobs with whoever paid them), they didn’t like sharing their money, and most of all: they didn’t like sharing you. Another executive in the ranks

You hadn’t been with any of them, not really. Some heavy petting with Hanma here and there, a makeout session with the Haitanis at one point during a drunken night, maybe you gave Sanzu a handy when you were playing passenger princess for a mission. Nothing solid, and definitely not enough to any of them to stake ‘claim’ on you. You held your own, not letting any of them interfere with your work. You barely glanced in their directions unless you had to (you were softer with Kakucho, he was too sweet for you not to be) so that the ugly green monster didn’t rear its ugly head. What you didn’t know is that it always did anyways. 

Countless arguments and fist fights were had over who you belonged to (none of them!), usually between Ran and Hanma. Shuji just loved to get under the older brother’s skin, it was one of his favorite past times, really. It never ended well for any of them, usually beating the shit out of each other. On more than one occasion you’ve walked in on the fights, muttering something about them ‘being idiot assholes’ and slamming the door before any of them could even get a word in. But recently...something’s changed, you could feel it.

Hanma, Sanzu, Rindou and Ran have all been particularly kinder to you, unbearably so. They’d all look at you with a devilish smile plastered on their face, hell they’ve even gone so far as to no longer fight in your presence. You were suspicious of them, narrowing your eyes whenever another made a snarky comment and there wasn’t a complaint to be heard. You kept your distance, feeling like something was really off. After a particularly stressful mission, one that spanned the length of a week and had so many intricacies it was making your head spin, it was decided that the five of you would go out drinking to celebrate. You needed to take the edge off after walking on thin ice for the last few days. You had arrived at the usual bar--one that Bonten owned and had a private balcony for the execs and Mikey whenever they decided to swing by. The others were already there, drinks being passed around. They quieted down when you arrived, feeding you drinks and shots to ‘get you on the same level as them’

“Hanma you fucking alcoholic, slow down” You cackled, shoving the beer he tried to give you out of your face. “Who knew you were such a lightweight.” Rindou spoke, taking a sip of his own beer with a drunken smile. You pouted, ripping his own drink away from him, “I’m not. The cocktails were fucking strong that’s all.” You took a sip before giving it back to him, turning to Hanma again with a sigh. “Fucking--fine, leave me alone after this!” You threw your inhibitions to the wind, chugging the bottle as the rest of the crew bursted out in excitement and laughter. “There you go, beautiful” You bristled at Ran’s words, ignoring them as best you could but he could already tell you were reacting to them. Hanma’s turn to speak, “we knew you could do it pretty girl.” He cooed, squeezing at your thigh. You couldn’t ignore that. “What are you morons up to?” You squinted, drunk or not you knew the four of them didn’t get along that well to not let those two remarks slide. Sanzu grinned something wicked, eyes wide coked out of his mind. “We have a proposition for you, pretty.” You waited. “Sleep with us.” 

You barked out a laugh, keeling over and holding your gut. “Funny fucking joke, cokehead.” You waited to hear any sort of commotion--even Hanma egging you on to actually sleep with him. But you heard nothing. Okay, now you were concerned. “...You’re joking right?” Rindou shrugged, chugging the rest of his beer. “Look, we all know you’ve fucked around with us one way or another. You know we want you.” You swallowed dryly. “Easiest for none of these motherfuckers to get jealous is if you fuck all of us.” (Rindou was also one of the jealous motherfuckers, but he’ll at least keep cool longer.) “That’s a fucking joke! Absolutely not, no fucking way in hell!” You knew, even if they kept trying to persuade you, at the end of the day they would let you be. They weren’t fucking monsters. ( You were a soft spot for them, is all.) They let it be for the rest of the night, continuing on as if nothing ever happened. But...you couldn’t let it go.

So when they all found themselves in a group chat with you, and a text from you, they grinned like the devil himself.

| We play by my rules or we don’t play at all. My place, 9 pm. Don’t make me regret this, assholes

-

“Fuck, look at you pretty girl, taking me so fucking well.” Tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, Ran’s cock ramming into the back of your throat as he face fucked you. You gagged and choked each time he pulled back, Ran growing more feral with each thrust hearing your pretty sounds and seeing your makeup run as you tried to steady your breathing through your nose. Behind you was Sanzu, kneading and slapping your ass as he shoved his cock deeper into your sloppy pussy. “Fuck, can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me.” The pink haired man groaned, spreading your cheeks to your drooling cunt swallow him up. “What a nasty little bitch.” One hand was occupied with Rindou, trying to keep up with his pace jerking him, though really he was more just fucking into your hand. “Move, Haitani.” Ah, the ever graceful Hanma. “My fuckin’ turn.” A tattooed hand ripped you off of Ran, taking the millisecond of opportunity to breathe in deep, before being shoved back down on another dick. Hanma pushed into your throat until your nose pushed up against his pubes, your free hand clawing at his stomach to give you a fucking minute. He hissed, pulling back and letting you breathe. “Don’t be a fucking asshole, Hanma.” You all but stuttered out, trying to keep your composure but a particularly harsh thrust right into that spongy spot deep within your cunt had you whining. “Fuck! Aah, Sanzu--shit.” You whimpered, looking back to see the wild eyes of the resident drug addict look at you with a smirk plastered on his face. “Yeah? You like that, baby? Like when I fuck that slutty little pussy?” He angled himself again to keep hitting that spot that made you see stars and you whined, nodding. They were overwhelming you in the best possible way and you didn’t know how you’d ever recover from this--how you’d ever fuck anyone else after this.

Hanma took your chin in his hands, trying to be more careful of you this time. “Don’t leave me hanging, angel, wanna see you choking on my cock.” You were starting to become so fucked out you nodded and licked a stripe up his long shaft, before swallowing him into your throat (at your own pace.) He groaned, hand gripping at your roots as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him off. You felt Rindou slip out of your hand and move towards the back of you. “Out the way druggie, I wanna taste her before you dickheads cum inside her.” Sanzu grumbled but complied anyway. Last thing anyone wanted to do was kill their boner by arguing. The younger Haitani spread your lips with two fingers, seeing your abused hole clench around nothing. “So fucking hot,” He murmured, gathering saliva in his mouth before spit right on your pussy, seeing his dribble out. The fingers that held you open moved to swipe at your clit, which caused you to moan around Hanma. “Fuck, whatever you’re doing back there keep going Haitani--moaning like a fucking whore around my cock.” He cackled, hand tightening in your hair almost painfully. But it felt so good you didn’t care. 

Rindou removed his fingers completely and licked a stripe up your wet slit. He let the muscle drag over your clit a few times before teasing your hole, dipping in before licking around your pussy again. The teasing was absolute torture, when all you wanted was to feel him inside you. He suckled at your nub with a groan, and slipped his tongue fully in you. He spread your cheeks fucking you with his tongue. Your muffled moans got louder,  grasping at anything you could get your hands on. Ran slipped in and grabbed your hand to place around his cock with a laugh. “Yo Rin, she’s fucking shaking bro, keep going.”  And you were, on the precipice of the strongest orgasm you think you’ll ever have in your life. You didn’t think that you’d ever be this turned on having sex with any of them--let alone all four at the same time. But they learned your body so quickly and used that information against you, brain melting. Hanma slipped out of your mouth, wanting to hear the wanton moans that were spilling out of your mouth. “Fuck! Rin, pleasepleaseplease don’t stop don’t sto-oh fuck!” You cried, tears slipping past those pretty lashes and your mouth shaped in a cute ‘o’ as you violently shook from your orgasm. You drenched Rindou’s face, and he happily lapped up all your juices with a laugh. “That’s what I’m talking about baby” he teased, sucking your clit into his mouth again until you had a second wave of shocks, now turning painful. You squealed , free hand pushing him away from your hole. 

“Rin, huh?” Hanma grabbed at your jaw, raising you up slightly from your knees so you were looking up at him. “If he gets first name then I wanna hear you call me Shuji, baby.” Your breathing was shaky, along with the rest of your body as you dumbly nodded. Your eyes were hazy and a small smile played at your lips--completely fucked out. “Look at her, fucking cockdrunk.” You had no idea who was talking anymore, barely paying attention as you tried to grab at the tall man in front of you. “Open up your mouth baby.” He cooed, and you immediately complied, sticking your tongue out. Suddenly you had a glob of spit in your mouth, some landing on your cheek too. Then you heard a laugh. “So fucking cute, go ahead and swallow baby girl.” Who you assumed was Hanma speaking, you did as you were told and showed him after, eyes that you didn’t even realize you closed fluttering open and waiting. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.” Sanzu turned your head closer to him, now kneeling to kiss you hotly on the mouth. It was all tongue and teeth, as you tried desperately to get closer to him. He licked into your mouth, sucking on your tongue and biting at your lips. The kiss left your lips swollen, you know it, but you didn’t care, bringing him back in after he let go. He mumbled a laugh in between kisses “someone’s needy.” 

You felt a mouth wrap around your nipple, and you keened, arching your back more into whoever was suckling at your chest. Ran, nipped at you, hearing you whimper at the short burst of pain before laving his tongue over in apology. “Let’s move you, baby. Lay on your back.” You complied, spreading your legs when your back hit the bed. The men around you groaned, all pumping their dicks as they saw the object of their desires and wet dreams so ready and willing to take them all. Rindou pulled you up, hanging your head over the edge of the bed and slapping his cock on your mouth. “Open up, baby.” He smirked, pushing his dick past your lips and seeing drool at the corners of your mouth. You had no energy to even blow him properly, letting him use you as a cock sleeve and fuck your mouth as he pleases. 

His thrusting only lasted a minute before a voice cut in, “let her up for a second, Haitani--wanna see that pretty face when I shove my dick in her.” Hanma ran a hand through his unkempt locks, lining his big cock to your hole and waited. “Come on baby, why don’t you tell daddy what you want?” He teased, laughing as you wiggled your hips towards him. “Hanma--” “Wrong.” You whined, moving more. “Shuji, please.” You whimpered, and he dipped the tip of his cock in to tease. “You know what I wanna hear~” You jut your lip out in a pout, “daddy please, I want your cock. Shuji, fuck me already.” He clicked his tongue. “I’ll let the attitude go f’now, see how far that gets you.” Suddenly his hips were flush against your and you felt like you got the wind knocked out of you. His pace was relentless, slamming himself into you over and over again. Your cries didn’t last long as Rindou abused your mouth again,  muffling most of the noise spilling from you. Sanzu bit and suckled marks into your skin--around your tits, on your chest, your waist, wherever he can get his mouth on. Ran fucked into your shaky hand, slapping the tit that wasn’t in Sanzu’s mouth. You cried, pussy clenching around Hanma who barked out a laugh. “The little freak likes it when you do that, Haitani.” Ran snickered, pinching harshly at your nipple before giving you another slap. “Yeah? Little baby likes it a little hard?” You could hear how cruel he sounded, but you didn’t care. The pain mixed with everything the men were giving you felt better than any drug Sanzu could supply you with. 

“Fuck, gonna cum down your throat, baby. Be a good girl and swallow it, yeah?” Rindou grunted, grabbing a hold of the sides of your face and fucked your mouth with vigor. It felt like he was in your stomach with how deep he was, Rindou loving the outline of his cock in your throat. “Fuck, baby, look at you.” He didn’t last long after that, spilling his cum straight down your throat with a moan, grinding on your face until he was done. You gasped when he finally let you go, swallowing down his cum as best you could without choking, some of it dribbling off the tip of his dick onto your face. You didn’t have much of a reprieve as Hanma took the opportunity to fuck into you hard, force shaking you on the bed. “Shuji, shuji! Fuck! “ You cried, clawing at the sheets trying to keep your head up to look at the way his cock pummeled your swollen cunt. “There you go, baby! Keep calling daddy’s name.” He snickered, spitting on your clit before letting his fingers rub at you. Your eyes rolling, feeling the impending orgasm bubbling higher up. Hanma pressed a hand down on your stomach as he angled himself, and you snapped. You were sobbing, your entire body shaking as your drenched him, trying to close your legs but he wouldn’t let you. “Shu--shuji no more” you whimpered as he laughed, letting go of your stomach but still fucking into your sloppy pussy. “Who knew you were a squirter, huh? Gonna make me fucking cum if you keep clenching baby.” His nasty words spurred you on, and even though you were exhausted you couldn’t help but tighten around him. 

A few more pumps and Hanma was emptying his balls into your cunt, stuffing you deep with his cum. He moved back to see it dribble out as you kept clenching around nothing. You couldn’t even think anymore--being tossed around like a rag doll before you were face to face with Ran. “Talk to me, pretty girl--you think you can keep going?” He sounded teasing, but you knew deep down he really was checking on you. You nodded, pulling him in to a bruising kiss before feeling him slip underneath you. “Want you to ride me, beautiful.” You lined yourself up with his length, pushing down and leaning over so he had a perfect view of your ass. “That’s what I’m talking about, angel.” He slapped your ass hard before gripping at your cheeks, bringing you down harder onto his cock with each pap, pap, pap. To your front, Sanzu’s cock slapped at your face, forcing you to open your eyes and look up at him. “Come on baby, use that pretty mouth on me.” You nodded once, and opened up wide to let him fill your mouth, sticking your tongue out underneath his shaft and bobbing your head. Ran met your bounces with a thrust up, using the momentum to his advantage to fuck you deeper. You kept crying, the overstimulation becoming borderline painful but it wasn’t enough, wanted all of their cum. Your hands gripped at Sanzu’s hips, slobbering on his cock, gagging and letting drool dribbled out of your mouth. You were a fucking mess, filled with cum, sweat and spit covering you. You should feel disgusting, but how could you? They were making you feel so good.

“Fuck me, beatiful. This pussy is still so fucking tight.” Ran practically wheezed, indenting your skin with small bruises on your hips with how harshly he was gripping at you. “Could fuck you every fucking day and you’d still be so fucking tight.” He pounded into you, cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. It hurt, but you still fucking liked it. Sanzu pushed you deeper onto him, seeing the spit and drool bubbling around him. “Sloppy little bitch,” he cackled. “Pretty baby can’t help but be messy, can you?” He taunted, facefucking you with no restraint. “Gonna cum inside you, beautiful, fuck. Need you to cum first.” A hand wrapped around to your swollen and abused clit, giving it a few slaps and rubbing at it, thrusting your cock up to rub at your walls and bring you crumbling down. Your orgasms were still pulsing your through veins, clenching him so fucking tight Rin ground you down and shot his load inside of you. You felt yourself fill to the brim with cum, two loads now covering your messy walls. 

Sanzu was right behind him, except he wanted to keep you messy. He pulled out enough to tip your head back and cum into your mouth, having the mess land on your cheeks, forehead, even your hair. Ran lifted you enough to slide from under you, holding you up when he felt you trembling and nearly collapsing. “Woah, hey baby come on lean back.” He cooed, having you lean on his chest as he motioned Hanma and Rindou to grab something to clean you up. “You okay?” He whispered, kissing at your temple that wasn’t covered in cum, feeling you nod against him. “Mhm, m’okay...” Your voice was low, throat raw from all the use. Ran smiled on your temple, moving away when Sanzu got closer to wipe away his mess from your face. “Looked so good covered in my cum, baby.” He laughed when you swatted at him. “Gonna have me dreaming of that face every night.” You groaned, “Sanzu, shut up.” smile evident in your voice. 

The men cleaned you up, and Hanma picked you up to bring you to the bath that Rindou had started for you. They were fucking assholes, but the least they could do was help you around after they fucked you nearly to unconsciousness. “Thank you, Shuji.” You murmured only for him to hear, petting his cheek as you looked around dazed. He kissed your palm, whispering a ‘you’re welcome, baby’ and letting you relax.

They’d be there when you were done, to ask if you needed anything else, to ask how you were feeling, and most importantly to ask if they could do this again some time.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/6/2025

i feel a little weird whenever i post an “incomplete” tuesdaypost but my brain is the consistency of mashed potato rn

listening

normal by emily jeffri off my spotify discover weekly. if you told me this song was created in 2011 i would believe you— a lot of vocals i associate with marina and the diamonds/recession indie pop of that era’s rapid range jumps, roller-coaster-scream, and sort of sing-spoken musical theater delivery. plus a beat i can only describe as very up-and-down?

she’s fucking nineteen which is an infant tbqh. very fun interview here

Q8: What would you tell someone who’s about to listen to your music for the first time?

A: Eat something really sour, maybe buy some poppers, cover yourself in spray-on glitter and go for a run in an empty street in the middle of the night. If you put enough glitter on it will float around you as you sprint along the dimly lit path. If going out isn’t an option, spin around in your bedroom - I will not judge you, this is a safe space.

-

reading

this is the part that’s going to have to come later bc i did read a lesbian romance novel and it was a lot

-

watching

im sitting on a lot of Andor thoughts until the season finishes and these thoughts finish percolating in my brain. i dont know that i super love the dropping-three-episodes-at-once style they’re going with but i suppose it makes sense as an artistic statement and its probably a good compromise between vomiting up the entire season at once and the normal weekly tv appointment of the first season.

anyway! everything is happening so much. just a really effective television show that would not work in any other format. thank you tony gilroy for my life.

i have very little interest in watching Skeleton Crew, the live action show with a gaggle of elementary schoolers, or the Mandalorian movie. i know why that’s coming to theaters (it will make a billion dollars) but it feels like it should be direct to VHS, especially with that show’s stated and explicit lack of interest in any sort of overarching storyline. if star wars was good i wouldn’t feel so strongly about it.

-

playing

nervous about two things in genshin 1) the next update which will have some Lore and 2) the next big map update coming soonish which is supposed to wrap up a lot of loose ends before we go into the last of the seven nations and kick off the endgame. it feels like they’re stalling and im genuinely not sure why. i don’t follow a lot of things as they’re actively coming out, and genshin has been in my brain on and off since about the start of the pandemic, so thinking about it ending (even if that end is about three or four years off) feels very strange!

-

making

potion of vanilla extract for the local crew (and perhaps coworkers?) christmas gifts. i will hopefully be flying back to the east coast to spend some sort of winter holiday with my siblings and i want to simplify the larger local friend group gift process which has, to be so for real, stressed me the fuck out these past two years. thinking about making those beeswax food wraps from a giant pile of thrifted nice linen handkerchiefs and including them in the gift bag bc i could play around with different dyeing techniques. however that would be an EXTREMELY crunchy granola gift for south texas lmao

had a very funny interaction at the liquor store bc i rolled up, told the alarmingly beautiful cashier “im making vanilla extract-“ and he held up one finger, silently led me behind a row of coolers to a corner of the store i did not know existed, and handed me this bottle of their most $7 rotgut liter of 40% vodka.

[yngtort]

— rednose ❄️

♫ Rudolph the red nose reindeer  ♫

Kinkmas day 2

xfem!reader. Mdni. 1kw. In which y/n gets asked about her favorite part about chris :). Enjoy <3 cw : drinking, cursing, face riding ofc.

If there was one thing about han jisung, it was that he really liked hosting parties.

Ones that’ll have you drunk off your ass until you can barely remember what happened the next day. And that’s only for a regular day— let it be a holiday, then You’re definitely fucked.

Like right now.

it’s only a small shindig and yet everyone’s words are already slurred. All 9 of you sat around a table, playing a hardcore game of truth or dare

with a drinking spin to it, per jisungs request.

Basically, if you didn’t do the dare given or get caught in a lie during truths, you’d have to drink. There was also this wild card thing, where if someone says a certain word everyone would have to drop to the floor and the last one there, would have to down the rest of the bottle.

you absolutely hated truth or dare. even in its non-liver-pickling-form.

You were a certified wuss puss and hated choosing dare, so you’d pick for truth through the whole round. But you were also bad at lying, so you also ended up drinking or telling some really embarrassing shit to your friends.

Even your boyfriend, Chris, was surprised by the things that he heard. Especially about the fact that at the beginning of your friendship, you didn’t exactly like him. Just “dealt” with him because he was jisungs friend.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like me.” Chris whined, head dramatically falling on to your shoulder. “What did I do to deserve this treatment?”

You flicked his forehead, “you stalked me.”

“I-“ he lifts his head, “I did not stalk you. you’re milking it.” Chris says, slightly offended.

“you took a picture of her schedule and changed your major just to talk to her.” Jeongin, who was on the other side of you, chimed in — and the both of you shared a quick high five.

“Down fucking bad. That’s crazy.” Hyunjin co-signed.

Chris rolled his eyes, “Shut up, I just wanted to make her fall for me.”

“By stalking me?” “It worked didn’t it?”

You sighed, “anyways, whose turn is it?”

The game continued on as planned. spinning the lil plastic bottle around, watching everyone crack under pressure and do up-scene things.

Changbin dares minho to kiss jisung— drink.

Seungmin asks jeongin if he was the one that ate his last bag of Cheetos — drink.

Felix asks Chris what’s the last thing he did on his phone. Texting you, obviously.

Everyone groans at the response and hyunjin reaches for the bottle again. You all watched as the thing twirls around, ready to choose its next victim.

“Fuck.” You groan as the head of the bottle slowly but surely stops in your direction.

“Well well well, if it isn’t mrs.truth.” Hyunjin said, deviously rubbing his hands together. “Do I really need to give you an option? Or should I just rip the bandaid off right now?”

“just spit it out, hwang. I don’t have all day.” you urge, mentally preparing yourself to drink that strong ass cocktail in your cup.

The blonde smirks at the weary look on your face before he parts his lips to speak, “y/n l/n, I ask of you-“

Everyone sighs, “oh here he go.” “shut it.”

“Anyways. What is your favorite part of Chris's body?” Hyunjin says finally and you can’t help but snort.

“Really? That’s it?” Changbin asks, slightly pissed. “all that build up for that lame ass question..”

Hyunjin holds his hands up, “my bad, couldn’t think of anything.”

“Welp, I’m not complaining.” You clap your hands together, a big smile on your face. The crew scowled at your happiness. They can stay mad for all you care.

“Okay… but what is your favorite part.” Chris asked looking at you intently. telling by the look on his face, he’d probably be happy with anything you say.

Which is why you don’t hesitate.

“Your nose.” You answer and watch as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“My nose?” He mimicked, hand reaching up to touch his the tip of said body part.

“You’re joking.” Jisung laughed, definitely not taking you seriously— but you were.

You shook your head, “nope. I’m being deadass.”

“Not on no corny shit, but you actually prefer his nose over something like his smile?”

“Or his dick” Seungmin adds and jeongin takes the shot glass out of his hands.

“You’ve drunk enough-“

Chris and the rest of them are perplexed by your answer, whole table erupting in questions of ‘why the hell’ and ‘what the fuck’.

“Guys, I don’t know why- I just find it attractive.” You try to settle them down but they just won’t give it up.

“You mean to tell me you just woke up one day and was like damn, I like his nose??” Hyunjin pushed on.

“yea actually.” You agree because to be honest, that’s pretty much what happened. excluding the things that led up prior to that revelation.

You remember it like it was yesterday,

—

It was one of those lazy days for you and Chris. Neither of you wanting to move from your position on the couch anytime soon. chris laying with his arms around your waist and you’re basically on top of him, hands carding through his hair.

Just being cozy with your boyfriend, in his hoodie, sharing kisses— soft ones for now.

But when his leg, that was slotted between your thighs, presses up against you : the small pecks turn into a full out makeout sesh.

You moan onto his lips as you rock your hips needily against his thigh. It was hard at first, Chris had to help you a bit by holding your sides and guiding you. But once you got the hang of it, you were a complete mess.

You pull back from the kiss, trying to focus on rutting your slutty heat on him. “C-Chris.” You stuttered out, glossy eyes looking down at him hungrily.

“What’s the matter, pretty?” He asks with a sickening sweet expression like he’s just ready to fulfill any demand you make.

“I want you so bad-“ you whine, “want you to touch me.”

Chris tilted his head, “oh yea? touch you where? Here?” He pushed his thigh further against you, making you choke on a moan.

“God, please yes.” Your boyfriend chuckles at your vocal response.

“Since you’re asking so nicely, how about we try something new today?” He suggests and your movements come a halt.

“Something like what?” You pounder, looking at him skeptically.

“Sit on my face.”

“E-excuse me?” Did you hear him correctly? He wanted you to what now?

“Chris… I don’t know.” You say, heat rising up from the back of your neck. There was no way you were getting your thick ass up there. Like yea, it seems hot in books— but you’re not the dainty little main character.

You had thighs 2x bigger than his head and yet he wanted you to suffocate him.

Chris sighs as he watches those gears in your head turn, already knowing the inner fight you were probably having with yourself.

“Y/n, just trust me. I know what I’m doing.” He persuades, thumbs softly rubbing your thighs in a reassuring manner. “I just want to take care of you, baby.”

lip tucked between your teeth, you think for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt to try….you’ve always thought about doing it, and the way your boyfriend was begging…fuck it

“Fine.”

Chris was ecstatic watching you stand up and pull off your shorts. He was already eating up the thought of you fucking his face in his favorite hoodie. “Cmere, sweetheart.” He beckons, holding out his hand for you.

You take it timidly, still not sure on how this was gonna turn out. Chris instructs you onto his face, thighs on both sides of his head while you held onto the armrest of the couch.

It was so embarrassing. Even though chris has eaten you out before, it’s just the angle that got to you….that’s why you still haven’t sat down fully, still scared of crushing your man.

“Y/n.” Chris calls from below, growing impatient.

“don’t rush me I’m freaking out up here.”

the male rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around your thighs and forcing you down. Whatever fear you had just a few seconds ago disappeared as Chris circles your clit with his tongue.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you moan, head tossed back in pleasure.

Chris grunts as he slides down, dipping into your gushing hole. He drinks up every drop, licking up every part of your spongy insides. then there’s his big nose, nudging and flicking your clit, giving you that extra amount of satisfaction.

this sends you into an absolute feral state. hips grinding down as you bit down on the sleeve of Chris’s hoodie, trying to keep in your cries.

Chris doesn’t take to lightly to that. He loves hearing your voice, especially when he’s supplying you good head. So out of spite, his lips latch back on to your Sensitive bud— sucking on it like he was trying to leave a hickey there.

and you're crying your heart out, the feeling was so intense you just could not sit still. but Chris had you in such a tight hold, It was impossible for you to run away.

“wait, fuck, Im gonna cum!” You sob, body trembling at how fast your orgasm hits.

soft hiccups leave your lips as Chris slurps up the remnants of your high, tongue laid out flat as you ride it out.

-

“so that’s why you like my nose so much?” Chris laughs as he pulls up in your drive way.

“Stop acting like you don’t know.” you huff, the tip of your ears warming up.

“Sorry, sorry” your boyfriend snickers before leaning and pulling you into chaste kiss, drinking the alcohol taste off your tongue.

You pull back, “round two?”

“I’m game.”

:)

Tinytag list (open, comment if you wanna be added) : @foxinnie8 @panjakes @sydnerss @sunnyyangie

[kleinewahines]

None of this felt right. This was not how he imagined their reunion to go. Antagonistic. Cold. Asocial. Too many unknowns... Too much worrying this was not in fact the real Shepard so it was far easier to keep some of himself closed off than to dive in and slam his face into the pavement when it turned out he'd been talking to some kind of clone or simply a Shepard that wasn't the one he remembered.

"Keeping you honest, Shepard, is what I've always been here for," he said then, a glint of something in his eye that so far had stayed emotionless even when his temper had been stoked. And though the wording could have been snotty, there was a bit of the old Kaidan there in his voice -- soft, gentle. He had been the Second Officer on the SR-1 for a reason (Logged: The Commanding Officer is ashore. XO Pressly has the deck). Anderson had trusted Kaidan to always steer Shepard in the correct direction. Watch her, Alenko. Keep her aimed towards Polaris.

He eyed her silently, the smallest hint of pain in his eyes and the set of his mouth. There were too many unknowns and he simply did not like not having more blanks filled in. If it had been him... but it wasn't. (And there was guilt, so much fucking guilt! He survived. Why did he survive? Why was he special? Why did he deserve to live but Shepard didn't?) It wasn't and he couldn't say how he would be coming out of a coma two years later to a galaxy both drastically different and distressingly the same.

Sure, the SR-1 crew had been sounding the alarm in the two years that Shepard was being put back together. But Kaidan was exposed to constant radio silence on the Reaper threat in that time as well. And it drove him nuts. And so he was cautious, jaded, and oh so very tired like a man twice his age.

His thoughts wandered to the fact that when he went to report in, he would be passing the apartment block of a woman he had been seeing off and on for a while. After giving up hope that Shepard could possibly be alive somewhere. No body, no death, right? Two years was a long time to be alone. Kaidan didn't do well with alone. And maybe he should mention her. But he would not. Not here. He had wounded Shepard enough as it was. Wounded himself enough. Martyring himself, just like on Virmire.

There would be a reckoning at some point. But today was not the day for it. Biotics flickered around him again, a hint of the turmoil he was feeling in every fiber of his being. The blue glow traced his arms and torso before dying away like wisps of smoke. The only way for Kaidan to figure out the conundrum that was Shepard standing there, alive, was to look at everything from a detached distance. He had to be someone he wasn't in order to protect his own heart and brain. Two. Years.

Clearing his throat, he rose to his full six foot something height (he was taller on the ship than he was on the Citadel thanks to the changes in artificial gravity strength meaning his spine was either compressed or allowed to spread which accounted for his height). He finally took a small sip of the water from the bottle he had used more as a stimming tool than anything.

"I feel like most of it Anderson already knows. He clearly sent me in your path," he admitted, using his biotics to spin the bottle in his hands far faster than he physically could have done it. His lack of asking her to go with him wasn't done as a slight. He just didn't think Shepard could get away with it right now. And she seemed to have other plans, regardless.

A pause then he offered his first wide smile. "I'd stay away from anything green," he said. And maybe that was the first sign that Kaidan was beginning to adjust to this new normal of having Commander Shepard back so he could continue to play 'does she, doesn't she'.

Being a Commander now afforded him the privilege of having his own little apartment rather than sleeping in the barracks on the Citadel. It was very Spartan, but he didn't spend much time on the Citadel these days, anyway. But it was where he kept his dress blues.

As he predicted, Anderson wasn't too surprised by the 'news' of Commander Shepard not being dead after all. He did, however, express concern about the existence of the Normandy SR-2. It hadn't been in Kaidan's purview to get any kind of intel on the ship itself beyond what he had seen and noticed just wandering through the third deck and the second. He didn't have much on EDI, or how they had made a bigger version of the Normandy somehow work at all. And even kept some of the original Normandy's Turian designs. He hadn't been there as a spy. He had been a guest slash prisoner. When Anderson asked how the Commander 'seemed', Kaidan could only shrug and try to explain Shepard's reasoning for working with Cerberus at all (just because he didn't quite agree with the logic, didn't mean he didn't understand it).

By the end of it, he was exhausted. Like he had been put through the ringer. But, hey, on the other hand he definitely could use a beer.

He was too exhausted, in fact, to change out of the dress blues. So instead, just like when he had graduated from the Academy, he wandered into the bar wearing the fanciest clothes he owned. No cover, and no cover. No worries.

The L2 biotic was more often found to be drinking in privacy than in a bar, but. Luckily the beer he wanted was available, just not on tap. That was fine; sometimes it was more preferable to be in a bottle instead (but never a can because it made it taste weird; Kaidan tasted enough weirdness as it was as a biotic and also he had shocked himself numerous times with canned beverages and liked to avoid that).

His eyes a few shades of brown darker than the beer in his hand grazed over the crowds of people. It was only when a krogan clearly loaded with ryncol moved a little off to his left did Kaidan catch sight of Kat. He flowed through the crowd, dodging everyone while keeping a thumb over the top of the bottle of beer to prevent spilling.

Kaidan cocked his head to the side then leaned in.

"C'mere often?" he asked, mouth quirking into an easy smile.

Kat was having more difficulty than she expected reading her old friend. He felt… cold, in a way, compared to before. It hurt to think about; had her death really taken that much of a toll on him? She’d always understood him to be a warm and inviting presence, and she’d admired that about him; it was a part of him that made even her, closed off as she was, feel comfortable and safe, in a sense. Now he seemed cold, almost callous in a way, and that struck a chord in her.

Another person who’d changed as a result of her death—who’d changed because she’d left.

Kaidan may not have thought that BAaT and the Alliance were the same as Cerberus and their crimes, but Kat knew full well there was an element of truth to her choice of words. It held the same principles, and that was the point: things weren’t always black-and-white, and sometimes, the shades of grey were the real things a person had to learn to distinguish. Katrina only saw the world in shades of grey; it was one of the reasons she was as good at doing what she did. Her only response to his statement was a brief raise of her eyebrows, a silent ‘sure, pretend I’m wrong’ that she didn’t dare voice in case it made the situation worse.

But at the mention of secrets and his admission that a few of them had mysteriously malfunctioned, she almost laughed. Almost. The old Kat would’ve had a quip or two to make about it; probably some sarcastic comment about how worried she was about it (when in reality, she wasn’t). But instead… she was quiet, almost nervous, a hint of uncertainty in her tone as to whether it was appropriate for her to joke or not.

Regardless, it was exactly what she’d expected, and it was the reason she hadn’t wanted to have a conversation with him on the ship; she’d kept things strictly business on board for that reason, and she intended to do just that. But she listened, hearing him out; he had experience in the colonies, and she’d grown up in the colonies. That was experience that, when combined, was deeply useful in the situation they were in. But he wasn’t wrong about disagreement; that was something she had to consider. She was certain that if she disagreed with him on anything, it would be for a good reason, but she had to take into account the Cerberus crew members. The less tension between anyone, the better. At least she knew, for the time being, that she was the one in charge.

But then… her name. That alone caught her attention; she’d been referred to as Shepard for so long, it almost felt like the personal name she had was forgotten. She was Katrina—preferably Kat—Shepard, not just Shepard. At the mention of splashing her with water, though… there was a hint of a smile there, one that ghosted across her features, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. She took a breath as if to say something, but thought better of it. What she’d been about to say was that she hoped he’d shoot her if Cerberus really was screwing with her, but that wasn’t a topic she wanted to breach right now. He didn’t need to know she was asking the same questions about herself, about her own existence, that he’d been asking her. He needed to see her conviction, her determination—not her fractured emotional state. Nevertheless, subtle signs slipped through; the faint tremble in one of her hands, the way her thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist, like she was trying to calm herself, the way her breaths were controlled and even—too controlled and even to be natural.

“I trust your experience and knowledge. I trust your insight into situations. I’m not going to listen to everything, because even you can be wrong—but if I’m not going to listen, I know it’s going to be for the right reasons. I ignored both you and Ash on Virmire, and I don’t think any of us regret that.” A necessary one, and she understood his decision, but she’d be lying if it hadn’t resulted in the situation being more difficult than it needed to be. But despite the statement he’d made… she wasn’t sure she could agree to that, not when she didn’t believe it herself. She couldn't agree that he shouldn't consider her a lost cause if things seemed too off. But she also was sure he needed to hear that she believed it--that she believed she was the same person from two years ago.

Her feelings on it didn't matter.

“I trust that if I’m making a decision that’s not in the best interest of the greater good… you’ll tell me,” she finally said after too long of a pause. Checking the time on her omni-tool, she glanced over at him. “You’d, uh… better not keep Anderson waiting. In the meantime… I need a damned drink.” She paused, hesitant to offer; her thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist over her pulse, a nervous gesture. “Probably at the Dark Star Lounge.” She couldn’t quite find the courage to ask him directly to join her, but hopefully, he’d at least want to have a more casual and less tense conversation with her, if nothing else. Something relaxed. Something friendly.

[zzzallnite]

Work hard, play harder

It was a little after midnight at the company party. Justin, alongside his coworkers Eric and Mick, were the last three to stay behind. Justin was the youngest, and also the latest addition to the office out of the three. Like any other new employees, he was a little timid, and struggling to adapt to the new environment. However, he was lucky that he soon had not one, but two senior workers behind his back. Sure, Eric and Mick might be slightly more enthusiastic than those he had worked with before, but for him anything that makes life easier counts.

After the bar closed down for the night, the three men retreated to a hotel room booked by the firm for those who did not wish to drive home after a long evening of drinking. There was a rather large city view room with a king sized bed. Mick opened his secret bottle of whiskey and the men continued drinking. Justin was never a fan of heavy liquor, but that whiskey was god-damn smooth. He ended up finishing the whole thing nearly by himself, while the other two were just looking at him smiling. Around 2 a.m. the men started to feel the effect of the alcohol kicking in. Eric tried to cool down by loosening his tie and kicking off his Oxford shoes, revealing a moist and steamy sheer OTC with gold toe. Mick followed suit and took off his footwear, showing off his ribbed black socks. The men sat next to each other on the couch with their feet on the coffee table. Justin, leaning against the bed frame across the table, felt a little intimidated, yet fascinated by his seniors’ huge feet. However, the alcohol had made all of his inhibition disappeared, as he stood up and joined the other men on to the couch, in the middle.

“We should play something…”, said the junior salesman as he looked at Mick and Eric. At that moment, Justin’s head was already spinning as if he was riding on a merry-go-round, with his colleagues’ wiggling socked feet floating around him. He barely noticed the grin on the face of his colleagues.

“Sure, why not? What game should we play?”, said Mick.

“I’ve got an idea,” said Eric, “I could teach you guys some cool moves from the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu class I have been taking. It’s completely safe, according to my instructor…”

“Do me!”. Justin just blurted out of his drunken mouth. He was so excited that now he got to bond with those he had been looking up to.

“Ok, then. Come here”, said Eric as he signaled Justin to lay out on the couch, leaning against him. Eric loosened Justin’s tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt to make him feel more comfortable, and to make sure that his younger coworker could breathe when the demo was finished. Eric rubbed his hand around the young man’s pectorals to relax him. On the other side, Mick was doing his part by taking off Justin’s shoes and massaging his feet. The scent of the salesman’s black acrylic crew strangely aroused Mick, whose hands now crawled up Justin’s pants and fiddled the leg hairs around the cuff of his socks.

“You should be able to wake up after 10 seconds or so”, said the BJJ brown belt Eric. He then locked Justin’s head with his arm and applied a rear naked choke on his junior colleague. The pressure of the grip increased, and Justin’s crotch area also also begun to tighten, as he started flashing back to the summer where he had lost to a sleeper hold by his cousin during a race to the last popsicle at their grandparents’ house. Noticing the growing bulge inside Justin’s pants, Mick unfastened his belt and pulled down both his pants and  black boxer brief. As soon as his bird was free from the cage, Justin’s eyes rolled to the back of his head and the lack of oxygen to his brain in combination with alcohol in his blood knocked him out cold completely for the rest of the night.

 The next morning, Justin woke up with a pounding headache. He had drunk hard a few occasions in his life, but this time the aftermath felt slightly… different. He rubbed his eyes and realized that he was lying on a hotel bed, and as he lifted up the cover, he noticed that he was completely undressed to only his black crew socks. It felt sticky down there, both his cock and butt crack. There was also a rather unusual taste in his mouth, sweat but slightly fishy. He looked around to find his cell phone; even though it was already weekend, he was worried that he might be late for work, as a reflex. When he turned on the phone, his lock screen had been changed to another picture - the picture from the previous night, of the three colleagues on a blackout-drinking night-out:

Checking his message box, Justin found only one new, from last night:

“Thx for the wonderful night. Welcome to the club. Eric. P/s Don’t worry, our socks were on the whole time so it wasn’t gay”

[nerdiel-has-no-braincells]

BLLK Boys’ Theme Songs

I recently listened to some songs on my playlist and one song in particular reminded me of Rin and it made me laugh, so here is what I think would be their song

Warning: Language

Rin Itoshi

Mwtwb - AmaLee

Mirror mirror, on the wall

Who's the baddest bitch of all - it's me

No need to think - no need to think

Mirror mirror, on the wall

Who's the baddest bitch of all - it's me

No need to think I know it's me

I never take shit from anybody

Don't know why you think it was wise to cross me

If ya got a death wish, then I'm listening

I'll end the life that you're living

Just call me your genie

Meguru Bachira

Crying While You’re Dancing - Dayseeker

Look at yourself in the mirror

Distorted, but I see it clearer

Life of the party when you're

Crying while you're dancing

Spinning in the backseat

I guess you got what you want

I guess it's not enough

Crying while you're dancing

Yoichi Isagi

Last Surprise - Lyn

You try to run me through

Hold on, think again

Don't you know what you're starting?

But you sure ain't got a clue

How bad this will go

Don't you know, know my art? (Art of war)

And as you look to the horizon, not a cloud

But then stormy weather's caught you cold

Seems like it crept up out of nowhere all around you

It's not quite what you foretold

You'll never see it coming

You'll see that my mind is too fast for eyes

You're done in

By the time it's hit you, your last surprise

Seishirou Nagi

Colors - Crossfade

I know you feel alone, yeah, and no one else can figure you out

But don't you ever turn away from the ones that help you down

Well they'd love to save you, don't you know they love to see you smile?

But these colors that you've shined are surely not your style

Reo Mikage

Power - EXO

Don’t hesitate Move on

Come on, there’s no time

Your future depends on your imagination

Throw away your fears, we are allowed to

Because you hold every key

I dreamt of you without falling asleep

I hope, hope that I don’t forget about you

Today how about if we

Burn it up together

As if we became one, Feeling feeling

So turn me up

Michael Kaiser

Contradiction ft. Tyler Carter - KSUKE

You make it look easy

I'm thinking hard right now

'Cause I know that you want me

From the inside out

You got me speechless

Opening my mouth

I was keeping it secret

But the word got out

You're fast, then you're slow

Why you cold, then you're forward?

You're luring me out now

'Til your walls come down

Yes, then you're no

But I'm not letting go

I'll be your contradiction

Hyoma Chigiri

Unbreakable - Fireflight

Where are the people that accuse me?

The ones who beat me down and bruise me

They hide just out of sight

Can't face me in the light

They'll return but I'll be stronger

God, I want to dream again

Take me where I've never been

I want to go there

This time I'm not scared

Now I am unbreakable, it's unmistakable

No one can touch me

Nothing can stop me

Rensuke Kunigami

Revive - Hands Like Houses

In a way we are all connected

Threaded together

In a way we are all suspended

Bound going nowhere

Wake up

Walk on the wires

Defeat and define

Wake up

Evolve and escape

Unravel, unmake yourself

We speak in tongues

And we walk on the wires between

We don't belong here

We are the sleeping sickness

The dancing dreams

We don't belong here

We're invaders from the inside

We're survivors in silver skin

Shapeless, we move

Unwinding the wires between

We don't belong here

Oliver Aiku

All I Wanna Do - Jay Park

Girl, pardon me I don't mean to be rude

But I got some paper wanna spend it on you

All I wanna do, is kick it with you

Bottles on deck for you and your crew

Baby swing by, girl you should come through

All I wanna do, is kick it with you

Girl look at you baby

Almost looking flyer than me

And I, I got that gold rollie

With the benzel and Louis Vuitton on my body

And I know that shit don't impress you

So no bullshit girl nothin' extra

Girl I ain't with playing games

I wanna take you home I'm just being frank, oh yeah

I've been fantasizing 'bout you girl all night

Put yo panties to the side if it's alright

Jyubei Aryu

WooAh Hip - MAMADOL

Elegant, HIP

Welcome, Ready for Queen’s back

I’ll do my own thing

On stage again

A familiar feeling

A revived trembling ohh

The best moment to be painted again

Blow, dance, wind, wind, wind, pleasant this rebellion

Everyone wannabe a be like me

(It took everything in me to not put it as Barbie Girl)

Going through my playlist made me want to do a relationship & break up song list for these bbs, so look forward to that!

Blue Lock is created and owned by Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura

©️nerdiel-has-no-braincells Please do not copy without permission or approval

[vulcanvampyr]

Can you do Ed and Stede dancing after their wedding/matelotage ceremony?? I’m imagining they’d have a party with the crew afterwards. I just really want more Ed/Stede slow dancing content in this fandom I think it’s the best🥹

"This," Ed chuckles into Stede's ear, "Has been the least thought-out part of the entire day."

It's been an evening of laughter and singing and drink. Of promises over entwined fingers, of Oluwande reciting sacred, bonding words meant only for the ocean and the crew--public and private all at once. Now, Frenchie plays a waltz-adjacent tune on his lute a little ways down the deck, Wee John sat beside him adding a bit of percussion.

It's well into the early hours of Stede and Ed's first day of marriage. Aside from the melody, there's light chatter, crew members lolling on their feet and on each other's shoulders to keep awake, some--like Fang, who's made a basket of Roach's signature biscuits his pillow--having long succumbed to sleep.

Stede's arms are firm around Ed's shoulders. Ed braces Stede's back and runs a thumb along his hip.

Guiding Ed in a side-to-side shuffle to the song, Stede rubs the thumbs of his locked hands on the nape of Ed's neck and replies thoughtfully, "Hm. I suppose you're right."

Ed shrugs under Stede's embrace. "Thought you'd be into, I dunno. Some kind of choreography. Since it's our first dance, and all."

"Is that what you wanted, darling?" The start of a frown creeps its way onto Stede's face, and Ed quickly shakes his head.

"Been to plenty of parties in my time; even more matelotage ceremonies than that. I know my right foot from my left. Would've been easy enough to learn." Stede's eyes: hazel-hopeful-honey. Ed's lost, where he'll happily stay. "But, uh. I don't think I really care about any of that? Right now?"

"Me either," Stede murmurs. He's looking up at Ed with an expression of doe-like affection, unblinking as if in a trance, pupils blown, mouth quirked upward in a small smile. "Couldn't care less, actually."

"I just like the idea of..." Ed trails off, stepping out of Stede's arms. Stede pouts a little at the loss of contact; Ed winks, and then Stede understands, a wide smile breaking across his face. Ed snatches his hand and spins him around, catching Stede before he's made a full turn to dip him just a little, bracing the small of his back with one hand and lifting Stede's hand to kiss his fingers with the other, his surprised little laugh the best music Ed's ever heard.

"Holding you," Ed finishes headily, feeling his face flush despite himself.

Stede reaches up to brush a knuckle across Ed's cheekbone. "I should think you'll be able to do that quite a bit going forward," he whispers after a beat. "Forever, perhaps?"

Ed lifts them both upright again and plants a kiss into Stede's hair before resting his forehead against Stede's. "Sounds nice."

They return to their former stance, Ed finding the rhythm of Stede's steps and syncing up to them.

Meanwhile, the crew look on in a combination of fondness and confusion.

"What're they even doin'?" Ivan takes a swig of ale from the lip of an almost-empty bottle.

"Swaying back and forth?" The Swede says helpfully.

"That's not dancing though," Pete is quick to clarify. "I mean, look at them. They're all dressed up in the blue and purple and shit--"

"Cerulean and lavender; I meticulously chose the color scheme, thanks--"

"--Sorry, babe. But Stede planned every second of this wedding down to the spice level in the meat pies--"

"--Don't remind me," Roach snaps, dropping his head back against the mast.

"--So my question is, where's the big finale?"

"Yeah, they're just standing there." Jim tilts their head toward the dawn-tinted sky, eyes closed, craning their neck this way and that in a morning stretch. "It's weird."

"Maybe, er," Oluwande shuffles his feet a little, playfully knocking Jim's knee. "Maybe this part isn't for us. Maybe it's just for them."

"Christ. That's--that's beautiful," Wee John mutters over his shoulder, lifting a hand off his drum to wipe at a stray tear.

Pete rolls his eyes, though he slings an arm around Lucius' shoulders and squeezes. "Whatever. I don't even think they're moving to the music."

"Oh." Frenchie abruptly halts, letting his lute fall to his side. "I'm tappin' out, then. Who wants a whiskey? Hair of the dog and all that."

"I'm in..."

"...Somebody wake Fang up. Is Izzy still having a sad boy moment at the helm?"

"...We should go get 'im ..."

The newlyweds hear none of this. They don't even hear the music stop.

Stede says, nuzzling Ed's nose a little, "I didn't think I could."

"Hm?" Ed lets his lashes flutter lazily; he's content just hearing the sounds of Stede breathing, his voice, the myriad ways this man surrounds him.

"Love like this. Until you."

Ed opens his eyes again. Stede is looking at him, gaze full of promise. Ed feels his own eyes well with wet adoration, and before he can let himself get too caught up in the feeling, he cups Stede's face in his hands and kisses him. Stede hums into his mouth and Ed knows this, right here, this is it. This is what he spent decades at sea searching for, and he didn't even know it.

He hopes the kiss is a reply: Me either. Until you.

Until death do us part.

Neither of them can recall, later, how long they stood there holding each other. The sun comes up, casting morning shadows over their intertwined bodies at the start of their forever.

send me ficlet requests for my fandoms

[collecting-stories]

Jealous - Luke Patterson

Summary: You bring a friend to a concert with you and Luke gets the wrong idea. 

A/N: this it like, alive!Luke, it’s also like 3k long 😭😭

Julie and the Phantoms Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

Luke pouted, leg twitching as he looked around the small venue that Alex had booked them that night. The doors had only just opened and people were beginning to stream in. They’d played shows before but Luke was still surprised watching people come through the doors. He honestly couldn’t believe anyone had bought tickets. There was no doubt in Luke’s mind that they were the greatest band ever but seeing other people agree with that sentiment always made him feel like he was on cloud nine. Hanging a little over the second-floor balcony of the venue, watching every person that walked through the door, he wanted to be excited but his nerves had nothing to do with the show tonight.  

“Would you chill man?” Alex chided, tapping Luke’s arm with a bottle of water. “She’ll be here.”

“She hasn’t missed a performance yet.” Reggie pointed out, spinning on a stool that he’d nabbed from the bar.

“Yeah, I know that.” Luke insisted, standing up but glancing back over his shoulder, “she said she’d make it before doors though...”

Ever since Julie had started playing with the guys, you had started hanging around more. You were embarrassed to say but you and Julie had been little more than friendly neighbors before she’d starting renting out her garage for band practice. The first time you’d heard the loud music coming from the Molina’s yard you’d gone to inspect and found the doors open and a band rehearsing inside. Needless to say, it was that first meeting that had cemented yours and Luke’s relationship. Not exactly more than friends but certainly not just friends. The more you came around the more the two of you danced around your feelings for each other and the more you neglected your other friends.  

-

“Just, don’t say anything to the guys-”

“You mean, don’t say anything to Luke.” Julie countered, standing at her locker with you in between classes. Tonight, was the show at the Voltage Lounge and they’d been stoked about it since they got the gig. You would’ve been equally stoked, and you were, until you realized it was also your best friend’s birthday and you had promised to get dinner together.  

“Look, I’ll be there, before doors, I promise. But I’ve kinda been ditching my other friends lately and I promised Mikey that we’d get dinner for his birthday.” You replied, shutting your locker and walking with Julie toward the music room.  

“Don’t you think not telling Luke you’re going out with another guy would be worse than saying you’re gonna be a little late to the show?” Julie countered. She grabbed a seat by Flynn and you sat on the other side, leaning forward to keep the conversation going.  

“I just don’t want him thinking I’m ditching the performance okay, me and Mikey are just friends...as are me and Luke.” You replied, though even saying it sounded like a lie. You knew as well as Julie and Flynn that you were avoiding mentioning the dinner because you didn’t want Luke to get the wrong idea.  

“You tell yourself that.” Flynn chided, pulling a face at you, clearly not believing you at all.  

“We are.”

“Yeah, and anytime he sings anything even slightly romantic he looks right at you.”

“It’s true,” Julie piped up, “he’s been coming up with a lot more love songs recently. Whenever I ask him about it he just says he wants us to have a balanced song pool or something.”  

“We’re not a thing.” You insisted. “I’m going to dinner and then I’ll be at the show...simple as that. Just, don’t say anything.”  

Julie agreed, throwing out some lame excuse about you having to go over your grandparents’ house before the show as a reason that you weren’t going to the venue with them like you usually did. Getting booked somewhere as a headliner was still fairly new to them and you always liked to be there in the moments before the show started, an extra person to reassure them that they completely and totally deserved all of this.  

While you didn’t think your absence would be felt too exponentially, it definitely was. Luke had been unusually antsy since they’d gotten there. He was always eager to get onstage but this was different, he kept looking over the railing as if he was going to hurl and rush out of the venue. Reggie tried reassuring him that everything was fine but nothing seemed to calm his nerves.  

“Hey, ten minutes alright, start getting ready,” one of the crew said, scribbling something on his clipboard.

“Okay, thanks.” Julie nodded, looking back over the railing as he left, the calm she was trying to portray immediately washing away when she saw you walk into the venue. Any other time she would’ve been jumping for joy but you weren’t alone and she could only assume that the guy with you was the Mikey you had mentioned earlier in the day. “So we should-” as she turned to address them, hopefully distract Luke, Reggie caught sight of you in the crowd.

“Look!” He nudged Luke’s arm, pointing you out, “she made it.”

Julie grimaced as Luke looked over the balcony and down into the crowd. It took him a moment to find you but Julie and Alex could pinpoint the exact moment that he did. A flicker of happiness at the sight of you, quickly washed away and turned into, first confusion, and then something akin to anger. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he watched you get a spot on his side, talking the whole time to the guy with you.  

“Who the fuck is that?” He asked.  

You had told Julie that your plan was to go, get through dinner with Mikey, and then come straight to the venue for the show. A simple enough evening, and you’d expected it to go off without a hitch except Mikey got curious about who you were texting and guilted you into inviting him along.  

“So, this band?” Mikey asked, looking around the small venue, “how’d you become a groupie?”

“I’m not a groupie. Julie and I are friends.” You stressed, scrunching your nose up as the lights dimmed and the people around you screamed in excitement.  

The anticipation was palpable and, truthfully, you were right there with the other concert goers around you, excited by the prospect of seeing Julie and the Phantoms perform live. It wasn’t something that was new for you, a front row seat to all their rehearsals was part of your everyday life and yet, something about seeing them perform live like this, with a crowd that so responsive to them, only added to the adrenaline coursing through you.  

As the guys ran out on stage, Alex, then Reggie, then Luke, and finally Julie, the noise level around you seemed to pick up. But there was something off, something that didn’t quite sync with you that settled as the first chords sounded. You frowned, realizing, as Luke purposely missed you when he scanned the crowd, exactly what it was that you were feeling. It wasn’t accidental in the slightest, Julie met your gaze more than once and so did Reggie and Alex but Luke was ignoring you. He was very intentionally ignoring you standing there in the very front row, pressed against the barricade in front of him.

It was as if someone had knocked all the air out of your chest. Somehow that loud, crowded venue where you could feel the bass pounding in your stomach, felt empty. You felt small and invisible and even when Mikey shouted in your ear that they were actually an awesome band you lacked the excitement to tell him that they were the best band ever. You just nodded. And as much as you wanted to look away from Luke, a silent “two can play at this game”, you didn’t. Instead, you just kept watching him, waiting for him to look your way and somehow explain what was going on that had him acting like you didn’t exist.  

-

The encore ended, the boys each running off the stage before Julie, Luke standing at the side waiting for her as she waved one last time to the crowd before setting the mic back in its stand and running off. The mass of people who had been screaming lulled into a buzz, some of them leaving as others lingered, waiting for the band to come back out to sign autographs and take pictures.  

You walked Mikey to the merch table while other people hung around chatting with each other, the house lights up so that you could actually see as you walked. Flynn stood behind the table and she waved when she saw you.  

“I’ll catch you later, thanks for letting me tag along.” He said, hanging at the door for a minute.

“Yeah totally, thanks for coming. Happy birthday,” you hugged him and then circled back to Flynn, stepping behind the table and sitting down on the stool.  

“Girl, you do not seem happy.” Flynn commented as she grabbed a sweatshirt from one of the boxes and handed it across the table to a fan.  

“I’m just...” you shrugged, looking back down toward the stage, “confused?”  

“Did something happen with Mikey?” She asked.  

You handed a shirt from one of the bins to her as she rung up a sale, jumping in to ask a few people what they needed as she waited on a group of girls. When they had all finally dispersed, the line lulling for a moment, you turned back to Flynn, “no...I mean other than him inviting himself along. No, it was Luke...he was like, it sounds dumb to say it but, it was like he was ignoring me.”

“Maybe he didn’t see you?” She suggested, attempting to be reassuring.  

“He saw me. Then he just, acted like he didn’t the whole rest of the night.” You replied, “I don’t know...it felt shitty.”

“You know who you should tell that to?”

“Luke?” You asked, already knowing her answer. Flynn was the queen of confrontation.  

“Exactly.”

You frowned, the last thing you wanted to do was talk to Luke. If he was going to ignore you the way he had on stage, Flynn had been trying to make you feel better but you knew he was avoiding you for some reason. He always made it a point to find you in the crowd but tonight he had looked anywhere but you.  

A few straggling fans shouted excitedly and you looked passed the table to see that the guys and Julie had come out from backstage for meet and greets. As they spread out to talk to people, Reggie moved toward the merch stand, parking himself close enough to you that he could chat with you without drawing too much attention. You knew it was on purpose, that was usually Luke’s spot but tonight he stayed all the way down by the stage, almost reluctant to be out on the floor.  

“Hey, great job.” You mentioned, grabbing a water bottle from under the table and handing it to Reggie. He took it gratefully, taking a sip before setting it on the floor beside him and beginning to greet the group of fans that had hung back to say hello to him.  

When there was a spare minute between signing and taking pictures, he moved down the table, closer to you then before, leaning against a bare patch of wood where Flynn had already cleared away shirts. “Who was that guy you came with?” Reggie asked, looking back at you as you took one of the larger hoodies out of a box and pulled it on. Without the people, the venue had started to get cold.  

“My friend Mikey, it was his birthday and he’s been bugging me to hang out. He tagged along really and I didn’t wanna ditch him...” you replied, coming around the side of the table, “I didn’t really think it’d be an issue.”

“Oh, it's not with me. We need all the fans we can get right?” Reggie joked, “did he like our music?”

“Yeah, totally loved it.”  

The last of the concert goers finally made it to the door, waving to Reggie one last time as they walked passed the closed down merch stand. He waved back and you turned to watch them leave, back to the stage.  

“Hey, can we talk?” Luke’s voice came from behind you and you looked over your shoulder to him, standing there with his plaid jacket over a black band tee. His hair was pushed off his forehead from sweat and he was frowning already, not exactly the version of him you wanted to talk to. You couldn’t help that longing feeling for the Luke that would come off stage and wrap you in a sweaty hug guaranteed to piss of fans.  

“Uh yeah, of course...I need to talk to you too.” You replied, turning fully toward him as Reggie stood up, grabbing his water and heading back down toward the stage. Flynn came around the merch stand, following after him, leaving you and Luke alone.  

A beat passed between you and he ran his hand through his hair, trying and failing to fix the sweaty mess. Unable to stand the silence, you started talking, “you guys were awesome...as usual.”  

“Yeah, thanks.” He had asked to talk to you but he wasn’t really sure how to start the conversation he wanted to have and he couldn’t bring himself to really meet your eyes, his gaze flickering passed you every few seconds.  

“Would’ve been even better if you weren’t ignoring me all night,” you blurted.  

That seemed to be the push he needed to react, “yeah well, you brought some date with you? After the other night...” he trailed off for a moment, meeting your eyes finally, “I mean, that wasn’t nothing.”

-

Band practice had ended earlier than usual and, while you sat on the couch trying to win a particularly difficult level of candy crush on Luke’s phone, everybody else discussed a pizza run for dinner. You raised your hand to vote for extra cheese but didn’t look up when Julie left to go and Reggie and Alex walked out onto the driveway to play basketball. You didn’t look up until Luke dropped down on the couch next to you, putting his chin on your shoulder.

“How’s it going?” He asked, keeping his eyes on his phone screen as you turned your head, so close that your nose almost brushed his cheek.  

“Good?” You said, drawing the word out as you looked at him skeptically, “can I ask why you’re so close to me?”  

“So, you can bask in my awesomeness?” Luke teased, wrapping his arm around your waist.  

“I think the only thing I’m basking in is your post-rehearsal sweat.” You joked, shifting a little so that his chin fell off your shoulder and you were facing him. You set his phone down on the coffee table, giving your whole attention to Luke.  

He smiled at you, eyes searching yours. There was no denying that very specific look that Luke seemed to get, one you could never quite name but always recognized. He would smile, a soft sort of piercing look that you couldn’t look away from on his face. And you were always hypnotized by it, feeling like maybe you should distract yourself from it but never really wanting to.  

“What are we doing?” You chanced asking, meeting his gaze and holding it.

“What’da ya mean?” He asked, grin still on his face and you felt like he’d gotten closer but you didn’t move.

“You’re staring at me.”

“You’re staring at me.” He echoed.  

“Luke.” You wanted to roll your eyes but you also didn’t want to look away, even for a split second.  

He leaned closer, the joking air that had been dissipating completely gone now. You licked your lips, trying to keep yourself calm as Luke moved in. One second, he was looking at you and the next your eyes were closing, his lips pressed against yours and his grip on your waist tightening.  

The kiss didn’t last long. The doors to the garage creaked open and you both pulled away, looking anywhere but at each other as Julie walked in with pizza. Alex and Reggie came in behind her and Luke stood up, grabbing a stack of magazines off the coffee table and moving them out of the way. You picked up his phone, unlocking it and opening candy crush again to distract yourself.  

-

Neither of you had discussed the kiss, mostly because you were too afraid that if you brought it up he would tell you that it was just a mistake. Some spur of the moment thing that happened but that he didn’t really mean. You hadn’t even told Julie or Flynn about it.  

But now you were standing at the empty merch table with him and he was acting like you had purposely tried to hurt him. A ‘date’ he had called it and all at once you realized exactly what he thought had happened.  

“No, no,” you shook your head, “Mikey wasn’t a date.”  

“You didn’t say you were bringing Mikey with you to our show.” Luke replied, your best friend’s name rolling off his tongue like a curse.  

“He was bugging me about not hanging out recently and it’s his birthday so we were supposed to go out for dinner but I kept mentioning you…the band…and he wanted to come to the show.” You tried to explain.  

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” It was stupid to ask, technically you didn’t owe him any explanation at all. You could bring whoever you wanted but he couldn’t help feeling affronted by it.  

“I didn’t want you to think I was gonna ditch the show. And…I didn’t want you to think it was a date.” You replied. “The kiss wasn’t nothing and I should’ve talked to you about it sooner cause…I really like you and it felt really shitty to be ignored tonight.”  

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, I was just pissed when I saw you with some other guy.”

“Mikey’s just a friend.” You replied, “I like you Luke, I like when you pretend to play the guitar badly to make me laugh and I like when we hang out without everyone else and just do nothing or go to the beach and I like going out with you at midnight to get ice cream cause neither of us can sleep and I don’t want to date anyone else…I want you.”  

“I want you too.” Luke said, stepping closer to you. When he reached for your hands, you laced your fingers with his. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours again, the salty taste of sweat from playing a show still there on his mouth as you kissed him back.  

[lumifuer]

Unwind

Pairings: David 8  x Reader

Words: 814 Warnings: Cringey A/N’s: I actually can’t believe that I’m finally posting this. I was trying to get myself to get back to writing for so long and one day I randomly stumbled upon a story with the game of spin the bottle. I thought of it as a bit too much for my own stories, especially with David but then stalked @thefasstasticvoyage​ blog and found out that she actually prefered stories with him that weren’t based in space decided that maybe it should be more light-hearted instead. So here it is. 

Summary: Can a high school game help David discover the true nature of the sensation spreading across his non-human body?

"All I'm asking of you is to blend in, David. We need to ease them into your presence."

As usual, I decided to go with mister Weyland's wish without much of an unnecessary arguing. The mission was getting inevitably closer with each passing day, but the crew still seemed rather wary of me. As long as I was observing them from afar, everything was going smoothly. They were chatting, bonding over the most irrelevant things and experiences. And then, as soon as I'd stepped into the room, it fell silent. Their muscles would tense, their gaze would avert and focus on a random point or a thing. The knowing looks did not slip by me, even if I tried my best to pretend that they did. Soon after, the informal meetings would disband, leaving me behind without as much as one word.

There was only one exception to this practice. One person whose opinion was not dependant based on my humanity - or lack thereof. The young doctor with impressive expertise in the field would not let prejudice cloud her curiosity. She approached me after her crewmates left and greeted me with sincere kindness. Ever since this small event, she made sure to try and welcome me into their group. Naturally, it was met with small-minded jokes and remarks, but she did not seem to be bothered by them. And I truly appreciated all of her efforts.

One day, only mere weeks before the official date of the inauguration of our mission, the whole group decided to organize a meeting to decompress. Mainly with the use of alcoholic beverages. I knew it could have been one of my chances to earn their trust or, at the very least, tolerance, so I arrived in the lounge room with everyone else. The captain greeted me, possibly influenced by doctor (y/n) or even Weyland's wish, and the gathering started.

I tried to stay by (y/n)'s side, listening to their conversations and laughter, trying to create an image of the entire crew. The alcohol made it easier for them to behave naturally in my presence. Or maybe they simply decided to ignore me altogether. All I knew was that it must have affected their upcoming ideas.

"You're joking, Janek," (y/n)'s voice was both delighted and condescending. "How old are we again?"

"That's what I'm saying! We were supposed to unwind and forget about the importance of this whole thing, right?" he argued.

"By playing an edgy high school game? Thanks, cap," Holloway did not seem so sure about the genius of his captain's plans. He took another sip of his drink and shot a glance to his partner, doctor Elizabeth.

"This is insubordination, right (y/n)?" captain's eyes drifted to the side, pleading for the young woman to support him. But she was clearly uncomfortable, fiddling with a glass in her hand.

"I don't know -  I don't feel like playing spin the bottle--"

Janek threw his arms into the air with a frustrated look on his face. "What's up with you people! That's the crew I'm going to be stuck in space with?"

The last sentence earned him a chuckle from a few of the fellow members.

"If you allow me to interfere," I began and everyone looked at me, possibly suddenly recognizing my presence, "what is the purpose of this game?"

They glanced at each other with a mixture of confusion and amusement, but nobody seemed too eager to answer my question.

"Well, kids play this game to get a chance at kissing their high school crush," Holloway was visibly annoyed by my lack of knowledge. "Thought we were past that."

"Kissing?" I raised my brow at the new information. Something changed in the air. It became heavy and uncomfortable, almost forcing me to abandon the situation. A weird sensation flooded my chest area as if someone pressed a scorched metal to the inside of my body. I dropped my gaze to the floor, trying to come up with a solution to this newfound feeling.

Feeling. I was programmed to experience them in a way that humans do. It took my creators years to perfect my version of a nervous system. And now I was struggling with the meaning of it all. I knew they were still continuing the conversation, but the sound of their voices seemed distant and completely unimportant. I lost myself inside my own mind, trying to find an answer.

"David, are you alright?" (y/n)'s voice brought me back into the reality of the current situation. I slowly looked at her face and the sudden revelation fell upon me. The warmth that spread across my body stemmed from all of the kindness I have experienced so far thanks to her. Jealousy. Such a fragile and shallow emotion. Providing humans with the reason to argue, fight and destroy. And now, I was feeling it too.

Thank you so much for reading! ♥ As always, likes, reblogs but especially comments are welcome and truly appreciated!

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I’d like to dedicate this story to the kind and understanding @thefasstasticvoyage - a master in the craft of writing and an amzing human being! Thank you for the messages and support! 

[agustdef]

That Couple

Pairing: Yugyeom x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning: Mildly suggestive behavior. 

Rating: PG-13

My Lovely Beta: @hobeemin​

A/N: This is going to turn into a oneshot series. So... look out for that. LOL

“If you make me run through this again, we’re going to have a problem,” YN said right as Ariana Grande’s Positions began to play through the speakers.

The dancers behind her all nodded, but it was in the way they began dancing to the song that told her that they truly heard her. Every move was what it should have been with everyone’s own flair. They all moved where they should when they should and didn’t lose energy at any point as they performed. At a certain point, she stopped focusing on them and focused on herself as she danced with them.

Watching yourself through a mirror was a weird out of body experience, but over the years YN had gotten used to it and managed not to focus too much on her face as she watched. The mask that she wore also helped her out a great deal with the temptation that arose sometimes. Plus, she wanted to see if she herself was on par with what she expected from the others.

All that focus made the song pass quickly and then brought on the collapse of everyone, except her, onto the floor.

“And to think if you’d just done that six run throughs ago you’d already be off living your lives,” YN joked.

That earned some groans and curses from the girls, but they knew she was right. She’d only wanted about two hours to run through their performance for an upcoming concert and they’d done well until they got to Positions which was why she’d had them go over it more times than anything else. 

They probably hated her a little, but she wanted to ensure they were prepared. A K-Pop group’s first concert was one to remember for everyone and could change how people saw them if they gave great performances or phoned it in. And having worked with many groups that ended up disbanding or not reaching the heights they could always made YN work harder to ensure the next group or artist did as well as they could. 

And she thought that the girls she was working with were capable of greatness. Even as they crawled across the floor to grab their towels and water bottles.

YN smiled. “We’re done for the day, but I want y’all to do another run through before the day is over and twice tomorrow. Don’t repeat things, just go through the whole setlist to ensure that you have it. I know a lot of this is new choreography, so it takes a bit to sink in. But you’re doing really well.”

That seemed to give them a bit more energy and after a few more minutes of pulling it together, they packed up their things and left with promises to do as they were told. And with them and their managers gone it left YN on her own in the studio.

She didn’t mind it much and was happy to get some time to herself before she had other things to do. Especially since it had been so long since she’d had a moment to dance because she wanted to be silly for over a month. Work was a lot and she either created for someone else, taught, or danced in the background for something. By no means did she see that as a bad thing, because three years prior twenty-six-year-old Lisa struggled to keep consistent work, but it was all so tiring. By the end of most days, she ended up in bed or wanting to do anything but dance.

So, with her little window of time, she decided that was the time. YN redid the ponytail because she’d sweated and her hair got bigger, downed some water, and reapplied lotion to her elbows. The things were a darker brown than the rest of her from how often she hit them or did a move that had her pressing them into the floor. It was annoying, but not the end of the world.

Once ready she put her playlist on shuffle, turned the volume up, and got to it.

The first few songs were slower, which meant she had to adapt from all the more intense moves she’d done earlier. She was intentional and fluid with her moves, finding herself wrapped up in the music and truly just vibing. So, into it and watching herself that she ended up ripping off her mask and throwing it to the side, not even bothered by the sudden view of her full face.

However, despite the way those songs made her feel it wasn’t enough. YN needed more. She needed something that hit hard or something that allowed her to be a bit freer with what she was doing, so she stopped dancing and switched playlists to something that lacked the slower tempo songs. And the first song out of the gate rewarded her.

Ciara’s Goodies played and she danced the routine she’d learned as a kid for competitions. It was the first one she’d been allowed to choreograph herself and it had gotten her a high mark. Plus, it was just fun to fall back into something she knew so very well and thought was funny as hell.

From there it was more upbeat songs that she’d performed in the past or didn’t have a routine at all. It was just her moving however she wanted and she lived for it. 

About five songs into her second playlist the door to the room opened and she almost stopped until she noticed that it was just Monster Woo and his crew of dancers plus a few friends. She simply nodded at him and continued what she was doing. None of them interrupted her, in fact, they shouted greetings and cheered her on as she went.

Until Megan Thee Stallion’s Circles came on and then as if they’d practiced for that moment two of them - friends of hers - joined in to perform the dance they’d worked on the week the song had been dropped. It wasn’t something they taught or performed ever, just something that they did for fun.

YN was so into it and having so much fun that she didn’t notice more people enter the room, let alone who was amongst those people.

And she continued to not notice as the song ended because as each new one came on there was a different set of people joining her to dance along to them. Until Bruno Mar and Anderson .Paak’s Leave The Door Open came on and then they left her there. She hadn’t met with any of them to dance to it and though they seemed to move off to the side to do something they had they left her front and center.

The song had been her love for two weeks and though her first dance moves alongside it had been a slow dance with her boyfriend, they both came up with something for it together later so that’s what she went with but solo.

Sensual and smooth was what the song was, so she matched that and found an easy groove in it. She was so into it that she barely looked into the mirror and almost missed the approach of someone behind her. However, she saw a hat fly and her gaze met theirs in the mirror.

He saw her the moment she noticed him and smiled, something she returned despite her still dancing along. Not that he left her alone for long, just as the last line of the pre-chorus hit his arms were wrapped around her waist and he helped her spin to face him. 

Though YN felt a flutter in her stomach as she looked up at him and wanted to stay there for a while longer she didn’t. They moved into the next moves with ease and danced what they’d come up with in perfect harmony. Albeit while probably being a little too intimate with the moves.

Not that anyone complained.

“Get it Yugyeom!”

“Yes, YN! Yes.”

And other encouragements were yelled out as they danced and even after they finished. 

YN was used to them being like that when she did anything remotely sexy, especially when Monster Woo was in the area. The man enjoyed trying to make her blush and had succeeded a few times, though only usually when Yugyeom was present and dancing with her.

And that time was no different. The final position was similar to the move that Yugyeom had joined her with, but their faces were much closer. And since she could feel his breath on her face and could see the way he smiled at her she couldn’t help the way her cheeks burned. Though that kind of went out of the window once Yugyeom leaned down and kissed her lips. YN returned it with enthusiasm and only pulled away when she grew tired of the gagging noises.

After they were apart they moved to the side to let the others continue dancing to whatever played. Yugyeom laced their fingers together and didn’t let go even when they’d found a place to stand.

“I thought you would have been gone before we got here,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. Something got moved and so I don’t have anything until later and it’s just me recording the moves for another group plus a few errands.”

For a moment Yugyeom pouted, which was beyond cute, but it confused YN.

“What’s wrong?” 

“You left me alone in bed this morning. Didn’t even give me a kiss goodbye.”

The pouting intensified after that and YN laughed, throwing her head back a little. She’d been in a rush to get to work and he’d gotten to bed late so she’d let him sleep in. But she was being wrongly accused.

“Just because you weren’t awake for the kiss, does not mean the kiss didn’t happen. I gave your cute little lips multiple kisses before I left. You just didn’t wake up for any of them.”

That made him flustered, the pout vanishing as he fought down a smile and looked anywhere but at her. YN loved doing that to him, though she knew he would get his revenge on her later.

“That -” Yugyeom started only to be interrupted.

“So, you do have a thing for older women,” Jay Park said.

Just from hearing his voice, YN rolled her eyes, but then when she turned to face the little intruder she couldn’t help but do it again.

“It’s literally a two-year difference,” YN said.

Jay waved her off and focused on Yugyeom who’d gotten a little shyer about things when he was being confronted head on. It didn’t help that it was Jay and Loco who were staring him down.

“You could have just told us it was little YN, man. We know her. She’s cool people,” Loco said as he reached out to lightly poke YN’s cheek right where her dimple rested. A habit he’d gotten after he stopped gushing about how deep it was.

“I told you I was going to tell you at the end of the week. It’s not like I was keeping it a secret. We were just going to tell people outside of those who know at our own pace.”

“GOT7 knows? JYPE staff?” Jay asked.

Yugyeom nodded and that made Jay frown, but he didn’t say anything and before anyone could break the weird silence Blackpink’s Pretty Savage came on, and just like that YN was gone to dance again.

That left Yugyeom watching on again and YN threw him a wink every so often since they’d changed the choreography up quite a bit and that left for more sensual moves. 

[duskamethyst]

only mine.

a/n: my first bnha fic! im in love with the anime and i simp for so many characters aha

word count: 1.6k

genre: mature, implied nsfw (characters are aged up)

warnings: kidnapping, drugging, yandere behavior

pairing: yan!kaminari x gn!reader

summary: you and kaminari are fuck buddies. 

“man, can’t you just sleep over?” kaminari groans as he rolls onto his side, his elbow props himself up to watch you get off the bed to collect your clothes that were stripped and thrown onto the floor. 

“denki, no.” you say sternly while putting on your hoodie, missing the pouty look on the male’s face. 

“not even for one night?” he pleads. 

“nope!” you stick out your tongue teasingly before walking towards the door and turning the knob. “not ever.”

“sheesh, you’re such a hardass.” 

“call me whatever you want,” you roll your eyes as you step out and slowly close the door before peeking your head in again, “see ya.”

it has been months since you and kaminari been fucking on each other’s bed. it started with small talks before he (quickly-- after just a couple of times seeing each other)  began to openly flirt with you. kaminari was a fun a guy to be around with, kind of dumb and he looked like he meant no harm. you decided to entertain the fellow, shamelessly retaliate his flirtatious behavior (which was so much better than his game that it made him flustered often) until the both of you found yourselves together, bare and dripping with sweat in bed. 

you and kaminari formed a “pact” that it should remain as is, no strings attached and leaving the only label on it as fwb. being each others’ booty call is hell lot of fun, the sex is bomb and you don’t have to commit and have feelings for each other. you made it clear that this should remain a secret and that you both are free to fuck around with other people too but as much you’d like to believe that he understood it, kaminari never failed to constantly spam your phone with unnecessary texts about your well being, how your day went or asking if you wanted to go to shopping with him. it was a bit suffocating but if he was lucky enough, he’d get a short reply if not left on read.

you stick to your own belief that is to leave as soon as you’re done wrecking each other. no cuddles, no pillow talks or whatever those cheesy things couples normally do because the more time you spend together, there would be no doubt that one of you would start to catch feelings and it’s the last thing you want to have right now. the longest that you would stay at his place was only to take a quick shower after doing the deed, but not before having him almost begging to come in with you.

still, that doesn’t stop the male to often ask you to hang out and stay with him after a couple of hours together. you had to constantly remind him how this whole thing works but sometimes you could still see how he was burning holes behind other people who he thought was looking at you for too long or making you laugh too much and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was taking this differently from you. whenever you confronted him about it, he’d get extremely defensive about his behavior and said you were just imagining it or that he was joking. not wanting to argue any further, you’d often leave it at that.

hanging around with the guys is when his little antics gets worse. kirishima often invites the crew to his place to play video games and he always manages to find a way to lay a finger on you or openly flirts with you. he’d usually make sure that he is the one that gets to sit next to you or purposely hangs an arm protectively around your shoulders as he casually speaks to the others-- which earns the both of you some weird looks. kaminari notices it and he lives for it. it makes him even prouder to be able to claim you in some sort of way.

“been kinda wondering-- you guys are fucking each other or something?” sero suddenly questions while his eyes are glued to the screen in desperation of beating bakugou in the racing game.

“hell ye- OUCH!” you yank your elbow on kaminari’s side to cut him off.

“who the hell would?” you quickly reply, earning some laughs from the other males present. 

“then, you’re free after this?” he turns his head to wink at you, giving a small room of opportunity for bakugou to slip through sero’s car and eventually finish the whole two laps. 

the blonde male grunts and hits sero’s head with his controller, “fucking idiot! you didn’t even take this seriously! kirishima! you’re next!”

“well, someone’s bound to take care of that bump on your head now, huh?” you tease, and sero is one to quickly catch on to that as a wide grin spreads across his face. 

“dude, i owe you one!” he chuckles and lightly taps on bakugou’s shoulder. 

“i should’ve kicked you in the balls.” he grumbles, finger expertly pushing one of the joysticks as he chooses his preferred sports car for the next race.

the night goes on as usual, each of you taking turns on the racing game that bakugou insists on only playing for the rest of the night which none of you dared to say otherwise. everyone has their shares of laughs, you think-- missing the scowl on kaminari’s face whenever you choose to only spare him your half-assed attention while sero shows you his collection of memes on his phone. it’s probably mean of him to think how sero looks like a fucking simp that has to impress you in order to woo you for the night but he couldn’t care less. he knows you best-- knows how you do things your way and seeing you “subtly” being flirtatious right in front of his face angers him to no end. 

you’re acting like it, like a... what was it again? a whore? it has been at the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t dare to say it. he feels bad enough to even think about you that way and know that he shouldn’t since you both are in this stupid “relationship” that people use as an excuse just to hop from one dick or pussy to another because they’re too “afraid” of or don’t want any commitments or whatever. kaminari gets the idea, he’s not that dense but it’s unfair how he can’t bring himself to do things like you-- not when he’s already catching feelings this quick.

for the sake of not wanting to ruin the night nor the only thing that binds you to him, he chooses to keep his cool until you guys part ways. he doesn’t even realize how hard he’s clenching his fists when he finds out that you left with sero while he’s gone for a bathroom break. 

— come over tonight? ;-)

a week has passed since that night. you notice that kaminari haven’t been constantly flooding your inbox like he used to and it has been the least of your worries. in fact, you enjoyed it. you had your time being around other people more without having them to think that he’s a threat to them and he was less touchy than he used to be. you have no clue about the reason for his change in attitude and you couldn’t find the reason to ponder about it anyways.

he comes over as asked, an activity that is far from foreign for the both of you. kaminari happily shows you the bottle of booze from his bag as he enters your home-- neither of you has to say it, you both know that you’re going to have mindless, drunk sex tonight. 

“don’t worry, i’ll make sure to sleep on the couch.” he reassures, pouring the liquor into two glasses in your kitchen as you sit down lazily on the couch. 

“you better be,” you reply, going through the movies available on netflix from the tv screen. “you can choose what you wanna watch.”

kaminari walks over and offers you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you. he goes through the movies before choosing one, sipping on his drink and glancing towards you through the corner of his eyes once in a while. he can’t help but to suppress a smile through his glass when he catches you take a gulp and your face squirm at the bitter taste. 

“it’s so strong.” you mumble after a few more sips and a few minutes into the movie that you are trying to pay attention to. you believe that your alcohol tolerance isn’t that bad but the way those few sips are already making your head spin instead of the familiar high that should succumb your mind by now.

“for real? i think you’re just imagining it.” he replies coyly as his eyes bore through the screen.

“i’m not--” the spinning starts to become unbearable and your eyelids are getting heavy so you quickly lay your head down and close your eyes on the couch in an attempt to soothe it down before kaminari reaches to rub smooth circles on your head.

“shh, do you wanna puke?” his voice is too calm despite the situation. knowing him, he’d be absolutely frantic when things go wrong. you try to open your eyes, but the lights do nothing but cruelly inflict the pain even more. 

“no.. i just-- carry me to bed..?” you whine as you welcome the comfort he’s offering.

kaminari just watches you as you slowly drift into a deep slumber, your chest heaving up and down as you breathe. he calls your name a few times to test the waters before he finally lets out a sinister chuckle and hovers over your body to kiss your cheek.

“poor baby. don’t worry, i’ll bring you somewhere nicer.” he whispers as he gazes adoringly at your unlively state. so vulnerable. 

“then i can have you all to myself.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[miracleonice87]

Magic in the Hamptons

a Mat Barzal song fic

a/n: this one has been a long while coming. very loosely based on the song Magic in the Hamptons by Social House (woo, Pittsburgh!) feat. Lil Yachty. obviously I don’t own any of this music/lyrics. mostly based on Matt Martin and Sydney Esiason’s wedding, which totally doesn’t make sense timing-wise since I mention the TikTok dance to this song, but we’re rolling with it!

summary: Mat Barzal and his girlfriend travel to the Hamptons for the Esiason/Martin wedding, where their relationship takes a big step, too.

warnings: alcohol. swearing. brief mentions of sex. cheesy singing and dancing. cotton candy fluff.

______

The New York state wedding of the year had finally arrived.

Matt Martin and Sydney Esiason, Mat’s teammate and his fiancé — who were both your close friends — were tying the knot at last, and you, Mat, and the boys were Southampton-bound to ring in the occasion. Mat had rented out a house for a group of you — Jordan and Lauren, Anders and Grace, and Tito, who had chosen to fly solo in hopes of wheeling a single girl at the reception. Other Islanders, both current and former, were staying either in their own Hamptons summer homes or in places they, too, had rented for the weekend, all within a short distance of each other, so the next few days were about to be quite the affair.

You and Mat had flown in on a red eye from Vancouver, and you were grateful that you’d actually caught a few hours of shuteye on the plane, because Mat was now absolutely buzzing with excitement about seeing so many of his past and present teammates in the middle of the summer, not to mention celebrating Marty and Sydney, who had taken the two of you under their wing, affectionately calling you “Baby Matt and Baby Syd.”

On the way from the airport to the property, Mat had stopped at a market to stock up on the essentials — namely, cases of beer, bottles of wine, handles of liquor, and, of course, plenty of champagne. Mat heaved it all into the SUV, and minutes later, the two of you were pulling into the driveway of the sprawling Cape Cod-style abode where you would be staying, the first portion of the crew to arrive.

The two of you unpacked the car, Mat insisting on carrying the majority of the load, and staked your claim on the master suite, which was sure to be something Mat’s older, married captain chirped him about later in the weekend. The two of you walked through each room of the house, soaking in the summer cottage vibes, before making your way back to the kitchen to set up shop.

After Mat poured two flutes of champagne and proposed a toast to Marty and Syd, the two of you sipped the bubbly and discussed plans for the rest of the day, including Mat accompanying Marty to pick up the wedding bands from the jeweler in town. 

Soon, Mat found his way into the living room and spotted the stereo.

“Time to turn up, babe,” he announced, truly a frat boy at heart, pulling his phone from his pocket. When he finally finished fiddling with the Bluetooth sound system, Mat theatrically spun your way as you stocked the fridge with your enormous alcohol order. You smirked at him when you heard the first few beats of the song.

“C’mon,” Mat coaxed, nodding his head toward the open concept living room floor. “You gotta come dance with me to this song right now!”

You tipped your head back with a chuckle, shaking your head as you watched your clown of a boyfriend, who always made time to sing and dance because he loved the way you lit up when he did. As you left the grocery bags on the island and sauntered his way, he started to perform.

“Spot a little hottie when I flipped up the shades,” he began, giving you his best sexy eyes, making you snort and immediately cover your mouth with one hand. “Lookin' like a red ‘Rari sittin' in a driveway…” Mat continued, taking your hands and dancing around the room as you took turns feeding the lyrics to one another animatedly.

“Me and you should get a room right now,” you sang to him, pushing your chest up against his and watching his eyebrows quirk in that endearing way that made butterflies erupt within you. You toyed with his ever-present chain as you delivered the next lyric: “’Cause if it's gold, I'll throw it away, you're worth more than every single chain…”

With that, Mat spun you around, pulling you back into him and situating his lips right above your forehead as he said, “Best drink I take is when I sippin' you…”

Automatically, the two of you broke apart and launched into the TikTok dance for the chorus, mirroring each other as you tried to focus on each move without bursting into hysterics watching one other.

After you danced through the next verse, Mat pulled your back to his chest, hands gripping yours tightly as he said into a low voice into your ear, “…next trip I take is just me and you.” You turned your face toward him and smiled warmly, then both repeated the moves to the chorus that you’d learned together from the cool young kids on social media.

Mat tore up Lil Yachty’s rap verse as you danced in front of him, giggling.

“This is how I feel about you when I’m away…” Mat spoke before switching back to his rap persona, jokingly getting in your face, arms thrown behind him in a playful confrontation. “I'm tired of looking at your pictures, wanna be up in your face.”

You shook your head at his antics, laughing as he continued, spinning you around again and again with one hand like a ballerina. “I wanna dance with you, I wanna laugh, I wanna sing. Take you on the road, have you rockin' all my bling. Don't know if you're the one but if you are, you'll get a ring…”

Mat smirked at you as he said that particular word, throwing a flirtatious wink your way and causing your heart to flutter. You rolled your eyes and tried to play off how excited that statement coming from Mat’s lips made you, even if it was just a line in a goofy song.

Unbeknownst to you two, Tito had just stepped through the front door and lifted his sunglasses to rest atop his head when Mat delivered the final line with an amusing passion.

“And you look so classy, come through with that magic. You know that I'm ‘bout to smash it, it's true.” With that, Mat grabbed a generous handful of your asscheek and bit at your earlobe, your hands finding his face as you squealed, trying and failing to pry him away from you and stop his mischief.

“TMI,” you heard from the entryway, causing you to jump in Mat’s arms as he laughed at his friend’s statement, eyebrows high on his forehead. Tito walked over with a smirk, shaking his head, and Mat wrapped his arms around your waist tenderly.

“Oh, you two,” Tito teased, kissing your cheek and dapping up Mat as the three of you made your way to the kitchen for your second of what would prove to be many rounds of drinks that afternoon.

_____

Mat was content.

He sat beside you two days later in the breezy Southampton afternoon air, long arm wrapped easily around the back of your chair, fingers lightly caressing your shoulder as you listened to Matt and Sydney deliver their vows to one another. You’d been dabbing at the corners of your eyes with a handkerchief throughout the entire ceremony, Mat’s heart swelling at your evident love for Marty and Syd.

As you lifted the hankie once more to your face, Mat leaned in and delivered the most tender kiss to your temple, his eyes fluttering closed as he breathed in your scent and the pure sweetness of the moment. He felt you melt into his touch, your hand shifting from his thigh to grasp his hand tightly in your own, smoothing your thumb over his knuckles. That simplest of gestures intoxicated him, and despite the wedding going on before you, he couldn’t keep from telling you exactly what he was thinking.

“I love you,” he whispered into your ear, breath tickling your neck and sending goosebumps down your exposed arms. You hummed softly in appreciation, leaning further into his body, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Maty,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand.

As he looked down to your left hand, entwined with his as they lay in his lap, Mat smiled, thinking of the new addition that would soon adorn that one special finger.

And the best part?

You had no idea.

_____

You were feeling yourself.

It could be the alcohol, or the blue satin dress you donned that suited you so well, or the intense way Mat had been staring at you all night, or a combination of all three. You didn’t know for sure, but either way, you were feeling the best you had in a long time.

Which is why you didn’t hesitate to follow along when, as you stood next to Mat at the bar, his arm slung around your waist and hand resting teasingly just above your backside, Tito hustled up to you as London Bridge by Fergie began to flood the room and grabbed your hands, pulling you away from your boyfriend as he looked on with a pout.

“He,” Tito started, pointing at Mat, “can get you a drink. We,” he motioned between himself and you, “are gonna dance to this right now.”

You threw your head back in a laugh, tossing Mat a look that told him you were only slightly sorry, which quickly faded when you and Tito joined everyone on the dance floor. A crowd naturally circled around the two of you, a pair of the most fun-loving of the entire group, who often kept the others entertained at such events, along with Mat, who was currently enjoying just soaking it all in from afar.

Mat couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you mimicked Fergie’s drop-it-low moves from the now-vintage music video, watching how your hair — not to mention your perky butt and breasts — bounced each time you moved. What made him smile, though, wasn’t how gorgeous your body looked — it was the radiant glow on your face, in your eyes, as you goofed off with many of your closest friends. His closest friends. Though Mat loved you just as much on a rainy morning on the Island, wrapped in his sweats and makeup smeared across your face, these were the moments that made you shine the brightest, your love of life bubbling over onto everyone around you.

As Mat admired your magnetizing charm, Marty approached, playfully rubbing Mat’s shoulders like he was a prizefighter in a ring. Mat reached a hand up, which Marty firmly smacked and squeezed before settling his elbows back against the bar, watching his own love on the dance floor, only feet away from you as the two of you laughed together.

“She get suspicious at all the other day?” Marty inquired with a smirk, nodding gratefully at the bartender who knowingly poured another whisky for him and a fresh vodka cranberry for his bride, after setting down Mat’s beer and your rum ginger in front of him.

Mat couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “Surprisingly, no,” he answered, chuckling. “She really bought it when I told her that Syd asked me to go to the jeweler with you to make sure you got the right rings.”

Marty threw a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Wow!” he exclaimed. “Your girl really must have no faith in me. Syd thought it was hilarious, honestly. And she’s so excited she can barely take it.” Mat nodded. “So... when you gonna do it?” Marty asked, nudging an elbow into Mat’s abdomen.

Mat looked down to his shoes bashfully, a flush spreading from beneath the collar of his dress shirt up to his cheeks.

“Soon,” he said firmly. “I’ve already talked to her parents, and I know her sister can barely keep it together, ever since she helped me design the ring,” Mat added with a grin. “Think I wanna plan a little getaway for just the two of us here in the next couple weeks or so. Do it then.”

Marty backhanded Mat’s bicep and let out an excited “whoop!”

“That’s awesome, buddy,” he told Mat. “I didn’t know you were popping the question so soon!”

Mat turned his gaze to you once more as he and Marty made their way back to the dance floor, drinks for themselves and their favorite women in hand. He smiled at Marty before making his final comment on the topic for the evening.

“Would’ve asked her day one if I had the guts.” Marty nodded in understanding and sent a wink Mat’s way before kissing Sydney’s cheek and handing off her drink, Syd squealing her thanks.

Mat did the same, and you were in a fit of giggles as you hooked one arm around his neck and accepted the glass with your other hand, the last strains of the song fading into another. Suddenly, your brows shot up as you gasped dramatically.

“Hot shit!” you exclaimed along with Nelly over the speakers. Mat laughed loudly at you, kissing you before you turned around, grinding against him slightly — had he told you today that you were pure evil, he wondered — and began dancing to the tune.

And there, swaying along with you to Country Grammar, Mat knew that he had chosen the right girl to dance with, tonight and for the rest of his life.