#bro but with a lot more spice

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Spider-Man India, but... where from India?

A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.

I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.

If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.

So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.

The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:

THE RESULTS

South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?

Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.

Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"

Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South

Context: I want to make art of the boy again

At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.

Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.

But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:

Where did Spider-Man India come from?

FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA

As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.

But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.

We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!

I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.

So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.

BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?

Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.

It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.

Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.

This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.

So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.

BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL

I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.

I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.

I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it. 

You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.

AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA

He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!

“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?

“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.

Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:

Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?

... but why shouldn't i?

I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.

It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.

SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK

“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”

Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?

Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.

But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.

There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).

And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.

Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.

What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.

Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:

It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first three are written in Hindi. The fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Tamil there, much less any other South Indian language. Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?

Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!

I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.

It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.

It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!

Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!

And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer. 

So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.

We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.

THE POLL: REINTERPRETED

This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.

Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this. 

So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”

(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)

[screampied]

BAD ROMANCE! — ☆ SATOSUGU.

➤ popstar!gojo mlist.

headline. being sandwiched between a popstar and geto, his bassist best friend was almost like a fever dream. what happens when they start fighting over who can make you moan the highest note? sharing is caring…right?

word count. 5.8k (i am sorry)

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, bassist geto, geto has a tongue piercing, threesome, double penetration, manhandling, fucking while standing, size kink, unprotected sex, implied multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, gojo slander (lol)

an. makes sense if u read the first part !! if not that’s okaaay. sry for any errorssss aha

“seriously. join…the two of you?” geto mutters with a subtle eye twitch—you stared at the lead bassist, and he briefly returned a glance. his hands were buried in his pockets, wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans and a fitted white tank underneath. geto’s hair was a tad bit ruffled with a perfect length wolf cut. “you do realize your fans have been waiting for you for over an hour.”

“oh….right, i did have a concert,” gojo nervously chuckles, running a hand down his neck. “they heard everything too. nanami’s gonna kill me. that’s fun.”

geto’s eyes dart back towards you and suddenly you feel extremely nervous. you could never ever read him, he just a blank stare plastered amongst his face.

“i don’t think we’ve officially met. wish i didn’t have to meet you half-naked but,” and you were embarrassed, feeling the tips of your ears get feverish and abnormally hot. “i’m this idiot’s bassist. suguru ge—”

“bro she didn’t ask for your life story,” gojo groans, and you let off a gasp once he lifts you up, an arm underneath you and another bringing you towards his chest. “sugupoo, you didn’t answer my question.”

“sugupo—” he furrows his eyebrows, repeating the petname. geto grumbles, “…fine, but not here. we can…go back to my hotel or something.”

this was far more than anything you could have imagined. being between two idols. more so gojo but still. you were pretty much left with shredded clothing thanks to gojo barely even an hour ago…

“is she always this sensitive to touch?” geto utters, peeling your the remains of your clothes off — which was basically just a thin robe. he was tantalizingly slow with his hands, the very pads of his fingertips ghosting against your skin made you left off a soft gasp.

“pretty much,” gojo hums, and you watch as the popstar lowers his head to kiss near your thighs. “she’s a little camera shy.”

“what does that even-”

“…nevermind.”

geto was more tame while gojo was far more eager. you make brief eye contact with geto and he leans in toward you. you were expecting him to kiss you but instead, he brings a thumb towards your lip and smiles. “you’re a lot prettier in person, assistant. what are you doing messing around with this idiot?”

“um—”

“none of your business. besides, don’t talk to my work wife like that.” gojo pouts, and he makes you face him directly. 

obviously, he was being nothing but a pure tease. you feel yourself grow hot once gojo presses his lips onto yours. you could hear geto scoffing in the background.

you and gojo weren’t exactly a thing… although, maybe this “thing” was developing into some sort of fling. 

you moan into his mouth, feeling gojo’s hand trail down to part against your thigh before geto pries the two of you off, only to bring you into a much more steamy kiss. 

gojo’s jaw drops dramatically, a squeaky gasp leaving his lips as he watches you make out with geto.

geto was far more passionate and tender by a mile. with a soft thumb grazing beneath your chin, you let off a soft whine. tasting the sugary spiced alcohol on his tongue…..just a tang, but it was enough for you to covet more of him. more of his taste.

“this isn’t…. fair.” gojo nags, yet his body feels otherwise. seeing his bassist of a best friend kiss you deeply, touching all over your body. he started to feel himself get…aroused. 

you feel a cunning smirk go against geto’s lips. with a hand gripped softly underneath your chin, he continues to stroke it soothingly. 

he was so deliberate with his tongue, making sure to savour every inch of you. a groan leaves his mouth as he deepens the kiss for a brisk second. his breath was eminently lukewarm, and you don’t even recollect yourself pulling him closer to your already achey body. 

“suguru, you’re beinʼ stingy,” gojo frowns, starting to think if suggesting him to tag along was a good idea… perhaps not… after all, he was the satoru gojo. he’s never been a fan of share the spotlight.

geto swiftly pulls away and his eye contact against you makes you grow hot. his eyes spoke a thousand words, dirty dirty words though. gojo lets off a vexed sigh before running a hand through his hair. “…i have an idea though.”

“what?” you and geto both speak in low unison. 

the popstar has a cheeky grin on his lips before playfully rolling his eyes, tilting his head. “which can make her louder. then again, i already know i’m gonna win sooo…”

geto utters in the most sassiest tone imaginable, “please. you’d probably be the loudest out of all of us but fine.”

the thought of them both fighting over you, your client, and his best friend as well as his lead bassist.

you firmly clasped your thighs together before shyly drawing circles against the outer part of your arm. “well, he was pretty loud earlier. his fans heard him moaning all through his mic backstage and—”

“tch. shut up..” he grumbles, trying to forget that incident even happened. 

gojo now decides to pulls you into sweet passionate fulfilled kiss, and it’s deep with a bit of tongue.

you were indeed basically naked with the exception of a silk sage-colored robe he bought you as a new year’s eve gift. it hung down your body perfectly, just enough to make out your skin. 

geto makes you slip a whine into gojo’s mouth once he spreads your legs with one hand—you were drenched, soaked….no doubt about it. “no panties,” he mutters in a rough voice. “satoru must’ve beat me to it, hmpf.”

you started to pant the more gojo moved his tongue against yours, you could tell how needy he was. even though he already had a taste from you earlier, he wanted more. you were like some kind of candy, intoxicatingly sweetened. 

he smoothly slides his tongue against your bottom lip, grunting from the leftover taste of your flavored lip gloss that was by this point smeared across your lips. whenever gojo kissed you, you had this warm burning feeling inside. it was indescribable, you knew more than anyone how unprofessional this was…yet it felt good, his touch, his taste, even his rich scent. 

“what a mess. already drenched for me,” geto murmurs, and you peek an eye open to watch the bassist go down, between your legs. you sit up with gojo tilting your head to face him, thighs spread apart and you let off a moan once he starts to work his way. 

slowly, geto creates tender kisses… 

he creates a simple trail, all up your thighs. the softness of his lips pressing against your skin made you whine against gojo’s lips.

gojo moves your chin back to focus back towards him, and he gives your bottom lip an impish bite.

peppering the side parts of your mouth with numerous wet kisses. “mwah,” he’d coo, a teasing gesture yet the stare he gave you made you throb. “my fans heard us…heard you, y’know. how does that make you feel?”

you stare at gojo, and his eyebrows are slightly raised in curiosity. he was such a tease, wanting to know your response. 

geto’s tongue licks against the inner part of your thigh and you moan. that’s when you feel a slight coldness of his tongue piercing run against your skin — it tickles but in the best way imaginable. 

he starts to suck against your skin, a soft ‘pop’ skims past his lips and you whine before gojo squeezes your lips together. 

“heyyy, pretty. ‘m talking to you.” he whispers, leaning in to sneak another kiss on your mouth. 

“i— i liked it,” you utter, geto’s touch from underneath, a finger trailing against your skin with his tongue following shortly afterward made you pulse continuously. “knowing everyone heard me….your die-hard fans, it turned me on a little.”

“yeah? did it really?” he grins, showcasing a casual head tilt. “wow, you really are a kinky girl. but it turned me on too,” he adds, inching his face towards your neck to give it a soft suck. “hmph. next time i should probably fuck you on stage, wouldn’t that be a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his voice playfully lowering. “ooh, it’s probably all over the headlines, but eh, who gives a shit, right? not me, and definitely not her.”

you were just about to let off a mewl once gojo reached down to give your pussy a mean squeeze as soon as he referred to it as ‘her.’

he brings an additional kiss to you before you feel the warmth of geto’s breath fan against your entrance. you start to pant, feeling gojo’s hands roam and wander all against your body. 

an abrupt shock surges throughout your skin from his fingertips and the silk robe you wore. gojo traced a thumb against your nipple—your overly-sensitive nipple that poked through the thin pretty fabric. you were so aroused that your mind raced just as quickly as your heartbeat did. 

“fuck…dunno know what it is about you,” he murmurs, breaking away a few seconds to speak. there was a titillating bass that carried underneath gojo’s tone. 

you could hear it in his voice, how pitchy and low it would get at certain times. “just lookin’ at you gets me s-so hard,” and then he swallowed for a second, departing eye contact out of sheer flusteredness and it was cute. “still a bit…sensitive from earlier though. had the audacity to keep ridin’ me after i c-came.” 

“sorry.” you playfully press your lips together, glancing up at him and he grows embarrassed for a moment at remembering the pure thought. 

the image of him… the satoru gojo and you, his trusty assistant — being on top of the famous well-known pop star, riding him until he whined for just you and only you.

not to mention as well as having him as an entire mess underneath you. he probably was too stubborn to realize it but you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger…

to think that was just about nearly half an hour ago. your thoughts get interrupted from feeling geto’s tongue meekly lick against your inner folds. a sharp breath elicits from your throat as you look down at him already staring at you with a smug grin. 

“toru already got here too?” he whispers, ghosting a thumb against your sodden folds. his slender fingers were so long and lengthy, nails perfectly manicured, and of course, he’d have well-trimmed nails because of his status as a professional bassist.

all things considered, geto would just be godly with his fingers. it was no secret, really…

“of course i fuckin’ did.” gojo pouts, giving him a nettled glare. 

geto snickers. “aw. poor girl,” and then he makes eye contact with you, smugly simpering.

geto takes a second to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail before pursing his lips to speak. “he’s a good singer, yeahhh. but he has a huge lack of skill at eating pussy. trust me.”

“shut up, man..” gojo’s eyes widen, the tips of his ears burning, it was adorable. “that’s…not true.”

it was.

“suguruuu..” you whined, not even realize how much you were desperately aching for him. the two bickering was a constant thing, but you decided to ignore it and let the lust take over. 

“i’m sorry, i should be paying more attention to you,” he mutters, using a hand to shove your right thigh a few inches away.

geto promptly rolls out his tongue….slowly, pink and pretty. clean. your eyes peer at the pretty piercing that laid flat against the center part. “keep these legs spread for me. can you be a good girl ‘n do that?”

you unwittingly feel yourself pulse just from that action of him showing you a good view of his tongue. you give the bassist a pathetic eager nod, a hand running towards the roots of his hair to grip it before he grins. “good, ‘cause ‘m starved.”

“sugu, what… what am i supposed to do?” gojo huffs out. 

“figure it out yourself, popstar.” geto murmurs, and a soft pout twists against gojo’s lips. 

that’s when he makes you turn over to where you’re on your hands and knees—you face forward, most importantly, you face forward right against gojo’s crotch. face front and all.

he lingers near the edge of the bed, towering over you with a hungry gaze before letting off a whine. 

“jus’ look at me….i can’t perform like this,” not like he was going to perform anyway…but you stare at gojo’s body. all he wore was sweats, the original partially bedazzled outfit that was actually geto’s was practically torn. “you gave me this boner, ‘s your fault ‘m all needy.”

geto interrupts the erotic atmosphere with his tongue gradually flicking against your pussy, two rough hands spread the fat of your ass and you whine at how abruptly lewd it was. “oh my g-goddd.”

gojo feels like he has competition with geto, so he frowns—the pout remaining on his pink sheeny lips before he grips ahold of your chin to make you stare straight at him whilst you’re on all fours on the cushioned mattress. 

“been…been wantin’ to finally see what this pretty throat feels like,” 

he sighs, and he watches as you already start to lean into his touch. you’re on the palms of your hands, back slightly arched before you pull the hem of his boxers down with your teeth. “you’re such a little... you…you know what you’re doing..”

gojo lets off a soft grunt, gripping your hair, and as you inch your face closer toward him — a few specks of his neatly scattered brush against his face. you lick against the padded fabric of his boxers, curving your tongue against the print of his bulge and he swallows thickly. 

“you’re so fuckin’ nasty,” he huffs, bringing you all close to his briefs. you stare up at gojo, licking against the thin madematerial before cupping your mouth over his bulge…right near his base, in a much playful manner. “you’re—just asking to have a stuffed full mouth, huh?”

again, geto’s tongue rummaged all throughout your pussy while you absentmindly toying with gojo throws you off for a sudden concise moment. 

he was just as filthy, maybe even filthier. as you propped up—you whimpered, feeling how he ran his tongue all along your sweetened labia. 

your pussy pulsed against his movements, he starts to teasingly nibble on your clit before giving it a loooong suck. 

“mmph.” he’d grumble, and within minutes you could tell you had him entirely drunk. his tongue was just skimming around and against your clit that forevermore clenched. before you know it, you’re starting to intensely jounce and convulse because of the stimulation. 

his tongue laid flat against your pussy, the piercing that stuck against him, the slight coldness of it made you obliviously arch your back a bit more. toes of yours clenched in desire before your mouth opened at his technique.

geto was slow but sensual. 

his tongue… it spiraled against your pussy in a sweet motion to make you sob out a cry. 

“open that mouth,” gojo mutters, his hand still gripping your chin, and you do, parting your lips before watching him spring his dick out. it was throbbing, swollen, and not to mention quite pretty.

he wasn’t lying—you did leave him incredibly sensitive from earlier…

gojo lets off a breathless groan once he watches you kiss the tip of his cock head, which ends up turning into many kisses. his lip quivers the more time he spends staring at you. his breath becomes abnormally shaky, all because of you.

“…don’t tease me,” he whines before wrapping shuddery fingers around his fat length, giving it a few swift pumps before he starts to smear his pre-cum smothered tip all across your lips.

you give the popstar a cute, roguish glance before skimming the tip of your tongue against his frenulum. 

that spot…it was that spot that always gave gojo chills. he was trying too hard to keep up a tough front. he’s suppressing his moans before he watches you sink him down inch by inch. 

“mouth of yours ‘s just askin’ to be ruined,” he moans, and your eyes dart back up toward the popstar. his washboard abs tightened as he stood still, watching you lower your throat on him. you were a bit sloppy not to mention, strands of spit were already running down the side of your chin. “such a slutty assistant. unprofessional and—”

gojo shuts up the moment he feels your tongue stir leisurely against his tip, he’s halfway in before you gag. he reaches the roof of your mouth already, and you’re keeping him warm, all thanks to your throat.

“…damn girl,” he huffs, and as you’re breathing through your nose, he grabs a fistful of your hair.

with a tight pull, your eyes meet his abs again, and he was so fit. figures, he is an industrially well-trained dancer after all. gojo’s workout routine was no mystery. you throbbed a bit the more you stared at his body. 

as your eyes rove, you spotted a few lipstick stains smeared all against gojo’s skin, as well as a few sharpie marks. you figured it was from one of his obsessed die-hard fans.

it was just the way his perfectly sculptured chiseled v-line presented itself. the few specks of white hairs trailing down his area further and further to where it aligns toward his happy trail…

yet, the more you stared back at the dozens of now nearly faded marks of lipstick stains scattered all over his body—you don’t know why but you felt this peculiar feeling of…jealousy. 

was it jealousy?

geto continues to eat you out as you’re trapped in a dark bubble of your thoughts, and you whimper once you feel the soft padded tip of his nose slide all against your pussy. 

he was quite literally nose-deep, making you extra sensitive by adding a finger to rub against your soaked folds. 

his touch was fiery warm.

as you started to moderately make your lips firm. you slid your tongue out before gently rubbing it against the very underside part of his cock. gojo groans once more, face growing flustered as a hand remains at the top of your head. “such a filthy mouth,” he pants, hovering over you beside the bed.  

geto’s still eating you from behind, and he starts sucking again. passionately sucking on your throbbing neglected clit. he makes it his passion to give it all sorts of uninvited attention to feel you pulse and convulse into and against his mouth. 

gojo watches you start to vigorously shake and twitch from his best friend’s tongue, and he raises your chin up to look right at him.

mouth full and all, your tongue reaches the inner vein part of gojo’s lanky cock, he whines. 

“s-shit,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and that’s when he started to pivot his hips a bit. gojo thrusts into your mouth — and his moans were so pretty to listen to, he was a soprano after all.

the way his voice would effortlessly pitch all because of your tongue…he grabs your head, gently, yet with just enough pressure he makes you go back and forth, he’s stuffing your throat full of his girth, full of his inches.

you’re a mess, strings of saliva pouring down your chin and he looks down at you before nervously chuckling. “look at you. what, are you trying to say something?”

and he’s just at his limit, near the edge yet is such a brat. way too much for his own good. “don’t try to talk with y-your mouth full, princess.”

abruptly, you feel that familiar rush disrupt your thinking and you suddenly tense.

geto’s tongue slithers all against that spot, deep between your folds, and giving it a good nibble before your legs nearly give out right then and there. such whirlpools, a plethora of them came crashing down all at once before you moaned, the sensation was almost too much to bare. 

“give it to me, c’mon. i wanna hear you.” geto whispers, breath wafting against your clit. glossed pink lips of his was just drenched with your slit for it’s entirety.

he merrily blows against your pussy and that was just about the last straw for you—you end up cumming, and it had your eyebrows furrowing with such pleasure. 

“pft. took me longer to make her cum when i…” gojo gruffs, the same pout still pursed against his lips as he watched you riding your orgasm off against the bassist’s tongue. 

covetously, he watches as your eyelids start to droop and you’re growing quite dumb.

geto’s tongue….the length of it, the piercing, it tickled against your wet entrance as well as having you spasming and craving for more. 

gojo takes his dick out of your mouth hastily with a cute scowl on his lips whilst geto departs from behind you. 

he has a sly grin, bringing a thumb up to the corner of his mouth before swiping your slick clean. 

“jealous, ‘toru?”

“…no,” he grouches, and he definitely was. the popstar lifts you up suddenly, and your arms wrap around his neck, still panting from your recent jaw-dropping orgasmic release. “i can still do better than you, sugupoo.”

“i told you to stop calling me that.” geto chastised, standing up also. walking towards you, he ran a hand down your back and you moaned from his touch. 

you bury your face into gojo’s neck, your own warm breath going back against your face. the pop star’s half-cut-sparkled open glove traces down your back before he slyly smiles. beads of sweat races down his forehead before the singer hums. “suguru. do ya think we can fuck her like this?”

“standing up?” the bassist murmurs, and they’re both grazing their hands all over your body. while gojo has you lifted up, your legs tightly wrap and lock around his waist like a vice before geto kisses the back of your neck, pitching his voice lower as he speaks to you. “what do you think? can you handle the two of us, pretty girl?” 

you whine against gojo’s neck, trembling from geto’s touch behind you. how gentle he was, leaning in to suck against the tenderness part of your collarbone. “yeah,” you nod, and gojo glanced down at you with a smug grin forming on his lips. “j-just hurry up. satoru should have been performing like an hour ago.”

“damn, that’s true. i kinda forgot about that,” he timidly chortles, and he raises you up in his buff arms just a bit. “oh well. heh, i mean you…you can explain it to kento for me, yeah? i know he’s my manager but fuck, he scares me. if he’s nosy just tell him i’m uh…i got athlete's foot.”

there was a long rightfully so pause and geto’s hands remained gripped against your waist. “idiot…” he mumbles. 

the moment gojo aligns himself, you intake a sharp breath — mentally preparing yourself because you were about to take not only him, but his best friend also….while standing. 

“hold on to ‘toru. i’m gonna have to stretch you just a little…” geto purrs against your ear.

you made candid eye contact with gojo and he flashes a sheepish grin before planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. 

“i stretched her already.” gojo shrugs. 

“you did a lousy fuckin’ job then.” geto snarls, and you moan, feeling the thickness of geto go right into you with simplicity.

needless to say, it was sloppy. 

your cunt squelched in utter enthusiasm as he eases his way inside of you. gojo rolls his eyes at geto’s remark, and you’re quite literally being double stuffed. they both were slow and precise with their movements and you’re just in awe, dumbfounded, stupid…

you’ve never felt so full.

both of them deep inside of you, churning up your insides at the same time. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked like this.

not only were you being shared but doing everything while standing up—your arms pathetically wrapped around gojo’s neck, and it’s the perfect position to stare right into the pop star's eyes. 

he returns the gaze, and he grows flustered, lip quivering, ears twitching, eyebrows contorting. he was trying just as much as you to not be so loud, so vocal. yet a moan slips out, and gojo’s moans never fail to be so slutty. 

“think i can see why he’s so obsessed with you,” geto grunts, maintaining a firm grip against your hips. he’s taking you from behind with gojo occupied towards the front, each pretty glacé coated whimper that ran off past your lips grew shakier and shakier from the deep thrusts you were being given.

as you idly bounced against their dicks, you were again, stupid—brainless.

your mouth ends up partially opening as you’re moaning. your pussy gripped against each of them tightly. squeezing and clamping down against each of them to where you’re just so dizzy. 

geto’s thick and girth, meanwhile gojo’s long and lengthy…

your ears fet like they were about to pop from the sheer sudden humidity in the room the more you bobbed and jostled against them. biting your lip to conceal an incoming moan, your eyes briefly roll backward before you suddenly feel the plump mushroom-tip of gojo’s dick fully expand and reach there. 

“f-fuck, oh my g-godd,” you’d whine, rough sounds of your skin against theirs ricocheting amongst each other. such beefy bulky toned arms had you propped up in such an obscene way, you craved more. “…so deep.”

gojo leans in for a wet kiss and you kiss back, a plethora of whimpers and whines glissade right into his mouth - he swiftly swipes a tongue against yours, sloppy per usual before even he starts to moan. in such a way, you never failed to leave gojo all hot and bothered.

“you two are such sluts for each other, it’s cute..” 

as the bassist teases and pokes fun, you shudder, feeling geto press up against your ass… 

the stretch, the girth he had that made him thicker… it was mouthwateringly appetizing.

you found yourself practically drooling just from his dick, the way the curve of it hit that same repeated spots to make you grow dumber and dumber. you were starting to get so loopy from his best friend that you completely forgot gojo was in the picture for a quick second. 

geto being abutting against you, his body heat was entirely chambré—the fabric of his leather jacket, the cold frigid zippers skin against your skin and you lean back against his chest. despite all of this, gojo’s still managing to have you being fucked upright.  

your entrance was slick…damp, coated each of their cocks with your dampened arousal before your breathing starts to catch up with you. 

“s-shit, ‘m not gonna last.” gojo starts, and his body language changes a bit—you study his facial expressions, the way his lips contort into a perturbed pout. skin against skin, you radiated from their heat thoroughly before geto shakes his head with a sly scoff. 

“of course you’re not.” he snickers. 

“s-shut up, sugupoo,” he whines, hastily his head goes back. the popstar’s hair goes all over his face, long white strands occluding his view of vision and it's sexy. the way he’d become whiney out of nowhere, pressing his lips together in utter desperation. you had him a mess, whining again and again, regardless of trying to keep up a front. “she’s gonna milk me ‘n it’s all your fault..”

you throbbed from his words, and the popstar could barely keep his eyes open. he’s so sensitive, keeping you up with his arms while geto has you from the other end, geto sighs dramatically. “here he goes.”

“you both talk too much.” you mewl, clinging onto gojo’s neck. 

“no we don’t.” they both say in unison before giving each other a glare. 

geto scoffs whilst gojo pokes his lip out, focusing his attention back towards you. yet the minute gojo cums, his dick ends up slipping out of you and that’s when he becomes a stuttering mess. 

“s-shit,” he huffs, wrapping a hand around his base before repositioning it again. ropes of his cum start to seep out your cunt, geto watches and he’s speechless—you mewl, feeling geto run a thumb down your slit only to then smear gojo’s cum against your pussy. “so much to give you, even still.”

gojo starts whimpering. stretching such inches inside of you while geto pauses his movements. you felt warm, not to mention exceedingly full. 

you were stuffed, to the utmost limit…

the two took turns with you. you were treated like a rag doll if one was to be honest. it was as if stamina didn’t exist for them. positions after positions, there’d be a point where geto’s sucking against your nipples while gojo’s slamming his hips into you with the sweetest whimpers dragging out from his pretty glossed lips.

albeit, you don’t expect geto to get whiney…

but he does.

you’d be riding him, he’s laid back against the bed with his legs openly spread and clenched. a sharp jawline points forward as he faces you forward. “fuckk, your hips are so..” he’d groan, his head goes back in desireable pleasure and you lean in to bombard the inner part of his neck with sweet kisses.

gojo’s behind you, and he finds himself getting jealous and a tad bit clingy. you moan, feeling him lick a long stripe up your neck, wanting you to pay more attention to him and not his dumb best friend.

geto’s so attractive from this perspective..

you decide to be a tease, planting a kiss near the corner of his mouth—your lips meeting his revealing dimples. “gripping me s-so good,” he groans, bringing a sharp smack to your ass for ‘encouragement.’

he craved the way you grinded against him, not too fast, not too quick…just right. your hips slid from front to back, swiveling all around him to where a whine rips from his throat. “damnnn, just like that. f-fuck me, fuck megirl...”

his voice deopped a single octave, and he even brought a hand up to his face to shield his pure embarrassment.

gojo snickers before he speaks, peppering kisses against your collarbone before peering at his best friend. “awww, look at sugupoo. all that talk ‘n he’s just as whiny as i was.”

“shut up.. fuckin’ shut…up,” he groans, his nostrils flare and you lean in to kiss geto, he kisses back, and this time it’s sloppy and less passionate. it’s rougher. the instant second his lips meet yours, a low moan from geto slips out.

he pants heavily against you, breaking away for a second to breath — his hands were pinching your waist, brushing against your tender skin before he exhales out a sigh.

geto’s hair, tied into a near ponytail had a few strands poking out, scattered all against his face. he groans, feeling your clit rub against him slowly and gradually.

perfectly aligned and lined up right, he shudders once he feels your hand roam against his body, sliding a finger down a scar near the right side of his chest. 

gojo, still being sat behind you as he impatiently watched, reaches between your legs and starts to play with your pussy. you whined, feeling him start to maneuver tiny circles against your already sensitive folds before geto pulls away to breath yet again. 

a pretty sheeny web of spit coats against your chin and his as you depart from one another. your lips, and his jaw tightens. “f-fuckkk, fuck me. fuck me like that, don’t s-stop.”

he found the way you mounted him in such a good angle, it makes him ten times harder. geto’s thick cock slams in and out of you to where he’s almost tasting how swollen he was. you ploddingly thrust your hips forward before geto pulls you into his chest suddenly. 

“suguruuu.” you’d whinge, feeling him squeeze the fat of your ass.  

“fuckk,” he raps, you could be milking me all the time instead of this—this wannabe justin bieber.”

“hey…” gojo narrows his eyes, and he catches you giggling at geto’s remark. geto peeks an eye to stare at gojo before a smile goes against his lips, soley before turning his attention back towards you.

once geto’s body relaxes, he feels the pressure rising up within him to the point of his incoming release. the fiery sensations of electricity went all through. such fiery sensations piercing, he’s bouncing his thigh in an attempt to deepen his strokes inside you to make you whine yourself. 

“damn, ‘s good. s-so fuckin’ good,” he swallows, grunting once you lean in to kiss the front part of his adam’s apple. “gonna flood your pussy, you want that? want me to make a fuckin’ mess of myself?”

“y-yeah.” you breathe, nodding in contentment. “suguru please.”

geto’s vision becomes a little blurry, he’s hazy and it feels so good…your cunt’s got him on a leash.

he fell in love with the way your hips rolled against him again and again, each spank he gives your ass makes him throb. the girth he had lunging inside of you, outstretching to where it prods against your g-spot. “f-fuck.” you’d sob, slumping your head against the bassist. 

once he eventually came, it was way more than gojo. more as in you’re stuffed fuller than you thought you could ever be. you pause, huffing and puffing as your ear laid flat against his bare chest. geto aches, heavily panting himself and sweat droplets raced down his v-line. 

“i think i won,” gojo frowns, breaking the two of you up—you were practically limp, geto’s cum dripping out of you. you moaned, trying to recollect your breath but failing. 

geto leans back, giving gojo a side eye before murmuring. “just shut up..”

“aw. poor sugu’s all d—”

gojo’s voice gets rudely interrupted by the annoying screech of your ringtone. the two of them stare at the blue light, and gojo picks it up with a curious expression. 

“ooh, phone call,” and he picks it up, bringing it up to his face and raises a brow. “huh. why’s uh..” and he turns it the opposite way, “why’s fushiguro toji calling you? and heh what’s with the dumb heart by his name. isn’t he my old producer?”

geto grumbles, still silently heaving with a hand rubbing against his abdomen. “yeah, that scum who tried to take parts of our salary from that one gig we did,” and then geto darts his eyes towards you with an unreadable expression “why is he calling you?”

your stomach quite literally drops. you sat on the plump bed laid flat on your tummy. momentarily stunned for a moment. alas, you had to say something… you sat up, the phone continuing to sing in the distance before uttering. 

“toji…he’s um…he’s kind of my boyfriend.”

yeah, you were fucked. 

[evilminji]

You know what seriously doesn't get played with enough?

In the grand, shared, doll set of Danny Phantom?

The cultural alienation.

Is Danny up to date on Human Memes? Did he see that movie? Hear about that celebrity drama? He lives here, amongst us, WITH us. But? Feels... half out of the loop.

And? He can't SHARE his passions with us.

Is he REALLY gonna show his new lecture buddy that hot new Kryptonian Sci-fi series he picked up from the Zone's nearest mega market bookstore? Invite a neighbor over for some sparkling ectoplasm laced soda and a binge of this cool Alien animated film from a long dead planet's artist guild? They're trying new mediums, apparently! Danny thinks it's pretty cool, he hopes they make more.

Oh, but maybe he can talk about games!

Except he switched to the technologically far more advanced Z-Held, years ago. They have literally billions of billions of options, since every game maker in their region of the Zone designs for it. Has for millennia.

....music?

Ghost speak either creeps people out or actually hurts to hear, if they listen too long. And "normal" music... feels so FLAT. Emotionless. Yeah, he'll LISTEN... smile and agree it sound nice. But it's... it's so bland? Less then bland.

He can't even share his food! It's a one way trip to ER! If not the morgue. Half his spices are FROM the Zone now. And Zone plants? Heeeeeella poisonous to humans. Tasty af to HIM, but... yeah. No sharing.

So like... what does that LEAVE him? Dance? Hobbies? Sam n Tucker he can share his REAL interests with, but... they went to different colleges. And protecting people isn't a hobby. It's more of a Gotta, you know? He ALSO can't join any space related clubs because now he knows WAY too much about Space.

Like "above civilian clearance, no one on this planet should know that" a lot.

He gets distracted. Too excited. He KNOWS himself.

He would totally ramble on about Space.

He's a Fenton, man. It's genetic.

So... he's lonely. Adrift. A sad, sad, semi-feral noodle of a man. And you know who would never let that stand? Who also wants to know what THE FUCK he's listen too, because it's both giving him a headache and creeping him out? Kon.

This dude reminds him of Tim. Complete with the feral energy and fluffy hair. *snaps pick* lol, bro, is you. ANYWAY, this guy? Apparently the source of the Kent family splitting migraines. That sound has been KILLING them. They need to get this guy better headphones. Aliens gotta stick together, you know? Time to go make friends.

*floats over in his shades n leather jacket* Sup~!

[kithtaehyung]

broken, pt. 2 (3tan) (m) | myg

title: broken (pt. 2) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted | broken (pt. 1) rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: the championship game lights up... and everything goes down. note: not too much to say other than thank you. this part is definitely another very, very close one to my heart. please buckle up and enjoy the ride. warnings: [spice warnings under the cut] language, angst, tension, alcohol mention & consumption, fights, basketball!yoongi🧍‍♀️, cocky!yoongi, jimin😳, tense situations, did i say angst?, long hair yoongi, crying, bro😀, reader is a real one i don’t make the rules, arguments, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, saying softhours puts some of this lightly, bro🥲, blood/wound mentions, hurt/comfort, there’s just a lot in here y’all idek, taehyung being the best ever, …angst. drop date: february 9th, 2024, 10:37pm est word count: 17.7k my god

smut warnings: cursing, choking, light slapping, breast play, angry s*x a ha ha, crying, multiple explicit scenes y'all istg don't perceive me lol, c*nt slapping, penetrative s*x, brat!reader, protected s*x, edging, consent king ofc :), rough s*x, b*cksh*ts and a lot of them, ...unprotected s*x (yeah it's here and y'all better be responsible or so help me!!!), f*ngering, or*l (m/f rec), brat tamer!3tan yoongi!!!, reader loses themselves for a sec, but yoongi is a king, pain k*nk whewwww, kissing, so much kissing lmfao, c*m play, slight bond*ge (yoongi hands), spanking, aftercare ofc :'))

-

-

There’s no way.

How the fuck is he here? When did that horrible excuse of a guy even join a team? Had he been playing intramurals this whole time? 

“No fuckin’ way.”

Your eyes find your brother standing rigid at your side, wrists tensed to hell and shoulders spiked. Did he not know he was playing, either? Judging by his smoldering question, you’re going to guess he wasn’t aware. 

“Were they always on this team?” 

“No.”

“I don’t remember them being on any teams.”

They? Them? So they recognize more from the court on that day you try to not think about. Shifting your vision, you start gauge reactions under sounds of the growing crowd. 

It’s Yoongi that looks at you first, eyes lowering to the hand you still have on your arm damn it you should be okay about that night already. But you can’t seem to let your limb go, your fingers covering it in a weak attempt at protection and resilience. 

The blaze in his eyes makes you shake. Even as you swallow your pleas for everyone to just go home, he doesn’t look away. Instead, he walks over to stand in front of your knees, motioning for you to scoot over one so he can take the end seat.

Normally, you would slightly question why he wouldn’t just sit next to you. But this time, you’re hyper aware of what he’s doing—and why. It’s so obvious that you wanna reach out and grip his sweaty hand. 

Yoongi absolutely sat there to shield you.

And your heart burns and burns.

If only he could do more, be more, show more. Because with a rattled ego and tainted mind, you’re already yearning for his touch, wanting him to whisk you out of here and bring you back to the comfort of his home—just like he did that night. 

God, he makes you dizzy doing absolutely nothing. 

“What’s the plan,” he asks, eyes on the court and palms between his knees.

“Dunno yet.” Your brother shakes his head before looking back, eyes narrowing at the laughs on the other bench. “But I might get my ass thrown out if we—”

“Play.” 

Immediately, all three of them snap their heads your way. Fuck, your arm is still… 

One person cannot have this hold on you. There’s no way you’re going to let him control your every waking moment, and your determination bubbles into your commands. “Play the game and beat his ass,” you seethe, holding yourself together and aiming daggers everywhere. “Just make it quick.” 

Yoongi gives you a look before Jimin snags him with an eyebrow raise. 

“And you’re paying me double.” 

Looking at the man beside you, it’s almost comforting seeing his attention fully on your face. If it weren’t for your ghost on the other side of the scoring table and your brother standing there, you wouldn’t hesitate to kiss him. 

But you only nod, getting a huff and a lopsided curve in response before you watch him lock eyes with your brother, “What do you wanna do?” 

After a long, resigned sigh, your sibling finally relents, “Fuck this shit up.” 

Good. Yes. This is what you want—for you and them. “Exactly.” 

Scanning around the tight circle, you notice that you have everyone’s attention. 

But one person seems to send a question without any words at all. In kind, you answer the same way, wings battering your stomach when all of them send thunder to the court with lightning in their eyes.

Yoongi scoffs through a slant, carrying the air of someone you never want to mess with in your fucking life. “The fuckin’ nerve.” 

Jimin hums, sliding a finger along his flexed to hell jaw. “Bold,” he adds. And his voice drop sends shivers when he turns to you,

“Don’t worry, love.” 

You stare.

“This will be over soon.” 

-

-

The game is… just a game. For now.

No one’s taunted hard other than a few smirks and winks, and right now it seems as if both teams are just being competitive more than antagonistic. Which relaxes you to the point where you’re cheering from the bench with the other players—and their coach that arrived late—jumping and yelling and clapping when things go in their favor.

Your brother’s slamming down dunks. Jimin’s been playing amazing defense with his quick reflexes and high stamina.

And Yoongi? Has gotten sickeningly sharp. All those late nights at the rec center are paying off in this championship and, when he scores a hard shot, the pride you feel launches you to your feet. 

“Nice job, b—” Oh fuck you almost shout something that should never be public knowledge. Holding your tongue, you quickly switch it up with a hasty, “Let’s go!” 

That was close. Way too close. 

Get it together. 

But you cannot help it right now. Seeing Yoongi facing off against the man you both wanna square up against? And making it look easy? The fluttering you feel in your belly grows double. Triple. Tenfold. His gestures, the way he acts like it’s nothing, his shrugs at their failed attempts to stop him—everything’s making you scratch proverbial walls and kick bench chairs. 

And it’s not just him—the whole team has been playing excellently. Each play seems intentional; every pass and movement is strategic. If you didn’t know this was a casual rec game, you would think they’re gunning for a real, prestigious trophy. 

However. 

When it’s starting to be very clear who the better squad is, that’s when things start getting more than tense. 

On a foul call, both sides start getting in each others’ faces. And you peg that as normal until someone on your team gets shoved and your brother immediately gets between the action. 

Both you and the coach shoot up from your seats. 

Shit, shit, shit. If there’s one thing your older sibling’s gonna do in this game, it’ll be finding any excuse to deck that man in the face. And once that happens, there’s no telling how many injuries are gonna walk off polished floors.

Thankfully, everyone separates without a ruckus, and timeout is called on your side. The crowd starts to yell in favor of either team, and that’s when you notice that Taehyung has been joined by Shiv and your friends. From the looks of things, all five of them are laser focused on you. 

You hold a quick thumbs-up before you’re covered by hot and sweaty men huddling around the bench. And you immediately agree with their coach when he barks, 

“I need you all to calm down.” 

“No can do, coach.” 

“Not if they aren’t.” 

Shit. All of them look fucking livid, not giving any shits whatsoever if they’re willing to talk back to their leader. What’s really been happening on the court? Has it been even more tense than you perceived? 

Oblivious to the context behind this matchup, their coach keeps yelling, “Look, I don’t give a shit if you have something to settle. Play the game and leave it on the floor. Understood?” When there’s charged silence, he yells it even louder. 

And a smattering of agreement comes out before all of you hear an even bigger yelling session booming from the other bench. When you look over, it’s quickly noticeable that they’re getting reamed over there, too. 

Jimin watches before speaking, and it seems like your coach’s pleas fell on deaf ears, “Fifteen went for my legs.” 

“Saw that. Let’s switch cus he can’t guard me.” 

“K.” Park swivels his head to address someone else. “You good to keep playing?” 

Your brother responds with a nod, wiping his never-ending sweat. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Huh. Even though you know he’s mad, the man seems… Calm. Eerily calm. It’s reminding you of the way he acted after you came home from Yoongi’s. 

And you don’t like it one bit. 

But the timeout is over, and both teams eye each other on their walk back onto the court. As it continues, the gym erupts into life again, with a bit of back and forth shots racking the scoreboard up. 

And Yoongi keeps scoring. And scoring. And scoring. 

Which lands him in a bit of trouble when the same idiot from Dalo pushes him during a layup. After he manages to make the shot, Yoongi immediately flicks him off—which gets a whistle blown. Which also means he has to sit on the bench for a second because his coach is pissed. 

Ignoring the scathing remarks being thrown, he dumps himself next to you. And you immediately feel the heat roll off of him in waves, trying hard to focus on the game. “Don’t be stupid,” you jut out. 

“What?” 

“Don’t be stupid. These guys aren’t worth it.” 

“After what he did to you?” 

The way those words leave his mouth ice you over, flares spiraling through every fiber of your being. Your reaction is so visceral that you can barely get your response out, “Yeah, but…” 

Leaning on his knees, Yoongi wipes his forehead with a crinkled to hell jersey, excess sweat pinging onto his sneakers. The crowd is loud and the buzzers even louder, but they aren’t enough to drown out his bite,

“I can’t let that shit go.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Sorry, doll.” 

“Please just—” 

Yoongi leaves the bench before you can finish, and you whip your head in a rush, hands jutting out in a desperate attempt to hold him back. 

Only for him to be just out of reach. 

-

-

After halftime, it’s a whole different game. 

From an outside perspective, it’s as if everyone was using the first half to sniff each other out, circling around each other before deciding how and when to go in for the kill. 

And Yoongi isn’t the only one that you’re starting to worry about. Jimin, your brother, and even Rohan and the other guys are on edge, playing hard and doing everything they can to keep their scoring lead. 

Both you and their coach know you can’t stop whatever’s going on out there. And you’re starting to feel yourself getting angry at how your brother and them are egging the guys on. 

Why are they taunting? What the hell is making them so bent on making the other team pissed? Yes, all that went down with you, but nothing else had happened since then. And they clearly aren’t listening to anyone telling them to calm down.

If they end up starting shit you are going to—the fuck! 

Yoongi gets straight shoved again as he goes for a layup, and you shoot up in your chair as he hits the back wall with a thud. While the players at your side are yelling and everyone on the court starts grouping in shouts, you stay rigid, solely watching Yoongi eye his attacker—the same idiot from Dalo.

Fuck everything, you wanna rush into the fray and throw hands yourself because that looked painful.

The only thing that’s stopping you is the chilling fact that Yoongi is… Grinning. 

Wiping his curved lips, he waits while the refs break up the squabble, still looking triumphant as he walks to the line to shoot his free throws. When both of them are made, he stares directly at your assaulter—as you finally call it like it is—and doesn’t stop even when the coward looks away.

A whistle blows, and the game continues to be close. Too close, too close, too close. A couple more timeouts let you see just how laser-focused everyone is, and you’re a little shaken when it feels like they forgot you were even occupying their bench. 

What the hell is being said on the court? Even Jimin is brimming with anger. 

But after a few back and forths, Yoongi passes to your brother for a hard dunk, basket ringing from his throwdown and shaking when he lands. 

Thank god. Those points are enough. They’re gonna win. 

All the pent up anxiety you’ve harbored all game releases as everyone starts cheering, and your pride soars as your boys stare down their opponents while the clock winds down.

It’s over. The game is over, nothing too serious happened, and you can all go the fuck home to eat dinner and celebrate. 

Your eyes catch Yoongi throwing a rudely lopsided curve across the court. Even when Jimin comes up to push him back in excitement, his expression doesn’t change. 

And you find that wildly, unfathomably attractive. 

Then, as it goes, your brother comes up and they all share quick daps, eyes ablaze and not letting the losers out of their sight. 

Well. All of them are infamous for a reason. You would guess their energy altogether certainly contributes to that. Because the aura you feel oozing from them fills the gymnasium all the way up to your knees. 

And the sigh you let out mingles with their coach’s shake of his head.

-

-

Things are still tense as they all shake hands—or at least offer hands to shake—with the other team. The atmosphere is even a little iced when they receive their trophy. 

But the way you’re currently being surrounded as your guys converse hides you from plain sight, so you feel heavily protected. Even Jimin, who’s usually cheerful even when exhausted, wields sharp eyes as he keeps glancing over his shoulder. 

Honestly? You wouldn’t know what to do without them. Both your brother and all his friends, good pasts or not, are great people. They didn’t need to shield you like this. But they’re doing it anyway, because they won’t give that lowlife another reason or chance to approach you. 

Yeah. Your older sibling knows how to choose his circle.

It’s making you wonder if… 

Nah. 

That’s still too big a reach. 

When it seems like all of them and their cheering squad are gone, everyone starts making their way over to the bleachers—and you’re acutely reminded of what went down under similar looking ones the other night. 

Your shivers are overshadowed by Yuri’s telltale screams to Rohan, “You were so good, baby! Are you okay?”

Reia and Dom shake their heads before focusing on you, the latter being the spokeswoman, “So what was all that for?”

“Don’t ask,” you sigh, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. “I’m just glad they won and that we can go home.”

“You’re not coming to Yuri’s?” Reia asks. “I thought we planned on that, no?”

Ah, shit. Earlier this week, you did make plans with them without really thinking about what day they were gonna fall on. But now you’re so mentally drained that you kinda just wanna go—

“Is anyone else starving? I’m hungry as fuck!” 

Right. Food. Adrenaline made you forget you were starving. Glancing towards your brother, you quickly remind him, “Yeah, me. And you’re paying.”

“Ah, shit, that’s right.” As he lets out a hard groan and deals with Jimin and Yoongi’s comments, your sibling relents, “Alright, where are we going.”

“Up to you,” you shrug, stealing a little look at the man you want to kiss like hell for his performance tonight. 

God, Yoongi’s so handsome. As Jimin leaves his side, he silently wipes his forehead of any excess sweat, hands and shoulders shining in the lights wait wait wait. Hold on. 

Walking over, you toss any care about who notices you out the window. And as he eyes your approach, you murmur with care and concern, “Is your back okay?” 

Blinking once, twice, the man nods. “Yeah, it’s all good.”

“You sure? That looked…”

Of course he decides that now is the perfect time to rake his sweaty locks back. Speaking so low that only you can hear, Yoongi reassures with a fist full of hair, “I’m fine, doll.” 

Motherfucker. 

Pinning down your urge to reach out and smother him, you only breathe relief. And before you move away to put some distance between, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Yoongi looks your way again. “For what?” 

Swallowing what’s left of your anxiety, you sigh. “For not getting into it out there. I was about to get mad as hell, but.. Looks like they were all talk.” 

“Mm.”

Honestly? It’s a miracle. The game’s over without any hitches or brawls? More relief starts blossoming in your chest, prompting a smile to grace your features. “You looked so good out there, by the way. I almost called you ba—”

“What are y’all talking about over there!”

Your mouth snaps shut as soon as you see your brother watching, but Yoongi is quick to fire off an insult, “The way you always take so long to pick something.”

“I picked already!”

“Then let’s go then.”

Laughing, you join the whole crew as you’re all the last ones to walk out. Your friends and Shiv parked in another lot since one side was already full, so you tell them you’ll meet at the restaurant.

Some other teammates decide to join, with jerseys being shucked off as everyone heads out the door. Immediately, body odor swoops into your nose, making you welcome the crisp, fresh air of night. 

Scratch that. You smell oncoming rain. 

Conversations cease, which only leaves the sound confirming your observation: booming, rolling thunder. Stopping at the edge of the gym’s awning, multiple heads turn up at the rumbles, watching lightning crack the sky. 

In front of you, Jimin shifts his head to the side. “Still?” 

And when you look at who he’s asking, you see Yoongi nod. 

Weird. 

But it’s not raining just yet, so all of you make your way into the lot and to your cars. As you do, you check your phone while making your way over, aiming a question at Tae, “You know where we’re going?” 

“Yeah, it’s not far,” he responds, fishing out his own device. “I think we’ve been there before.” 

We? Looks like things are progressing nicely over there. Since you’re lingering behind the guys, you start to take a small jab, “We, huh? Cute.” 

Lips spread as tight as his eyes, Taehyung parries. “Cute? Look who’s talking, miss whipped.” 

“You’re whipped.” 

“No, you.” 

“No, you,” you giggle out, reaching out to tickle Tae’s side and laughing as he flinches away. You chase him for a few seconds before you see his whole body freeze completely, asking a small question before going quiet.  

And when you slowly follow his line of vision, your heart freefalls to your gut, smashing it so hard you feel bile sting the back of your throat. 

The man from Dalo. And all the guys from the court plus some. 

Surround both Jimin’s and your brother’s cars.

Fuck. Oh, fuck, there’s so many of them, standing and waiting and unflinching in the bursts of thunder inching closer and closer what the fuck are you gonna do— 

“Taehyung.”

Your eyes shake. 

“Get her out of here. Now.”

And you’ve never screamed so loud. 

Every word rips out of your mouth before you’re promptly shushed by large fingers, icicles pinging around your heart and holding it down, “Don’t fucking do thi—!” 

To your horror, Tae’s already hauling you back, voice low and firm in your ear, “Come on.” 

“No! What the fuck—” 

“We’re leaving.”

“Please—!”

There are so many of them. So, so many of them. Panic drowns out your words and excess leaks out of your eyes, your own storm preventing you from seeing that your best friend is just as torn apart. 

“Babe, we have to go now.” 

“No, let me go!” 

They’re outnumbered. What if they have weapons? What if the police are called? What if something happens that you aren’t prepared for?

You’re screaming. Curses, their names, or whatever whatever you don’t even know what the fuck you’re saying because your toes are kissing the edge of madness. 

Dragged a good distance away, your yells devolve into incoherency, your nose and eye sockets smashing into Taehyung’s solid forearm so hard it hurts. 

Make it out, make it out, make it out. For the love of everything in the fucking universe and beyond it, make it out alive. 

Some movements and backs straightening are the last things you see before getting pulled around the corner.

And when Yoongi calmly rolls one of his shoulders, you feel a wick of your soul burn out.

Panic. Worry. Panic and more panic. The car ride that Tae paid for is the blurriest muddy water you’ve ever waded through.

Truthfully, you don’t even remember blankets being pulled over your shoulder. Where even are you? Oh, you’re in a bed. Whose bed are you in because this isn’t yours. But what does it matter anyway what does anything matter anyway nothing matters there’s nothing you can do you gotta get up and go back over there get up get up go—

As soon as you yank his bedroom door open, Taehyung is there, holding you back and pushing your frantic energy back inside. “Tae, if you don’t let me—”

“Do what!”

“I’m going back!” Wrestling out of his strong hold, you bolt down his hallway, head clanging as your shoulder bumps into a wall. “We need to go back—”

“Stop!” You hear running as you burst through the living room, whizzing past the glowing television. “We have to stay here—”

No no no. There’s no way you’re staying here when you need to be back at that lot. Who the fuck would call for help if anyone needs it? When they’re gonna need it? Your vision proves so blurry you can’t even find your shoes—

Arms wrap around your waist and you fight back with a scream, “Let me go!”

“Stop and just think for a second—”

“Why aren’t you with me on this, they’re—”

“Dumb as fuck!” 

Your friend’s quick comment is so sharp it cuts your breath. As you still in his firm but comforting hold, you finally stop to breathe. Breathe, breathe, breathe as you’re turned to level a look with his eyes.

Eyes that are red-rimmed and so, so raw. “They’re idiots,” Taehyung grits out. “But they will be alright.” 

From the shake of his voice, you find that neither of you think that for sure. 

“I need to.. To…” Your breaths are ragged, energy spent and head dizzy from your quick exit from his bed. As you come down from your volcanic high, every weight the world places on your back proves too much. 

“You need to relax,” Tae advises, guiding you further back inside. And you don’t speak as he leads you past the couch, past the pictures on his hallway wall, and into the dark of his bedroom.

Maybe it’s over. Right? Maybe someone will answer if you ring them up. “Call. I need to call…” 

“Shh,” he soothes again, walking you backwards away from his door. When the bends of your knees hit his bed, Taehyung lets you down slowly until you’re sitting. “I’ll do it.” 

Brain fried from hyperactivity, you can only nod. 

Your friend steps away to fiddle with his phone, the light illuminating his beautiful features in the night. When he holds it to his ear, this is when you hear rain and the television in the living room, noticing that it’s playing a movie he watches for comfort. 

Shit. He’s going through it just like you are, and yet he’s still finding energy to calm your nerves? What have you even done to deserve him?

Guess you know how to choose your circle, too. 

Going unanswered, Taehyung lowers his hand, thumb rubbing the homescreen before gripping the device hard. 

Both of you are in the same boat. So steer when he can’t do it anymore. Soft but assertive, you rise to your feet, offering your embrace while calling his name, “..Tae.”

When he turns, the man wastes no time in dropping his phone to bring you in close. “It’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you hear his words on your head but feel the trembles in his chest. “Okay?”

Feeble fingers grab at his soft shirt, and you bury into his scent while soaked and tired eyes shut. 

You want to believe him. You do. You do. 

But hope may be a bitch. 

So you don’t. 

-

-

Forever passes while you both lie still in his bed, with Taehyung holding you close and keeping you subdued with notes of honey and wood. You both try to have conversation, but it’s disjointed and manufactured, so giving up is a group effort. 

You’re about to give up on a lot of things before you both jolt at Tae’s phone vibrating. 

The world shifts quick as you both sit up, the call immediately being accepted and a low greeting whooshing at your side, “Hey.”

With bated breath, you hear Jimin on the line. “Hey.” 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, we’re all alright, but…”

We. We, we, we, all of them thank the fucking world. As your breath is held, Taehyung’s voice is solid, “Say it.”

“My eye is pretty fucked. Yoongi’s face is cut up and he’s got some nasty bruises on his—” 

You don’t even remember yanking the phone to your mouth. “Where is he.”

Jimin audibly pauses on the line before having the audacity to chuckle. Irked and feeling ire bubble back to the surface, you seethe, “This isn’t funny, Park. Where the fuck is he?” 

“With us.” Us. Shit. “In the car.” 

Oh. 

“Your brother’s here, too.” 

“Ah.” That means they’re all there. They’re all heading home. “Am I on speaker.” 

“Umm.. Yeah.” 

As much as you’re relieved they’re all okay, stockpiled anxiety transforms into anger, your limit striking the thundering sky. “Actually, you know what? Good. Now I can say you’re all idiots and immature as fuck.” 

It’s your sibling that responds first. “Hey, wait a damn minute—” 

“I waited long enough!” you scream, ignoring Taehyung’s wide eyes. 

You know you need to relax. But you can’t help what’s happening right now and all you feel is pain. “I know this shit isn’t new to y’all, but really? You didn’t need to do this.” 

“He was gonna—”

“All you had to do was play the game! Why’d you have to make them mad? Do you even know what could’ve happened back there?” Damn it, you weren’t supposed to cry during this part, not when you just want them to know they fucked up. 

And the response is dead silence. Because of course it is. But if they won’t answer you here, they’re gonna answer another, “Just tell me one thing,” you plead. “Is this gonna happen again?” 

That one your brother answers with finality. “They won’t be coming around anymore.” 

Gulping, you give Taehyung a glossy-eyed look before staring at his lit screen again. Trying not to let your voice waver, you accept his response, “Okay… Are you okay?” 

“Me? Yeah, the hits I took were weak as fuck. I’ll get home soon so if you wanna order in tonight we can.” 

“Fuck that.” 

“Huh?” 

What an idiot. “Bro, you don’t even know how fucking mad I am,” you accuse through gritted teeth. There’s no way in hell you wanna deal with their bullshit. Ignoring your pleas and staring harm in the face? Forget it. “I’m going to Yuri’s.” 

“What? Nah, come home tonight and we’ll talk.” 

“I just—No.” Taehyung has to grip your shoulder before pulling you into a hug. And you’re still steel in his arms because you haven’t been this upset in ages. “I’m not talking to any of you for awhile.” 

And you mean that. 

“…Fine. But go asap then. I don’t want you out late on your own.” 

So you gotta listen to what he wants but when it comes to what you say, it’s crickets? Goddamn, you’re furious. “…Of course you don’t.”

And you hang up before anyone can say anything else. 

-

-

You open the front door to your brother leaning against the hallway wall.

Both of you eye each other, one of you with a perfectly fine face and the other that isn’t so lucky because he’s a fool.

And no words are exchanged as you trudge your frustration to the kitchen. 

-

-

Ice. Bandages. Dinner. Anger propels you through it all.

Whipping up a quick but hearty meal, you let your brother patch himself up after demanding he showered. The smells of comfort food waft through your nose as things sizzle on the stove and, through the whole process, you don’t think about anything except how upset you are.

They’re all okay. But like Taehyung so abruptly put it, they’re all stupid. 

As you turn off your burner, you transfer everything to a bowl, sighing so loud it seasons the top with fire. When you approach the bar, your actions speak pretty damn loud—the dish clank shoving out a question from your sibling,

“Is there something you wanna say to me?” 

“There’s a bunch of shit I wanna say to you.” 

“It’s about Yoongi,” he asks, the absence of hesitation making your insides squeeze. “Isn’t it.” 

But luckily for you, your rage is so potent that it overruns your fear. As soon as your brother stands up and starts to repeat his question, your correction clangs through the room, 

“It’s about all of you! You say you wanna be there for me but what the fuck will doing this shit do?” 

Freezing, the man waits in shock as you keep going, “Yes, that guy deserves hell. I was so scared when he grabbed me at the club.” You stop to swallow. “But I had them both there and we left.”

Fuck, this is hard. Having to relive that shit is difficult but you need your brother—and all of them, for that matter—to know how hurt you feel right now. Mustering up enough bravery to get to the goddamn point, you finally squeak out, 

“If I lose them? Lose you? Because of something as stupid as a fight?” Your eyes search his, and your heart cracks when you see glassy sheen amongst his bruises. “What would I do then?” 

You expect silence. And silence is what you get. It’s drawn out, loud, and telling. “We know.” 

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes lifting to meet yours with sincerity. “And we’re sorry.”

Another moment passes between the two of you, the food you made left uneaten on the counter and the rest sitting still on the stove. But you know your sibling will eat it all tonight, whether you’re there or not. 

And you step forward at the same time he holds his battered arms out. 

Freshly showered, he still smells like rain and exertion. But his heart beats under your chest, he’s present, and back home—things you need to stop taking for granted. 

But you’re still mad. And getting things off your chest has only made you tired, so you decide that it’s finally time to go before you circle back to other scary territory brought up tonight. “I’m leaving now,” you announce as you step away. “But just think about that.” 

“I will.”

“I’m serious.” 

“I will.”

Staring, you take note of his cuts and injuries, wondering how the others are faring even though you don’t wanna deal with anything else. Because it hurts too much, and if you see who you’re thinking about, there’s no telling what you’d do if you were like this with your brother. There’s no telling how you’d…

No. You choose to go the easy route this time. Everyone can simmer in their sore, swelling consequences while you have a night of de-stressing with your friends. 

So you leave to go pack without another word. 

It’s raining. 

Hard.

And even though your car is heading to Yuri’s, your heart is beating backwards. Tugging you somewhere else and not letting up. 

With a ping of chill, you can’t shake it. Braking at a stop sign close to your destination, you sit in silence, letting the rain pelt every side of your vehicle and wondering what the hell to do. 

Truthfully? Your brother looked like shit. But your body isn’t telling you to go back to the house, which can only mean one other place. And you know for a fact you don’t wanna talk to him, either. 

So fucking upsetting. They did all that for what? You can barely keep your thoughts in a row because they keep yelling at jostling each other just like everybody did on the court. If anyone had to fight the dipshit, it should've been you. 

Fuck! Your head connects with the wheel, an inner monster rumbling with the thunder because you’re so fed up with everything that happened. 

Your brain is the one yelling. But your heart is begging for it to listen. Go to Yuri’s? Go to Yoongi’s. Find shelter in that warm bed of hers and sink in her plushies to comfort you? 

A sigh. Maybe you can at least call him to tell him off one more time. He needs to hear what you told your brother because if you ever, ever lose him—

Your eyes burn. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

No answer.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

Pick up. What the fuck.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

…Turn the fuck around shit, shit, shit.

Curses flying, you whip your vehicle in a flash, heart pounding so loud it’s blocking out the storm. Which is morbidly impressive considering how horridly it’s pouring. 

Thinking in leaps, you pivot and make another decision. Tell her and make it all quick. 

Yuri: Outgoing Call

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m not coming.”

“You okay?”

“I’m going to Yoongi’s.”

“Yoongi’s? Why?”

Ah, shit. Oh, fuck. She doesn’t know. 

Banging the steering wheel, you smash your teeth, stressed as hell from braving the rain in the dark and now snitching on yourself to someone else. 

Damn it. What do you say? What can you possibly even say when you’re so mad and stressed and conflicted and worried—

“Hello?”

“Because he’s the one,” you whoosh out, your vision quivering twice as much as it should. “And things went down after the game and now something feels wrong.”

“Oh, shit. Is that why y’all didn’t come to—”

“Yes.” When you say all this out loud, now it has weight. Horrifying weight on your chest and a block pushing down on the gas. You hear a bit of shuffling on the line, and you’re starting to get so anxious that you blurt, “Please don’t say anything. Please.”

“I won’t. Not about this.”

“Thank you.”

“Hang up, babe. Make it safe.”

“Okay.”

Go, go, go. Please, just get there. 

Letting up, you change your speed, hoping to everything good in the world that this feeling you have is only a feeling and nothing more. 

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

What a strange emotion, wanting his reason for not picking up solely being because he doesn’t wanna talk to you. That is an answer you can deal with. 

But you still can’t fight off the jagged pulses telling you it’s something else. 

After an agonizing drive, you finally see his complex, tensing harder the further and further away you have to park. 

Whipping into a spot, you screech into it before hauling your bag out, popping the trunk and desperately grabbing a plastic box you always keep inside. 

And the mad dash drenches you long before you seek cover, your bones shivering shivering shivering from the chill.

Yoongi has to be home. His car is here. 

But he still won’t pick up the fucking phone.

Skidding at his door, your knocks are rapid, knuckles singed from the ice cold wraps.

Answer, answer, answer. For fuck’s sake, he better answer. 

After a haunting moment of silence, you decide to call one more time, head wet and bones shivering as you press the phone to your damp ear. 

Finally. “Hello.” 

“Open the door,” you jump into commanding, hearing nothing other than a voice that sounds so crushed and low that it crumples you inside. 

“You’re here?” 

“Yeah, let me in.” Fuck, your teeth are clattering against each other, whether it’s from the rain, the cold, or anger, you can’t tell. 

But the reply you get is the coldest thing imaginable. And it sets your whole body aflame. 

“Not tonight.”

Hell no. Hell fucking no Yoongi is not going to get rid of you that easily. Not when you have a boatload of things to say and only one dock to dump them all on, “Yoongi, I swear to god—” 

“Not tonight—”

“—you don’t let me in I’m—”

“Go home—”

“I’m fucking staying out here until you open the goddamn door!”

Oh, you’re pissed. You’re so fucking pissed because this all could’ve been avoided if none of them were stupid. Or prideful. Or whatever the fuck boys decide to be when they can’t let something go. 

And this man still has the audacity to give you the stiff arm, silence on the line before he rasps out another short, “I’m serious.”

“No.”

“Go home.” 

“No!” 

He says your name. So, so softly, before a gut-wrenching, 

“Please.”

Breath shaken, you rest your forehead against chilly wood, hoping it quells the fire you feel rising from your rib cage. 

You can’t give up. Not when you have so much to say. Not when you have to check on him and make sure he’s fine. 

Not when you give into the strongest premonition that you need to be nowhere else but with him tonight. 

You will stay. Stay, stay, stay. Even if he doesn’t want to see you. 

Voice trembling in rage and concern and everything in between, you feel your eyes sear through when they close, mission boiling down to one more desperate choice, 

“…No.” 

You’re cold. And wet. But you will stand out here for as long as it takes him to let you inside—a night, a day, no matter what.

And for a moment. Or a few. You think he’s dead set on making you prove that. 

But you finally, finally, finally hear a sigh before a lock turn, and you try to prepare yourself for what you see but he opens the door and his face comes into view holy shit he looks like a wreck—

“What the fuck,” you grit out as you rush in with vision swimming, digging into your bag for the medkit you hastily stashed and swinging off your sandals because you gotta get something in the—

A hand grips you hard, tugging you back before you even register what’s happening.

As your feet stumble back onto linoleum, your gaze snaps to the ground. 

And your breath cuts like it’s your last. 

Shards. 

Pieces.

Thousands of wood and glass chips litter the entire open area of the living room. 

And realizing where they came from strikes like lightning. 

Fuck. Oh, fuck, what did Yoongi do?

“I told you, doll.”

You choke on a sob.

“Go home.”

Your breaths return before you straighten, tears flowing freely as you don’t know whether to start cleaning up the chaos or finally facing the one who caused it.

No, no, no. Get rid of it. 

Throw it out, all of it, all of it. 

A new fire roars to life, forging your steeling commitment as you wrestle out of Yoongi’s hold.

What did he do, what did he do?

Revving with smoke out of your ears, you burn a path to the kitchen, grabbing a trash bag before marching into the wreckage. Up go the biggest pieces first, chucked into plastic before the smaller ones follow.

Throw it all. This one, this one, and this one.

Yoongi isn’t even wearing shoes. He can cut himself up even more if this all stays where it is. 

Shit, this is everywhere. 

When you realize you’re gonna need a broom, you storm back into his laundry closet to yank one out and keep going. When you go to sweep, the sharpest voice cuts through your fingers.

“Stop.”

Your grit grips the tool even tighter. Because you won’t. Don’t dare look into his expression, either, because you know that one glance will melt every scream on your tongue. So you stay resolute and shoot rejection to the ground, “No.”

“Just go, please.”

“No.”

This hurts. 

This really, really hurts. 

Yoongi has never, ever said these things to you and it feels like a knife jabbing into the same spot over, and over again. You almost prefer three new months of no contact over whatever the hell this is.

But you have to keep going. Eyes clenching, lips wobbling, you must keep going. 

Because you came here for a reason other than this mess. And he’s gonna have to do better than this to kick you back out into the rain. 

“I got it.” 

“Let me do it.” 

“Your brother needs you.”

“Yeah, well, I already tore the fuck into him and I’m gonna do the same to you.” You harden your fist on the sweeper, tugging it more towards your shoulder with finality. And you gather all the energy you need to leave no more room for arguments, because Yoongi is going to listen, “So sit down.”

It hurts.

He wants to say shit. You know he wants to.

But he only breathes hard with eyes closed, following your orders and carrying his dark clouds to the dining room. 

When he finally leaves you alone, this is when you look his way. 

In sweats and a shirt, he appears fine. But with a deep pang, you notice he’s slightly limping. Judging from those knuckles, you wonder if they’re red from the fight or from hitting another wall of his apartment. 

Or from whatever the fuck happened around your feet.

Shit.

While he dumps himself at his table, you clean up the pieces of his rampage, mentally noting that one plan of yours has now changed. 

This one. These, too. A string here. A metal piece there.

You don’t know how long it takes you. All you know is that you’re burning inside, determined to clean everything and sweep this chaotic energy away. 

One more. Two more. Another one here.

As soon as you’re done, you lug the trash bag out of the front door and don’t give a shit what happens to it now.

Keep going. There’s more that you need to take care of.

The fuel inside of you rages on, anger conflicting with anxiety and past worries and sadness for something that didn’t even happen. As you spin, you vow yourself to keep pushing until you can’t anymore. 

Sniffling. Shivering. But staying strong because things could’ve gone a lot worse. 

Yoongi meets you by the table, messy, damp hair shielding his features. “You’ve done enough.” 

“I still need to—” 

“Just.” He looks away. “Go home, doll. I can’t do this tonight.” 

“Do what? I’m helping you.” 

That’s what you do for each other, right? You both help each other. But now you’re not so sure because Yoongi comes back with not an acknowledgement, nor a way of relenting. 

But ice. 

“Who said I needed it?” 

And in all the time you’ve spent with this man, this is the first time you’ve felt downright cold. “Yoongi, what?” Your eyes travel across his face, chest caving in when there’s barely any hints of vitality. “Are you serious?” 

“You think I’m joking?” 

“You’re kicking me out? What happened to saying you’d never do that, huh?” 

“I say a lot of things.” 

…Oh.

That hurt. That… That physically couldn’t have hurt any harder. 

Nodding, you look away, shaking your head in disbelief because you are on the verge of losing it. “You know what? You do say a lot of things.”

Walking away, you start rearranging pillows on the couch pushed askew. “Like how perfect I am.” Picking up his books from the now non-existent coffee table. “And how there’s no one else.” 

As you give the volumes a new home on his intact tv stand, you turn to face him again. “Those are just words, too, huh?” 

Yoongi kicks his head back with a smile, one that cuts instead of mends. “Nah… Not tonight.” 

“Not tonight what.” 

“We aren’t doing this tonight.” 

“The fuck we aren’t.” It’s his turn to walk away, with a slow head shake that you really don’t like. “Where are you going?” 

“Nowhere.” Yoongi shifts his head to the side, but not enough for you to fully see him. It’s almost as if he doesn’t want you to. “But you’re going home.” 

Something’s off. There’s something completely off but all you feel is sadness and rejection in your ribcage. “So this is how it happens, huh. Now I’m just like everyone else.” 

He finally faces you, miles away even though you’re just rooms apart. “You’re gonna go there?” 

“I am.” 

“Wow.” 

That’s what he comes back with? This is gutting you from the inside out and you have no idea what’s happening but now rage is flaring into your mouth, “You think I wanted to come here? After what all of you did?” 

“Do you even know?” 

“No! But how the fuck would I? You don’t tell me shit!” 

“That’s cus—” 

Your response sears over his floors, “I can take care of myself. But none of you told me about that dude from the court. None of you.” Breath shaken, you continue dumping out all your thoughts and previous concerns, “If I had known? That whole Dalo thing could’ve been avoided and I would’ve ran.” 

For a person that you’ve come to know as so warm, Yoongi’s entire aura freezes you over as you keep talking. “And today? You know how fucking scared I was? If I… I…” 

All he does is stare. Why isn’t he doing anything else? Is he really flipping the switch and choosing to legitimately let you leave this time?

Fine then. 

“You know what?” Giving up, you laugh—harsh, and breathy, and without any joy at all. “Forget it. You’re not even listening anyway.”

“I swear to—I just said not tonight.” 

Frustration from the game, fear from the ambush after, anxiety from not hearing from them. All of it coalesces into something you can’t even control anymore. Your buffer shuts off, the monster you created seizing the reins, “No, I get it. I do! You want me gone. Sure. See you in three more months.” 

Stunned, Yoongi huffs in disbelief, jaw working overtime. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I am. Trying to help you but it looks like you don’t even want that. So good fucking bye.” 

And it looks like he has a beast of his own because his next response to your last attempt has you reeling back in shock, 

“Who asked you?” 

Dark liquid drips onto your soul. 

You can only stare, unblinking and feeling like you’re in an entirely different universe. “Who asked me? Who asked me.” 

“That’s what I said.” 

Forget the question of who asked you because… Who are you even talking to? Who is this person standing in front of you because it’s not the Yoongi you know. It’s so jarring and hurtful and strange that you truly feel thrust into the middle of a nightmare. 

You’re gonna do it. You’re actually gonna leave this time. 

“You know what? Kiss my ass, Yoongi.” 

God, it hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

It hurts.

You don’t even know where this is all coming from. All you know is that you’re angry and there’s no stopping the hot magma bubbling in your center. 

Silence fills the room.

And it rains. It pours.

But finally, you hold a sob back before burning a shaky path to his door, wrestling with the lock before yanking it open—

Only to have it shut back in your face, so thrown when you realize you’re getting spun. Air whooshes out of you before your shoulder blades connect with wood—  

And this is the goddamn breaking point. The walls you haphazardly built to keep you upright collapse and tumble. It’s so potent and blinding that you don’t even realize your hands are connecting with his chest in the weakest, saddest ways and you are outright screaming. 

“God, what the fuck! I told you to—We didn’t hear from you for hours and I—I didn’t know if you were okay—” 

“Whoa, hold u—” 

“I thought the worst and I—didn’t even get a chance to—I finally told you want I wanted and you—Fuck—” 

“Just listen—” 

“Don’t ever do that again! I don’t wanna lose you and today was so fucking scary and I’m not, fucking, leaving—” 

Your lips are smashed to hell, his lips bruising so hard you feel it in the back of your skull. And it’s a whole storm as Yoongi pins you against the door, leg wedging between yours and his hands gripping you like a vice. It’s intense. It’s overwhelming. 

“I swear to—” 

You don’t know what to do. What to do what to do what to do, and all your madness jangles as you’re yanked and slammed against another wall, breath leaping into his open mouth before you tug at his hair, digging anger through his shoulders. 

“Can’t fucking listen, can you?” 

“No,” you rip from your throat, shoving him back only to gravitate right back and lock lips again. 

And he rips at your clothes, tearing the front of your shirt so far your chest emerges on full display. Before you can even react to the cuts on his face, Yoongi’s hand clenches around your throat, making you gargle just how you fucking want to right now. 

“Shouldn’t even fucking be here.” 

“When has that ever stopped us.” You groan as you get rapidly led back into something hard, and you realize it’s the dining table digging into your ass. 

“He’s still home.” 

“So?”

“Shouldn’t you—”

“Then kick me out!” you taunt. “For real. Let me go. Fucking do it then.” 

Yoongi works his jaw before gripping tighter, making you groan and your gut flare into something primal. Nostrils flaring, he moves to grip your head hard enough to make your stomach flip but not firm enough to scare you. 

Never to scare you. “You aren’t gonna leave me alone.” 

Your eyes are ice. 

“Are you.” 

You solely watch in determination, breath harsh from your nose and billowing out like steam. Drilling your answer into his eyes, you charge the surrounding air enough to spark like the flashing sky outside. 

And Yoongi cracks like lightning. 

“Goddamn it.” 

Everything happens at once and in quick succession. Teeth grit to hell, Yoongi pulls you upward before fast stepping you to his bedroom, slamming you through the door before you shove him right into his desk. 

Things teeter and shake and clang with each impact, your storm disrupting everything in its path and creating a tornado of desire and thoughts in your brain. 

Something swirls and twists between your souls, tightening and condensing into emotions darker than midnight. And as angry as you are, it’s slipping into a dangerous mania, and you’ve never been this excited for anything in your life. 

“Stubborn.” 

“Coward.” 

Your back stings as you’re pushed back into his door, the wood smacking into the spackle of his wall. Rough lips smother yours as you claw at his shoulders, neck, hair, and you hear him growl into your mouth, 

“Want me to kiss your ass? Suck my dick then we’ll talk.” 

“Fuck you. I give better head than you anyway.” 

His words rival the deepest growl, “Prove it.” 

“Make me.”

Whirlwind. Storm. Tempest. At this point, it’s a whole goddamn high. Your body is thrumming and the only way to feed your anger is to channel it through actions. 

And truth be told, you need this. You both do. With all the high strung emotions that had nowhere to go until you collided?

This is liberation. 

You’re shoved onto your knees before Yoongi dives into his pants, and you’re already hungry and impatient enough to help him shrug his sweats down before he can do it himself. 

“Choke on it,” he commands, holding his dick and watching as you note how hard he already is. When you waste no time taking him in, you elicit the deepest groan you’ve ever pulled from him when you fling spit onto his length. 

Maybe his reaction is to your face. Because you’re still mad as fuck and you aren’t done letting him know that. 

With a passing thought, you realize that this is all new. But you’re welcoming it because it’s working. Only Yoongi can bring out this passion even in anger, or maybe the two of you were going to get to this point no matter what. 

“Fuck.” He steadies the bottom of your chin while you suck him off. “Uh huh. Got anything else to say?” 

You flick him off, and he hums with a rumble, his cock reacting and hitting the back of your prideful throat. 

“Fuck you, too, doll.” His talks devolve into hisses, grunts, moans when you slobber all over yourself, and your cunt is already dripping with your own slick. “There you go. Gonna take it all? Or are you gonna keep running that mouth?” 

And you pop off before taunting, “Find out, pussy.” 

And you’re swallowing him before he shoves you all the way forward, your body arching up in a gag but filled with him him him, your nose flat against his pelvis and his dick squeezing tears from your eyes and your throat overstuffed to hell and there’s no way he’s gonna forget this moment. You’re making damn sure of it. 

Another middle finger raises as you’re tensing around him, and you can barely hear him above you but you do know he’s massively pleased. Tears stream down your eyes when you’re yanked off, gasping for air and being pulled off the ground. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Throat hoarse, you attempt speech but it doesn’t matter anyway, because his lips steal them all. And your cunt is slapped with a whole palm, making you flinch and shoot out a whine into his kiss. 

Before you know it, your body hits the bed before he joins you, arms bulging as he rips your top open completely. You can’t even think straight as he teases your earlier efforts, “I’ve had better.” 

“Oh, you fucking—Shut the fuck up,” you growl, a moan leaving without permission as he palms your cunt again. Just when you think he’s gonna top you, Yoongi hauls you up, hastily leading you around the bed until your back connects with another wall. 

You love that shit. And you’re starting to think Yoongi is very, very aware of this fact. 

“Take those fuckin’ pants off,” he orders. “And hands on the wall before I put them there.” 

“Can’t make me do shit—”

Fingers grip your chin before Yoongi gets right into your face, primal instinct making you go on full alert. As his tongue prods his cheek, your whole lower body quivers. “I can. And I will, if you don’t behave.” Tapping your jaw in a warning, he hums. “Now do what I fucking say.” 

Holy shit, he’s not playing around. Which only heightens your desire to peaks previously unreached, and you’re shucking your bottoms off while he yanks his drawer open for condoms. Hurrying, you fling your clothes away before planting—

Yoongi smashes his whole front against your back—pinning your whole body against the cold, rough wall—before intertwining long fingers with yours. “Good girl.” 

Hitching your hips back, he sticks your ass out as you slip, and you feel his cock tease your entrance. Groaning, you grip your hands into fists as he continues to rub your cunt but never enter. Denying, denying, denying. Smacking your pussy and still not letting you feel him inside. 

And it’s maddening. “Please!” 

“Please what,” he asks, giving your ass a spank that has you flinching into the wall. 

And, without any shred of mercy, this goes on for longer than he’s ever held out. It’s so sickening that tears start flowing from your eyes, and you devolve into saying anything to get him to fuck your brains out. Between spanks on your ass, slaps on your tits, and aggravating kisses on your back, Yoongi doesn’t let you phase him for minutes. 

It’s when you choke on a sob that he finally, finally squeezes inside of you, checking for your nod before wrecking you completely. 

“Oh, fuck—” Your eyes shut tight as you try to keep yourself upright, hands pushing against the wall as your legs shift with every thrust. 

“This ass. Fuck.” Yoongi’s pace is relentless, hands bruising your hips and your cheeks smacking into his pelvis over and over and over. “It’s a goddamn problem.” 

You’re trying so hard. So, so hard to stay on the wall. But your hands are too sweaty; they're starting to slip with each attempt. “Bed,” you command. “Bed now.” 

And he obliges immediately, pulling out and yanking you back. Mouth to your ear, he both checks in while making your legs jelly, “You tapping out?” 

“Break my fucking back,” you rasp in return, hearing him growl in satisfaction before burying you facedown into his bed. As he plunges inside again, you grip at his sheets, driven to the brink and reveling in all the things he’s saying to you while feeling him in your stomach. 

Suddenly, you feel your arms pulled back, and you yell into his mattress as he buries himself even deeper. Everything you’re screaming makes no sense, but the phenomenal sensation you feel as you go limp renders you speechless anyway. 

Yoongi knows exactly what he’s doing as he pushes his thumb into your asshole, because you clench so hard around him that he chuckles darker than dark. Careening into space, you kiss the edge of euphoria before he inconveniently pulls out, launching a sling of insults from your mouth. 

“What was that?” 

“I said fuck you!” 

“Thought so.” 

Not done in the slightest, Yoongi hauls your thighs so flush against him that you have to use your fingertips for support. Just as you’re about to argue, he rams into you from a new and impossibly enticing angle and holy fuck it feels so good you want to weep.

“Put that fucking hand down,” he growls, smacking away the fingers you didn’t even know were on your mouth. “If you wanna talk shit.” 

“Fuck—!” 

“Uh huh. Let it out, baby girl.”

You’ve never felt this out of control. This wild. This out of body. Your head is yanked back, your back pressing into the front of his shirt before you feel him so far into your guts that you quiver. 

Now at the mercy of his tongue in close range, you hear his gravelly tone in your ear, “What’s my fuckin’ name.” 

“Asshole—” 

A hard smack to your tits has you crumpling with a whine. “Say it.” 

“I’ll say it if I wanna say it—” 

Another spank to your inner thigh and you’re gone. Eyes roll as he tweaks your nipple, and your words are almost garbled when he grips your chin from behind. “This what we’re doing? Hmm?” 

You laugh breathy before you taunt, “Uh huh.” 

“Mm…” Despite your laugh, you shake. “I wouldn’t do that, doll.” 

“Make me. Bet you can’t.” 

Tensed and veins angry, Yoongi grips both your tits before snarling, “That’s enough.” 

Swiftly, he shoves you down into the sheets, muscular frame pinning you as he strokes up into you just right. Again. Again. It’s all too slow and too effective and you’re trying to stay mad but all you can feel is perfection, your back arching at his thrusts and mewling at his low growls in your ear. 

“You wanted this.” Another thrust. “Talking shit.” Your jaw goes slack. “Pissing me off.” 

Your groan is downright erotic. Why why why? Just knowing you’re making him this mad flutters your cunt and, from the sinister chuckle shooting into your neck, Yoongi definitely felt that. 

“Fuckin’ thought so.” 

When he reaches to grab your breasts, the last thrust has you crying out in a flurry of pleasure. 

Every single thought is Yoongi, from beginning to end in a biblical cycle of debauchery. Exertion leaves you slick, sweat coating the expanse of your skin only to press into his bed, your mess your mess your mess. At his hands. The smacks of his cock. The rolls of his hips. Are you gone? Are you here? If he’s bruised then you feel like you are, too, and you welcome the temporary pain as Yoongi’s fingers dig ever deeper into your waist fuck one’s now pinning your head down. 

The moans you let out are unending, and your thighs shake when all you get in response is a laugh of condescension. 

“Look at you. Can’t even stay mad.” 

“Fuck you!” You’re close, you’re close, you’re close again. Release is at your fingertips, but Yoongi yanks himself out to rip it away from your outstretched fingers. “No!” 

“What, doll.” 

“Please!” 

“Nah.” 

Body sore, you’re flipped over with no mercy as something else presses against your cunt. 

Fucking hell, he’s eating you out now? Shaking, you feel Yoongi’s tongue swirl around your thrumming clit before he sucks, edging you to the point of tears and heartbreak. And it proves too much as you grab at his head, yank at his hair, because he lets up when you’re close. 

Every. Single. Time. 

Your madness spirals into your curses, and he relishes in your despair, continuing to lick and suck and slap your thighs with patience. “What do you say?” 

“Please!” 

“Mm. Not loud enough.” 

“Yoongi, please.” 

“Oh, we’re saying names now?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it aches. It’s starting to borderline hurt. “I’ll be good,” you barter, beg, plead with a head spinning off its own axis. “I’ll do anything.” 

“Do it yourself then.” 

Later, when you look back on tonight, you’ll be embarrassed and shy to hell. But right now, you’re so over any shyness that you don’t hesitate, reaching down to rub at your clit and moaning when it’s so sensitive.

And Yoongi gets a front row seat. 

His groan is gutteral. And it doesn’t take you long to quicken your pace, bucking your hips and whining to the ceiling. You’re so so so close it’s right there—

Your hand is smacked away. And after you try to wrestle out of his grip, you are a flat out, blubbering mess. “Yoongi… Please…” 

“Nah.” 

This is torture. And you’re frightened at how much you’re enjoying it. “I’m so close.” 

“You’ll come when I say you can.” 

“Please! …Please..”

“You done being a brat?” 

“No! Fuck. Yes!” If you weren’t so far gone, you may have deciphered a tiny smile of amusement. But it won’t be for months later until you’ll realize that you were wrong. 

Because the menacing flash of teeth you see is much too wide to be anything other than pride. “The fuck did I say? Use your words.” 

You know you’re still upset. You know Yoongi is still upset. But for some reason, you feel closer to him than you have in awhile, and you wonder if lust and madness are two sides of the same coin. “Let me come. Please.” 

Yoongi finally obliges with something he hadn’t pleasured you with yet. And your vision blanks as you yelp at the sensation, his slick fingers pistoning into your folds so fast you’re arching so taut. From between your quivering legs, you hear one final command, 

“Then fucking come.” 

And you burst, so hard you almost feel like something threatens to spew from your cunt. But all you can do is shake and thrash under his grip, so erratic that you feel like Yoongi’s starting to pin you down. Gone, gone, gone, you’re sure the veins of your neck threaten to break through your sweaty skin. 

Then you feel his cock thrust inside of you, and you whip your head forward only to get your airway cut off. “Again,” he calmly repeats, flinging you back to the last time this happened. 

Only this time, there’s even less room for you to make any other choice. 

“I said again.” 

Your body cannot fathom disobedience, pulsing and milking his perfect fit. Over, and over, and over. You hear rumbling from a dragon above, feel breaths of steam whooshing as it watches you come undone. 

“Yoongi—” 

A light slap to your cheek is your only warning before your chin is tugged, lips smushing into yours to swallow your straining sobs. Fuck, fuck, fuck, your body is still thrumming, inundating around his cock until your emotions spill from your core. Toes. Fingers. Everything is straining and locking in place. 

“So fucking hot.” He rips your soul right out. “Shit.” 

You fly through time and space, gathering emotions and feelings and spiraling spiraling spiraling. Crying. You’re crying. Full on crying you’re so overwhelmed with everything truly you were so mean to him you upset him holy fuck you should’ve left when he told you to—

“Baby.” 

But you cannot stop crying, choke choke gasping on sobs. 

“Babe.” 

“I—I—” 

Your name stabs you with a crisp shot, coupled with a firm grip on your chin, snapping you back to lucid. And Yoongi’s eyes are frantically searching your own. “Look at me.” 

You do. Do you? You do. And his eyes… 

They’re not angry at all. It’s pure concern. Steadfast concentration. And something reflecting your soul. “Breathe.” 

“Oh, shit,” you whisper, coughing and reaching for oxygen you didn’t know you were denying. Air rushes back into your lungs as you inhale. 

“There you go. Keep going.” 

You do, gulping down air and hiccuping a breath or two. Your cheek is being caressed, you think. And with another pass, you know it is. 

“Relax for me.” And you hiccup a sob. “Breathe, babe.” 

You do, you do, you do. Yoongi kisses your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and you breathe more and more through it all. “You with me?” 

“Always,” you answer, filter off because you are hanging by a thread and he’s holding the top. “Please don’t kick me out ever,” you hiccup. “Please, baby, I’ll do anything for you but I—could—never handle that—” 

You’re tenderly hushed before lips slide over yours, attempting to swallow your thoughts and your sobs and your oncoming tears. As you flood his bed with apologies, Yoongi keeps wiping them all.

“I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“Babe.” 

“You told me so many times—” 

“Breathe, angel.” 

You blink at the change in name, and it makes you focus just a bit stronger. Floating down from the precipice. 

“I wasn’t kicking you out,” he slowly explains, kissing sweat from your forehead. His words feel like a calm, rock-filled river over your eyes. “I felt like an idiot and hated you seeing me like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Just… Like this.” 

“You’re perfect like this,” you hitch out, not caring about what flows out of your mouth. “So perfect. Always to me. I just wanted to help you, baby, I’m so sorry—” 

He hugs you so tight more tears squeeze out. 

And so do more confessions, “I… I care about you. I think a little too much. If I lost you, I wouldn’t—be able—” 

“I’m here.” 

“So please don’t push me away.” 

“I won’t.” 

“I know you don’t make promises but—” 

“I promise.” Without an ounce of doubt, Yoongi places a firm, lingering kiss on your temple. “Promise. Fuck.” As he holds you tight, you feel him shake before you hear the tiniest sniff at your ear. 

Oh. He doesn’t need to be like this, too. You try to move your hand up between your bodies to comfort him, but your whole limb feels gelatinous. So you simply whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 

You can’t tell how long you lie like this, with his beautiful weight on yours. But time is irrelevant when your mind is unwinding from hours of whirring, starting to finally accept the fact that everyone is okay and you don’t have to be angry anymore. 

“Come on,” Yoongi rasps, voice cracked and airy. “Let’s go.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Shower.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

You’re so thrown and dizzy from what just happened that even getting to the bathroom is a blur. What you kinda feel is Yoongi holding you upright when your legs buckle, but you don’t remember when he leaves your side to turn the water on. 

As he flips on the light, your eyes squeeze until they adjust, and you watch as he tests the water while fully clothed. Air conditioning starts to give you a chill, but the shower warms up just in time because he reaches out to guide you inside. 

Wait. Is he not joining you? Bleary, you grab at his shirt when he steps away, eyes pleading. “Are you coming in, too?” 

Yoongi stops before he gives a shake of his head. “I’ll take mine when you’re done,” he says through a slight smile. “We’ll take care of you first.” 

That doesn’t make sense. Even in your depleting haze, you know something doesn’t add up. “You can join me now. I don’t mind.” When you try to lift his shirt, Yoongi visibly flinches when you brush over his ribs.

And all the murk around your head vanishes in a snap. 

He kept his shirt on that whole time. Not once did your positions allow you to see his upper body fully. And now he’s not gonna get in the shower or take his shirt off? 

Your voice lowers two octaves when you reach full clarity. “Let me see.” 

Unblinking, Yoongi tries to back away, “Don’t worry—” 

“Let me see it, baby,” you command, breath cut until he finally allows you to lift his shirt up holy fuck those injuries look so painful tears prick your eyes. “Oh, my god, Yoongi—” 

“I’m fine.” 

“You’re hurt.” You feel these wounds deep in your ribs, and you tell him to get your kit what the hell he fucked you while feeling those? 

Attempting to alleviate your stress, Yoongi decides to strip fully and step into the shower, ignoring your pleas to grab your med kit and promising you can take care of him when you’re done washing up. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Promise.” 

And when his arms wrap around you, this is when you finally let go. Huge, chest-wracking sobs echo around tile, and Yoongi stays quiet through your cathartic release. 

There’s another reason you were so upset. And it has nothing to do with any of them, but with yourself. The main reason you’ve been so riled up and frustrated is because… This is technically your fault, too. 

But, unsurprisingly, he won’t let you take any blame whatsoever. 

“You got hurt cus I said to play.” 

“Nope.” 

“I wore the outfit that day.” 

“Doesn’t matter.” 

“And lost my friends at the club.” 

“No.” 

Sniffling in quick succession, you think about one other option. Some form of closure that can double as compromise. Voice soft, you suggest the last resort you have, 

“How about we share it.” 

Yoongi blinks twice before he clarifies, “You wanna share the blame?” When you nod, he huffs through the tiniest smile of confusion. “Mm. Then it’s our fault.” 

“Okay.” 

After shaking his head, he closes his eyes, molding his forehead with yours. “What are you doing to me.” 

A sniffle. “Wrecking your water bill.” 

His laughs join yours as you barely get your sentence out before giggling, and to feel him so close and present and here makes your worries slink down the drain. 

Hands trace down your arms, walking along falling rivers before creating ponds with your fingers intertwined. “Gonna clear me out someday.” 

“Duh.” 

He’s himself again. 

And after a whole night of chaos, you feel like yourself again, too. 

That’s all you both need to feel peace. 

-

-

You keep that tranquility carrying you through his room, peeking into his closet to grab the biggest shirt and sweats you can find before drying your head. 

But no matter how much water you can dry, your body will keep being washed in relief. And it’s the calmest feeling, watching as Yoongi does the simplest things near his bed. 

Your lips curve when he pulls up his pants; your heart beats when he grabs a tee. It’s in this moment that you admit that these outfits of his are your favorites, and you gravitate to him as he slips cotton over his damp head. 

“Come on,” you softly offer as you turn. “I’ll make food and get you some ice.”

Again, Yoongi just stares with a faint smile. But his eyes are alive again, so you’re more than fine if he just follows your lead without a word.

In the kitchen, you pause amongst the appliances, the cabinets watching as you utilize your phone to find a good recipe. “What shall we eat… Stew? Or, wait—” 

Looking up, you eye him in thought before choosing to focus on something else. “Actually, let’s figure you out first.” 

Opening yet another tab to add to your hundreds, you type away before selecting a good starting point. “Okay, let’s see. You’re breathing fine, so no bruised ribs. Umm…” 

Scroll, scroll. 

“It looks really bad there, though. You sure you can move right?” 

Despite asking, you go right back to your phone before Yoongi can even respond. Scrolling and clicking and reading again. 

Scroll, scroll. 

“Okay, so no bruised ribs, and according to this you don’t have any broken bones. And nothing fractured, either, thank god—”

“I love you.” 

Time bursts.

Your chest glows. 

Everything starts to beat, beat, beat in slow motion. 

And you don’t even feel like you’re in the room anymore. “…What?” 

You need to hear it again. You need to need to need to, because if you heard him wrong, you will check yourself and bolt right out the door. 

His eyes. 

Despite the battlefield on his skin, they are dripping, and sparkling, and full. The whole world suspends as he stares right into your soul, caressing it with his wounded hands and cradling it in his bruised arms. 

No matter how hard the moon will try—for years, and years, and years more—it will never outshine this single, shaken, solidified admittance. 

“I love you, doll.”

You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to fucking do. 

Why is Yoongi saying this now? Why is he choosing now of all times to make you the happiest person in the universe? 

No. 

Happiness isn’t even close to what you feel and you’re pretty sure you’re crying but nothing makes sense and your vision plunges under sunlit waters. 

“And you don’t have to say anything. I know I don’t deserve to.” 

What?

“I can’t be everything you want. Or need. Or whatever the fuck I’m trying to say. But I just needed you to know because I can’t fucking fight this shit anymore—” 

You lunge forward before he offers his last syllable, careful to avoid his wounds and not mush his face because he would do the same for you. 

And it’s all too much tonight. The lingering fear, the dying anger, the floods of relief, the joy. You can’t stop your sobs from coming out in bursts, your whole body wracking with overwhelming emotion as he grits into your skin,

“Goddamn it, I—”

“Yoongi—”

“—so fucking much.”

Yoongi loves you. He’s here. He loves you, loves you, loves you and the beats of your heart pulse orange and blue, blue, blue. 

Nothing will ever compare to this moment. Nothing. You will bottle this one up in a jar to place next to all the others you have stored, and when you are lonely, or hurt, or even when you’re doing just fine, you will uncork it to surround yourself with this memory and know that everything will be okay. 

He loves you. 

Fuck, he loves you? 

You choke out his name with a sob, and he squeezes you even harder. When you can’t reply with anything else, he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder, his tears taking root and blossoming into beautiful vibrant fruit all along your rib cage.

He loves you.

Why can’t you seem to say it back? What the fuck is wrong with your tongue?

Maybe it’s because saying it doesn’t feel like enough. Like it’s laughable that there are words for this feeling because they don’t nearly represent what you harbor in your very being for this man. 

There’s no way any words are enough. Not for him. Nor for you. Because right now, Yoongi needs something more. And you’re going to give him more than everything. 

“Yoongi, I—”

He captures your lips in his, and you let him push you against his counter and consume you everywhere he wants to. Between his claims, your sobs have room to breathe. Which makes for a horrible showing of your attempting to say what you want to. “I… I can’t… Yoongi—”

Fingers press into the back of your head, a forehead smushing into yours and shutting you up completely. “I’m sorry,” he says, words rolling down the tracks your tears have walked. “I won’t ever be able to say that enough.” 

“Baby,” you hiccup, resting a hand over one of his. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.”

“It is.” You squeeze his hand, feeling the lovely digs of his knuckles in your palm. His scent wafts around you like an embrace, and you know there’s nothing quite like it. At all. “You’re okay, so I’m okay.” 

After he plants a warm kiss on your temple, you feel his hands ball into fists at your ears. “I just—fuck.” 

There’s no telling what he’s thinking about in that brain of his. But you need him to know that there’s nothing more for him to be sorry for. All you care about is that he’s present, responding, and himself. 

“Babe,” you whisper, still not believing those three words coming out of his mouth. “I’m here.” 

“I know.” He sighs, smushing into your lips and holding you so tenderly, yet so tight. As he laps at your tongue, you’re more than sure he can taste your rainfall. 

None of this is real. Because you can’t believe it at all. Even as Yoongi continues his journey across your neck, your shoulders, your jaw, your face, you still can’t piece together that this is truly happening.

When you feel him hard on your pelvis, you remember that he didn’t get the same release you got earlier. But you’re not gonna be the one to suggest going again, all of this will be what he decides. 

And what Yoongi decides is to pull you closer, breathing you in while you do the same. His kisses are never ending, and your hands roam languidly along his shoulders, his hair, stretching across the expanse of his back. One that has held the weight of the world and then some.

His name leaves your mouth in a sigh, your back arching as softly as the kisses being planted along your breasts. 

“If you only knew,” he whispers, laughing to himself as he wraps an arm around your side.

“Knew what?”

“Nothing, babe.” You gasp into his next rough press to your lips. “You’re so—fuck.”

You said you’d let him lead. But as Yoongi starts to walk you into his bedroom again, you think about his injuries and feel more concerned after knowing they’re there. So you quietly stop him as you reach his bed, “Are you sure?” 

“I’ll be alright, doll,” he whispers, lowering you down and smiling so tranquilly your heart lurches. “As much as I think you enjoyed the first time, this time will be better.” 

Giggling, you fight the heat from searing your cheeks as you smile. “You enjoyed it more than I did, I think.” 

“I don’t think so.” Yoongi smirks, getting up. “Lemme get a cond—” 

“It’s okay,” you halt him with a hand, and he freezes. 

Full stop. No movement. Not even a breath. “...What?” 

“We don’t…” You swallow, stomach fluttering at his expression. “We don’t have to this time.” 

Because Yoongi’s eyes have not left your face. “You sure?” 

Then something causes you to smile. Knowing that if there’s anyone you want to do this with, it’s this man right here and now. There’s genuinely no one else in the world with whom you would wanna share this experience, and the fact that he’s still asking makes you emotional.

Cradling his face with the most tender touch you can imagine, you confirm, “Just for a little bit.” And you add something you think he needs to keep hearing. “I trust you.” 

Gulping down any extra emotions spilling from your heart’s chalice, your words come out a little wobbled. “And I want to, if you want it, too.” 

“I want what you want, doll.” 

“Then it’s okay.”  

Clothes on or off, you still feel so shy underneath him. 

But this time, you vow to shove those feelings of unworthiness to the side. Because you are fully invested in this moment above all others. And Yoongi deserves more than you can give. 

When he slowly tugs his sweats from your legs, you’re already choking back tears. As he climbs on top, you await the connection you never in your dreams would’ve imagined. 

And when Yoongi stares at you one more time, you know exactly what he’s asking. 

“Yes, my love,” you wisp into his skin, craning up to kiss him and swallowing his last slice of doubt. Knowing you’ll say it again and again and again. 

His brows pinch as he kisses you—slow, purposeful, understanding. Then he positions himself, and you can physically feel his hand brush your cunt as he does so. If he ever asks if you felt him shake, you will deny it. But only for a year or two. 

As soon as you feel him—only him, solely him—you swell with a current of emotion. And it pulls you all the way under when he’s fully sheathed inside. 

“Holy fucking shit.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Fuck.” 

Simply having him inside, with no barriers or obstacles in between? You’re already close. There’s no early explanation, but you already feel overwhelmed enough to come. 

No no no. You want this to last forever, so you wait for Yoongi to gather himself because he appears to be fighting, too. 

Chuckling, you ask, “You good, baby?” 

And your lover snaps his gaze to your face, bangs sweeping across your cheeks and eyes unblinking. “Yeah, just...” He stares at your inquisitive expression before whooshing out a harsh breath. “Just this is about to make me bust.” 

You burst into laughter before admitting you were just thinking the same thing, and his slow grin makes you want to cry. “We’re not good at this.” 

“No. You’re too good at this. I can’t even move.” 

“Yes, you can,” you whine. “You wreck my shit all the time.” 

Feeling a twitch more prominent than ever, you giggle as Yoongi puffs out pained amusement. “Doll, if you keep talking like that, I’m pulling out.” 

“Okay, okay,” you surrender, loving how out of sorts he seems. He’s fighting for his life and you’re enjoying the hell out of it. 

“You’re a little too perfect right now.”

Maybe one day you will agree with him. But that day is far from reach, your head shaking in quiet disagreement.

“You are.”

“Nowhere close,” you whisper.

His nose brushes against yours. “Say that again and see what happens.”

“Is that what you tell all the others fuck!”

His shove up your cunt makes you see stars. “What did I fuckin’ say?” 

“What—”

Another launch has you careening through space, lip bitten and suppressing a hearty whine. “You think there’s someone else?” Again. “Hmm?” 

Again. 

You’re so dazed and mind-fucked to pieces that your speech is barely audible. But your chin is grabbed as you’re snapped straight, and your eyes try their hardest to focus on slitted ones above. “You’re gonna regret saying that.” 

You just laugh, whine pinging sharp into the ceiling as he shoves forward so hard your whole body shifts upward. “Oh, yeah?” 

Yoongi doesn’t respond with words, thrusting up again and sending you twisting and winding towards the edge unbelievably fast. “Uh huh.” 

“Make me then,” you gasp out. “Make me really sorry.” 

The sound Yoongi makes comes from deep within his stomach, the rumbling hum shooting right into your veins like liquid fire. 

And the full-on attack he bursts into renders you completely speechless. Everything Yoongi does pulls you deliciously in all directions—his thrusts, his chain hitting his chest, his grip on your wrists, the way he snags your chin. Everything. 

“Taking me so well like this.” 

“I—”

“So fucking tight.”

Fuck fuck fuck it’s habitual for you at this point, and you unhinge your jaw a split second before he smacks the side of your face. Desire lowers your lids halfway as you feel empowered, and you don’t even recognize your voice as you order him on the spot. “Do it again.” 

Yoongi doesn’t stop his pace as he keeps his eyes on you. 

“Do it again,” you growl, fully limp and a groaning mess when he does exactly what you want. 

Fuck, the pain feels good. So good that you reach up and choke him out. But the back of your head is grabbed before you feel hungry lips smash into yours. You feel your wrists pinned again by one large palm, air chilling for a moment before a hot mouth captures one of your nipples. “Oh, fuck, Yoongi!” 

“Uh uh.” 

“Please—please—” 

You’re still tensing as he devours your chest below his shirt, strokes now slower but just as powerful. 

Your arms still haven’t been freed, but there’s something about being under his control that has you loving this position. Without question. Maybe it’s the fact that you can see him now, losing himself just as he saw you washes in the throes of passion. 

And he licks, sucks, lolls his tongue all over your tits, whispered praises sinking through your bosom as he keeps a grip on your wrists. 

“Baby,” you gasp. “I’m close, I’m—” 

“Shit.” Air whooshes over you before you feel your arms freed and him yank himself out, and you freeze as he unloads right on your stomach, a sharp cocktail of pride and shock in your gut. 

Holy fuck, Yoongi was that close? Did he hold out as long as he could? Shit, he’s breathing so hard his jewelry shakes as it dangles. 

You’re still so surprised that your arms are still locked into bends, and he glances up at you from his kneeled state. “Fuck,” he laughs, and is that… Is Yoongi shy? “Thought I could hold out.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you assure through your own tiny chuckle. “Oh my god, I promise.” 

He leans down to plant a heart fluttering kiss on your lips, but you hate how he looks pained on the way down. 

Those hits he took… Now you kinda understand his perspective. Because now you want to avenge him in five hundred thousand ways—almost half as many ways as you want to show him how you feel. 

“Stay there, beautiful,” Yoongi orders as he moves to get off the bed, wincing in passes. “I’m not done with you.” 

Damn. He looks even more exhausted than before. “Baby, are you sure?” 

But Yoongi walks right to his bathroom to retrieve a towel, and your eyes may as well transform into hearts when you watch him come back to you. So handsome, even now. Even when he’s simply holding a washcloth, hair completely mussed, soul sparkling and face bruised. 

As he sits to clean your face before moving to your stomach, you can only observe his eyes. So experienced. Calm. At peace. When they drift to yours, it’s instinct that has you shying away. “What, love.” 

Another reason to crumble inside. “I just… nothing,” you whisper. 

And Yoongi finishes with the cloth before tossing it somewhere. “Tell me,” he says, lying down on the ribs with more damage. “I wanna know.” 

“Come on this side,” you tell him, and he obliges without a word. “It’s a secret.” 

“A secret?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

Yoongi settles before lifting your chin, rubbing an affectionate thumb over any tears still persevering on your cheeks. “I can keep those, you know.” 

Smiling, you fold way too easily. “Okay, I’ll tell.” 

When he leans in, your nervousness and excitement to tell him almost spoils your ability to do so. Like someone gifting a present while wanting to say what it is before it’s even opened. 

“I love you, too,” you whisper, tears sprinting to your ducts as Yoongi freezes. When he looks at you, you can’t help but choke on a sob seeing his eyes get as red as the marks on his cheek. “And you deserve more than I could ever give.” 

His eyes hold the heavens and the seas. 

You’re right. Just saying it isn’t fucking enough.

You’re already liplocked again before you can think, saltwater on your face and you don’t even know whose eyes it came from.

Determined, Yoongi starts kissing a trail from your lips to your jaw, and you start to cry as he makes his own journey down the expanse of you. 

All of you.

Is this what it feels like? Is all of this actually, genuinely real?

You hope so, because you feel devotion in each press of his lips, and every touch will be remembered in its own right. Its own pocket of time.

Every single stop.

It almost feels divine when his mouth reaches your folds, lapping at your essence and swirling around your clit. When you say his name, Yoongi says nothing, instead palming your thighs and eating you out like he has all the time in the world. 

Swelling, you already feel close. 

But the way he gets you to fantasia is so natural that you slide into your quivers seemlessly. The transition into your heaven flows like a stream, and your waves engulf his tongue and coat his mouth without trouble. 

This is what it feels like. What it feels like with Yoongi. 

And you wanna keep making love until only sleep can take you from him.

Your hands jut into his hair, gasping as he keeps his pace, and no matter how you squirm he is dead set on holding you down until holy fuck you’re coming again. 

How? What’s happening to you? This constant stream of release is shocking you to the point of crying out, and Yoongi groans into your orgasm and prolongs it with the whole press of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, baby—!” Another wave overcomes the next, and you outright quake in his hands, eyes rolling and vision blinking white. Muscles lock as you can’t keep up with the pleasure, and you’re mercilessly let go only for lips to descend on yours.

Your tears spill into your ears as you kiss him back, wrapping tired arms over his shoulders and raking in deep. 

“Fuck.” And you feel his cock lodge against your entrance, and you’re amazed how hard he is again. 

Does he want what you want? Is he ready again? 

As Yoongi quietly gets up to get a condom, you’re amazed that he wants to keep going after everything that’s transpired. But, if he feels like you do, he’s ready to keep going until the sun comes up three whole times. 

When he sits next to you, your better half appears shy as he bites the wrapper. “Don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Oh, I already know.”

“K. But god, I fuckin’ want to.”

You bite your lip to hold back your smile, remembering what he said a long time ago and bringing it back full circle for the next thing you both wanna try. “One day.”

Yoongi only grins. 

And for the next hour, your lover, your secret, your home gives you everything he has, and you come for him more times than you ever have in your life.

Every time, he drags your pleasure out, expertly tearing you down with his movements and building your confidence up with his words. He tells you you’re perfect, and he disagrees when you disagree. When you find tears on your face, he kisses those away, too. When you feel along his silver, he simply watches you in silence. 

No sadness, doubt, nor anger to be found. 

After you physically can’t do any more, Yoongi lies at your side, silent as you play with his hair. You do your best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally push into any of his injuries that you’re gonna beg him to get checked in the morning. 

Once he’s healed? That’s when you’ll never let go. Because you want to crush him into you completely. Mold into him, just so he can feel the brevity of your highest affection. 

“I’m sorry for yelling,” you finally whisper. “But I really was so mad at you. All of you.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“It won’t happen again.” 

“That’s what you said last time.” 

Yoongi stares, seeming to withhold something from you before he palms your cheek. “They were gonna follow us home if we didn’t, babe,” he reveals, snapping your heart back in two. “We all knew that.” 

“Oh, fuck.” Everything hits you at once: why they stayed, why you and Taehyung had to leave. Why Tae didn’t bring you straight back to the house. And the burns at your eyes match the searing in your gut. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about that.” 

When you start to cry, Yoongi sits up and hangs his head between his sweats. “You don’t need to think about shit like that,” he murmurs, sounding defeated as ever. “But we talked after you told us off. We won’t hide that from you anymore.” 

Sniffling, you whisper out a thank you. But you don’t want Yoongi to feel like he has to distance himself, so you untangle him—slowly, gently–-before bringing him into your chest. 

After dealing with all that and the tempest in his living room, this man still let you in. From the looks of things, there’s a lot that he had been fighting, and you’re more than appreciative that he opened his door. Not knowing how to put these feelings into words, you say the first things that come to mind. And for some reason, they feel heavier on the way out, 

“Thank you for letting me in. It was raining really hard.” 

Yoongi stiffens hard before holding you closer. 

“Babe?”

No response. Just another batch of weighted quiet. 

Worried, you tilt your head. “Hey. Look at me.”

If he stays right where he is, you’ll have to respect that decision. But he ends up pushing himself up, and as soon as you see moonlight catch on a falling tear, all your instincts reach for him, “Oh, fuck, come here.”

You surround him with everything you have, wanting every single bit of warmth birthed from his love to fill his space instead of yours. Whatever he needs, you will give. “It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, holding him so close but not nearly close enough. 

Never close enough.

His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you will let him live there whenever he needs to. “I’m not mad anymore, okay?” God, you hate how he’s still so silent. You get it, but you hate whatever made him default to this state. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

After light rain fills the room, your soul breaks at a sniffle, and you crush your love even tighter.

“This isn’t about that, doll,” Yoongi finally whispers, burying wet eyes further into your shoulder. “It’s just…”

It’s what? What’s he thinking about? Hopefully it’s not anything—

“It’s so fucking better when you’re here.” 

When you choke out a sob, his body locks, words pouring from nowhere and everywhere. “I sleep better. Eat better. Fuck, I even feel better even if nothing else changes.”

“Yoongi…”

“It’s true.” Sighing, he sniffles again before letting his weight drop onto you in resignation. Or relief. “I mean that.”

“Then… Those three months…”

“One day, I’ll tell you everything,” he offers, making you wonder what the hell he’s been through in the past. And if it has something to do with that guitar he smashed to pieces. “But from now on, you can be here whatever you want.” 

Many things have shifted tonight. As if an earthquake had upturned everything between the both of you, only peace has settled in its wake. A peace you had never felt before. As you brush fingers through his hair, you joke, “So I can come to those parties you host, too?” 

“Those weren’t my idea, by the way. Jimin made me.” Kissing your shoulder, Yoongi continues to admit, “He was worried. And hoping you would show.”

Oh. That’s news to you. 

“I knew you wouldn’t. But.” He exhales before nestling in further. “I did hope to see you, too.” 

“It’s okay.” You rub the back of his neck, your fingers feeling nothing but warmth and the softness of his clothes. “It would’ve been too obvious.”

“What would’ve.”

“That I wanted you all to myself.”

“You already have that.”

When you stiffen, your words are tiny. “You know what I mean.”

Yoongi laughs soft, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it up for a kiss as you blurt, “My brother was the one that invited me. To come to those, I mean.”

The way he blinks is comical. “Huh.”

“I know.” It’s your turn to bring his hand close, kissing along his knuckles before you stare out the window behind him. “It makes me wonder if he knows.”

“What if he does?”

You snap your eyes right to his. “Does he?”

Yoongi watches your lips linger on his fingers before he tells the truth, “No.”

“Okay. But you’re sure I can stay?” 

“Who do you think you bought those groceries for?” 

Oh. Wait. “What?” 

Grinning so sly, Yoongi reveals the plan he had all along, “I get you for a week, right?”

Oh. Holy shit. You cannot quite possibly deal with what this man is saying. That whole time you were shopping for his list… No wonder he was already done with dinner when you got there oh you’re gonna get him back for that. 

Light bursts from your center as you grit out through a grin, “You sneaky little—” Pulling his tilted mouth in for another kiss, your heart pulses little pink stars as he leans in with a laugh, and you meet lips again and again until he slowly, reluctantly stops. 

“One day,” he murmurs out of nowhere, and you flick your eyes to his. “I’ll be better.”

Of course he will. You have no doubts. But, just like he always does for you, you’re gonna start offering the same reassurance out loud, even if he knows it’s there. 

And you can’t contain your little laughs at your own joke, despite him just staring into your face right after you crack it, “Don’t make it just one day, silly.” 

Even if you’re very serious, it’s in your nature to lighten things up. Especially after hearing such wonderful news for what’s coming. Clutching a little bit of his shirt, you whisper with complete devotion, 

“We’ll make it as many as we can.”

You hate how you feel him freeze, knowing what that means, what plaguing little thoughts are embedded in that tiny shift. 

Yoongi’s still hesitant to accept.

Because you are, too. In many ways. But this man has been picking you up and making you stronger day after day—in both his presence and absence—that you can’t help but fight to do the same. 

Does he ever think about you? Does he know that you’ll always be with him? No matter how close or far apart you are? You hope so. Because it’s so true that your heart is searing that promise into your soul, branding it as a reminder to reciprocate all this genuine love you’ve never been given before.

He loves you?

You still can’t accept that as fact.

…Maybe one day.

You chuckle to yourself, deciding to keep talking because Yoongi is still so very quiet. “At least. Until the day I get to meet my cat,” you huff in triumph. “Then I’m running away with her.”

It’s a perfect strike of a match. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You pretend to pout. “But I’m starting to think she ran away already and you won’t fess up.”

Yoongi laughs so suddenly you flinch. After a playful scoff, he tries to make you feel better, “She’s still here!”

“Lies.”

“How much are you betting, doll.”

“How much are you willing to lose, babe.”

“This much,” he finally says, pinching your sides and hissing laughter when you scream. “Maybe I’ll make you leave after all if you’re gonna be a problem.” 

“You did threaten to kick me out before.” 

“Huh? When?”

“That day I showed up,” you remind him through a chuckle. Thrown back to that first night, you start to see all the parallels between then and now. And how vastly different things have become. “Said you were gonna kick me out for hustling you.” 

The glorious laughter from the depths of his belly makes you grin, and you cringe when his brows pinch in both laughter and pain. “I should’ve!” 

He needs to get those hits healed. “You really should’ve.” 

“Played me from the very start. You happy with yourself?” When you nod, Yoongi shakes his head. “Course you are.” 

“You love it.” 

“I do.” Your eyes meet, which proves dangerous for you because he bites his smirk before pulling you in for a kiss. “Thought I was gonna say it, huh.” 

“No!” You lie. Because no, you certainly were not! “…Maybe.” 

“Guess what.” 

Suddenly paranoid, you give him a look, already expecting to be tricked again. 

But Yoongi captures your lips without warning, curling your toes into sheets you’re now achingly familiar with. After a few passes, he shifts above, planting a hand at your side and letting his chain slide against your chest as he slots a leg in between yours. 

Yet again, you think about that first night, that first time. The first of apparently, surprisingly, wonderfully unexpectedly many. 

Who would’ve thought rain and a broken ego would bloom into something good? Who would’ve believed a person so close to your roots would be your home? 

As he lets up with one last slow stroke of his tongue, you whisper, “What were you gonna say?” 

At this, Yoongi spreads closed lips, taking his time planting a peck on your nose. “I just fucking love you, doll.” 

Oh. He’s a menace and the most annoying tease on the planet. 

When you can’t do anything but flee into his chest, Yoongi immediately laughs, forcing you back out of your little shell. “You can’t hide now, babe.” 

“I can!” 

Leaned forward in your struggle, you give him no choice but to swoop his head into your neck. Which backfires on you immensely because he decides it’s the perfect time to rasp deep against your ear, “I love fucking you, too.” 

His name flies out of your mouth in disbelief and embarrassment, and his heightened amusement puffs into the burning column below your chin. 

This is the moment something comes over you. Slams into you. Washes you in present nostalgia like lingering footsteps on a balcony. 

And it hurts. It really, really hurts. 

Instead of laughing along, you come down from your high, squeezing him like the pillow that couldn’t replicate his warmth for months. “I miss you.”

After a second, Yoongi questions, “How? I’m right here.”

You know that. You do. But with every hello there’s a goodbye, and you don’t want that this time. Especially now that your heart knows that his beats the same. 

Breathy and shaken, you rest your head in his chest, hoping he doesn’t hear but does at the same time, “I still miss you.”

Strong fingers weakly press into your sides, and while you can’t see him, you know for a fact that his smile is gone. Because he also knows goodbye is coming again, and you can’t stay here forever as long as this is all a secret. 

You feel a sigh wisp over your head before words that make no fucking sense follow it out, “I can’t do shit like this anymore.” 

…What?

No. No no no he can’t be done just like that you both just confessed everything you need to fight say something anything anything—

“I wanna do this the right way.” 

Oh. 

Yoongi’s chest… It’s shaking. 

Pushing yourself up, you search his eyes for answers. “What are you saying?” 

When he looks at you, there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Or maybe it has been there all along, and he only needed a spark to set it ablaze. “I’m saying I’ll tell him, doll. Just me.” 

Oh. Oh, shit. Didn’t he say not yet? Didn’t he say he needs more time? He said he’d figure it out what is with the sudden…

Your tears are automatic as Yoongi roams his gaze from one eye to the other, and he’s swallowing before taking a step. A step you didn’t think he’d make. One you didn’t have the courage to take yourself. 

When he utters the words, your soul lets rain fall just as the storm resides.

And right as moonlight shines through his blinds.

“I’ll tell him everything.” 

-

-

tbc. :)

-

so... how did it go! | join the server!

a/n: so. here we are, over two years and 250k+ words later. thank you for sticking with me if you're still here, and thank you for being the most amazing readers a writer could ever, ever ask for. if you can interact or let me know what you enjoyed/like, i would be eternally grateful. these two parts took all of me, and i'm gonna take a break for a little bit before starting on the next part. a/n 2: thank you for also being here despite the highs and lows! things have really weighed on me for awhile, which prevented me from working on this part forreal. but my mental feels a lot lighter now, and i am ready to keep running with y'all. so thank you for your support and encouragement, no matter how you show it! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

[astonmartinii]

spice up your life | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem horner!reader

slam it to your left and fall in love with your dad's team's main rival, shake it to your right and cause chaos

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by christianhorner, lewishamilton and 1,093,448 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: matcha only soz babe

view all comments

user4: they're so aesthetic i love them

user5: i need these f1 connections so my desk can look like that

lewishamilton: in matcha we trust - and almave, check it out at www.almave.com

yourusername: get that bag queen?

lewishamilton: i am just a cog in the capitalist machine

yourusername: babe you are the capitalist machine mr. millionaire

lewishamilton: all i'm gonna say is let's make sure we're in monaco when the inheritance comes in

christianhorner: i can see this?

lewishamilton: is this the point when i'm meant to say sorry?

yourusername: considering we're on the way to his house yeah probably

lewishamilton: sorry i guess

christianhorner: i'll take it for now

user6: the way dads are usually mean to their daughter's bf but it's just on crack with christian and lewis

user7: all i can think is that it must have been hell in 2021

user8: i mean lewis and y/n have been together for years so like it's probably just a running joke (for now)

maxverstappen1: i will fight you if you dare bring me a matcha latte again - I ASKED FOR A RED BULL

yourusername: girl.

maxverstappen1: don't think i can't unseat you for christian's favourite

yourusername: if it's a scrap you're asking for you're gonna get one

maxverstappen1: bring it on

lewishamilton: are you sure you guys aren't related?

yourusername: as if i'd want to be related to THAT

maxverstappen1: babe you WISH you had looks like this

lewishamilton: okay....

user9: someone free lewis

user10: i know he regularly questions how much he can take

lewishamilton: y/n is worth it :)

yourusername: love you babe x

lewishamilton

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,400,331 others

tagged: yourusername, christianhorner & gerihorner

lewishamilton: no more racing means i'm stuck with this lot

view all comments

user11: imagine getting on the tube and it's lewis and christian

user12: clearly the biggest deal here is GINGER SPICE

yourusername: you love us really

lewishamilton: i love YOU really

christianhorner: i know you love me deep down lewis

lewishamilton: i'll say yes but just because it's that time of the year

yourusername: that's the spirit !!

christianhorner: you should keep me on side you never know who is picking behind you in white elephant

lewishamilton: you WOULDN'T

christianhorner: it is my job to be able to read you and i know for a fact that you come to white elephant with the intentions to just claim the gift you bought. and because i know this i have correctly deduced the gift you have brought every year. i will claim it this year just to spite you

lewishamilton: damn. toto isn't even this level.

user13: lewis is so real for claiming his own gift at white elephant

maxverstappen1: YOU RIG WHITE ELEPHANT????

yourusername: lMAO

maxverstappen1: he is disrespecting the horner christmas traditions

lewishamilton: you're not a horner bro

maxverstappen1: @christianhorner MAKE HIM TAKE IT BACK !!! TELL HIM I'M A HONORARY HORNER NOW

christianhorner: max is a honorary horner

maxverstappen1: see !!!!!!!!! @lewishamilton you're not even a horner STONES AND GLASS AND HOUSES OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT

lewishamilton: *not yet

yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

user14: idk about you but i actually live for the lil spats between all of them and y/n just watching with popcorn

user15: is he teasing an ENGAGEMENT

user16: i mean they've been together for years we've been waiting

christianhorner

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 781,223 others

tagged: lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 & yourusername

christianhorner: happy birthday to one of the greatest of all time in our sport and the love of my daughter's life. i can't say i was overjoyed by her choice in a boyfriend when i first found out, but you guys are perfect for each other! happy birthday and don't have too much fun

view all comments

user17: annual toto and christian truce on lewis' birthday

user18: i know lewis and y/n are just chuckling to themselves when they once again purposefully sit christian and toto together

user19: plus george and max together

lewishamilton: thank you christian, i hope to annoy you on track as much as i do off track this season!

yourusername: i don't think his blood pressure can take that babe

christianhorner: i am not that old

yourusername: if that's what you wanna hear... sure!

christianhorner: i wanted this to be a happy post don't make me call in max

yourusername: ... you wouldn't?

maxverstappen1: i'm already here dumbass

lewishamilton: of course you are

maxverstappen1: i was going to say happy birthday but i'm always down to tussle with y/n

yourusername: i will read your ass for filth

lewishamilton: and i will help :)

maxverstappen1: fine. you win this round birthday boy and other one

user20: i hope they keep up this bit forever

yourusername: *happy birthday to the sexiest guy in the world. there fixed it for you

christianhorner: that would be quite inappropriate for me to say

lewishamilton: i see how it is christian

yourusername: don't worry babe the most important horner thinks you're sexy and that's all that matters

lewishamilton: i love you too, you're definitely the sexiest horner

maxverstappen1: max verstappen erasure

yourusername: FUCK OFF

user21: can christian just adopt max already?

lewishamilton: don't give him any ideas

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, alexalbon and 2,311,044 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: can you guys stop fucking yelling at me now. jokes, i just got engaged to the love of my life, it doesn't get any better than this (though if your dad and quasi-brother wanna let me win a race i'd be thankful)

view all comments

user25: crying like it's my own two kids getting married oh my

user26: the dress is going to be so fucking beautiful i can't wait !!

yourusername: haven't stopped crying, i love you so much

lewishamilton: i love you more

yourusername: NOT POSSIBLE

lewishamilton: i'd be prepared to swear it in a court of law

yourusername: i'd be prepared to literally carve it into my body

lewishamilton: .... babe

yourusername: too far?

lewishamilton: probably, but i appreciate the notion

user27: do we wanna put bets on whether max is going to be nice or a goblin?

maxverstappen1: congratulations assface i guess you really are gonna be a horner before me

lewishamilton: your happiness is really translating through the screen

maxverstappen1: despite popular opinion, i am very happy for you guys and i am very grateful that you treat me like family xoxo

maxverstappen1: okay that's enough being nice, save me a slice of cake or your ass is grass

yourusername: awwww maxy i knew you loved us really!!

maxverstappen1: maybe enough to make me best man?

yourusername: not best man... but you could be my man of honour

maxverstappen1: WHAT ??? FOR REAL ??? DON'T FUCK WITH ME Y/N I'LL CRY

lewishamilton: as much as you annoy me, we'd love you to be part of our day

georgerussell63: max in the wedding party and i'm not... i won't hesitate to get toto on the phone

lewishamilton: I JUST PROPOSED CAN EVERYONE HOLD THEIR HORSES FOR TWO FUCKING SECONDS

user28: so real of you lewis

christianhorner: congratulations!! i can't wait for the big day and for you to finally be a part of the family - JOINT CHRISTMAS I EXPECT EVERYONE THERE THIS YEAR

user29: okay someone check this man's tea

yourusername: thank you dad xxx love you lots

lewishamilton: thank you christian, i will pass on the christmas message

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and 1,224,551 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: *fiance

view all comments

user29: the first pic? she on f1 twt or what?

lewishamilton: biggest honour eva

yourusername: nuh uh i'm marrying a knight DOES THAT MAKE ME A PRINCESS

lewishamilton: you're already a princess to me

yourusername: yeah i love you and all that but will the crown recognise me

lewishamilton: probably not ...

yourusername: lol screw them team diana forever

maxverstappen1: insufferable as always

yourusername: i will DESTROY you in a tickle battle when i next see you, consider that a warning

maxverstappen1: i'd like to see you try

yourusername: my new ring makes my slap a hell of a lot stronger btw

maxverstappen1: we get it you're getting married gosh

yourusername: you better get used to it unless you don't want to be man of honour anymore...

maxverstappen1: NO I DO

lewishamilton: this is great i'm gonna hang that over him every time he fucks me over in qualifying

maxverstappen1: UGH

christianhorner: do NOT forget dinner tonight, everyone has come (even the distant ones you didn't know about)

yourusername: we'll be there

lewishamilton: how many are we talking?

lewishamilton: i mean... i can't wait!!

lewishamilton

liked by sebastianvettel, yourusername and 2,410,551 others

tagged: mercedesamgf1

lewishamilton: finally got the 104 - i think the ring was good luck xx

view all comments

user30: WAR IS OVER HOLY FUCK THANK THE LORD

yourusername: falsehoods it was all you baby

lewishamilton: maybe it was the fact you had a merc cap on rather than that nasty ass red bull hat

yourusername: lewis !!

christianhorner: back winning and immediately on the offensive, i see

lewishamilton: i am ... sorry. got a lil excited - y/n does look best in my colours

christianhorner: i am obviously going to disagree

yourusername: can't we all be happy !!

christianhorner: after debrief and out of a 60 mile radius of toto wolff then yes

user31: can they get engaged every week please?

georgerussell63: so like i defended for you... can i be in the wedding party now?

yourusername: no?

maxverstappen1: HA

georgerussell63: lewis???

lewishamilton: i do what y/n says soz

georgerussell63: traitor. can carmen and i at least get front three rows at the ceremony?

yourusername: keep your nose away from any red bulls and maybe

christianhorner: that's my daughter :)

user32: imagine going into a coma in like 2015 and seeing brocedes is dead and buries and lewis and y/n HORNER are engaged even despite AD21

user33: why isn't this the focus of drive to survive?

yourusername: we're too sexy for netflix .... but we would do our own limited series for a price

lewishamilton: and you called me the capitalist machine ... ok

fin.

note: here it is my last WIP !! i haven't written for lewis in so long and i loved the dynamics in this (i think you can tell that i love max, considering he ends up in everything i write lol). so this also means... the requests are open !! i've already had exciting ones but feel free to send in more. also mamma mia p6 is now in the works as well. december is gonna be super busy for me (it's my birthday on the fifth) but hopefully i'll get some christmas themed ones out for all yall that celebrate !!

[theycalledhimastar]

Thinking of Johnny, but not about how sweet or handsome he is, but all the weird shit he does. Because humanizing these guys gives me life.

☄. *.

I know for a fact that Johnny smells like Old Spice. And not the normal amount, either. Like he uses far too much, and he uses every single product they have. Shampoo, Body wash, deodorant, if they had toothpaste, he would use it. Johnny feels like the type of person to use far too many scents at once, whether it's the same or they clash, doesn't matter because it's an assault on the nose and he never seems to notice.

"Don't I smell fresh? Why ye actin' so put off?" Because you literally smell like the bodywash section of a beauty store, love. That's why.

I *also* know that this man yells, like a lot. Not even when he's upset, he's actually quiet when he is upset. But when he's excited about something, anything, he just... forgets entirely that some people have ears and aren't half bloody deaf from listening to music far too loud. Sport nights are horrible, he sounds as loud as a group of five all on his own.

He has weird ass feet too, take that as you will, his feet are just... weird. I can't describe it, you literally have a rule that he has to wear socks around the house to keep from cringing when he has the dogs out. (idk, I just feel this in my soul)

Moves around constantly, like man will not sit down for more than five minutes, not even to cuddle, he just gets handsy and uses you as a fidget toy. Not in a sexy way either, he will like squeeze the fat of your stomach or thighs like a stress ball. If you tell him to stop, he'll just kind of whine that he needs something for his hands to do.

Will wear the same tee for like, three days in a row if he thinks it isn't too dirty or smelly. Bro is a sniff test connoisseur and it'd be impressive if it wasn't a little weird. Man walks around in the same three outfits and while he looks good in anything, you... aren't really sure how to feel about his odd laundry habits. (And you really really hope that shirts are the only thing he reuses like that.)

(I dunno why I decided to make this, but I thought I was funny lol)

[chocsra]

✧ more personal chuuya hcs !!

✧ appearence hcs:

has a small small face

long, naturally curled, luscious eyelashes

soft and silky ass hair

very smooth, soft looking ivory skin

repping mestiso community, described as beautiful and unique

he actually glows in like any good lighting, golden hour does him best

his beauty is like majestic but gets called pretty a lot

bones did him soo wrong, he has toned sleeper build guys trust

naturally low-lided, sleepy eyes

he has really pretty brown eyes

has russet hair, NOT a ginger, he's more of a reddish brunette

slim, large hands that are really attractive

SNATCHED waist

he has a few pretty freckles

old money aesthetic

90s hot.

my personal hc is that his appearence comes from some sort of european descent, be it french or spanish blood that made his features so unique

looks so unreal that he looks otherworldly or like a doll; alien beauty

his skin reminds you of porcelain; this man's skin is mad flawless

ties his hair up at home into either a manbun or ponytail

has an 8+ step skincare routine..

has a super raspy voice in the morning/night

always takes his gloves off in the cuntiest manner - either biting the fingertips off one by one or that one manga panel where he bites the wrist part

whines when he stretches and it always catches u off guard

✧ crack/general hcs:

dances like hyunjin from skz (knows how to and practices his moonwalk)

bro is a WHEEZER when he genuinely laughs, he also feels the need to say ur not funny to keep ur ego in check when he is in fact laughing his ass off

when yall are laughing ur ass off (drunk or not) just know yall will be collasping on the floor feeling the six pack coming in

rip chuuya - you would've loved making electric guitar thirst traps on tiktok

he LOVES rollarcoasters or anything with a kick to it tbh (fast car or motorcycle rides) bc he loves gravity dzuh, but yknow what he CANT take??

them seats in the movie theatre where they move according to the movie, he gets way too invested in movies and the seats moving like crazy fries his brain (IM SORRY IF U DONT KNOW WHAT IM TALKING AB, THEYRE CALLED DBOX)

he ofc has a weakness for dogs but if he ever tries to feed a stray cat and it runs away or hisses he gets a little sassy and hisses back

sleeps like a dying victorian child. you walked onto him sleeping once and contemplated on calling a priest

one of those people who have copies of the same clothing item, or they're like barely any different. you see his hat rack and he gets offended bc "all his hats are completely different"

he scoffs a lot

starts chasing you if you ever MENTION the times when he was 15 (has made cringy youtube diss tracks with dazai, lost the login, now that videos up forever..)

if you're short like him and tell a story complaining about how ppl call u short, he gets personally offended FOR you

likes reading books but they vary from sophisticated novels to books like "HOW TO STAND ON BUSINESS?!?!"

his spice tolerance is wild, even if he can't actually take it he still will to prove a point

since his voice is pretty guttural whenever he has a voice crack while speaking you both pause and look at each other in silence before you laugh and he just goes "shut up.. shut up.. 😒"

he likes to mock ppl (lovingly) w higher voices like higuchi (especially when shes talking ab aku) bc it's older brother vibes and their reactions are always priceless

✧ chocsra™

[fairyhaos]

seventeen as types of tea

requested by anon ! my tea knowledge is like. a little bit extensive. but only a little, so some of these r based off of what google says these teas taste like ++ the vibes they give me ^^

masterlist

seungcheol

ginger tea. the warmth and the spiciness and the slight sweetness of the tea definitely give me strong seungcheol vibes. the fact that it's good for you and also super delicious? hmm yeah idk but it's giving scoups

jeonghan

honey tea. a gentle, sweet tea that melts on your tongue. it reminds me of being taken care of by my mother, bc she always gave me honey tea when i was sick. for me, its a comforting tea, and the lovely sweetness gives me jeonghan vibes. 

joshua

bergamot tea. most people know it as earl grey tea, and it sounds like it'll be a musky, tasteless old-people kind of tea, but its floral, citrusy taste is very vibrant and lovely. bergamot is also a nice stress reliever, and is also a vv nice cake flavour and idk. the vibes feel very joshua

junhui

jasmine tea. dude, everyone loves jasmine tea, and if you don't, then you're lying to yourself. and that's exactly like how i firmly believe that junhui is nothing except absolutely and utterly loveable. it makes me think of dim sum bc the cleansing taste of it always balances the oily food sooo well

hoshi

tea with lots of cream and sugar. it's almost horrifically sweet, but hoshi drinks it with a straight face and you can't help but wonder if, maybe, it's because the tea is so sugary that it's numbed his taste buds off forever. also he's totally the type to give himself a cream moustache. 

wonwoo

hibiscus tea. the slight cranberry-ish tartness of the taste feels very much like wonwoo for some reason? it makes me think of the shininess of glasses frames, the rough texture of books, and the gentle deepness of his voice. 

woozi

coffee disguised as tea. idk how to explain this bro but jihoon is Not Really a tea-drinking person in my eyes (not enough caffeine in it) but people keep telling him that having 7 coffees a day isn't good for his health so he's started drinking “tea” instead. except it's not actually tea and it's just.  coffee. hidden in his flask. 

minghao

matcha. matcha is lowkey just an aesthetic tea ngl but also?? it's a tea that's basically known for its health benefits bc it's just sooo so healthy and i feel like minghao, as a tea nerd, would love that. also matcha flavoured stuff is vv yum and makes me think of him for some reason

mingyu

masala chai. ive never actually had masala tea before, but i think the combination of richness and warmth and spices of it just suits him very very well. just the vibes of it make me think of mmingyu's undeniable presence and his warm, beautiful, colourful nature

dokyeom

peach tea. fruit teas are definitely more dokyeom’s style bc they're kinda attached to the idea of youth and smiles, cuz children r more likely to have fruit teas. also peach tea is just sooo so sweet and fragrant. especially iced peach tea!! to me, i think that it literally tastes like syrupy sunshine. 

seungkwan

rose tea. it's just such a delicate, floral, aromatic tea with veryyyy good health benefits, and not only does it give me seungkwan vibes, i also think that he'd really like to drink it. also the floating rose buds in tea are so very aesthetic. 

vernon

tea biscuits. i couldn't think of a tea for him help anyone who has anything negative to say about tea biscuits is gonna have to Fight me bc they're actually sooo nice and i can and will finish half a pack of tea biscuits in one sitting if you let me. vernon probably could do that too. 

chan

milk tea. idk man but for me, i think that the unambiguous milky taste of milk teas just make me think of the all-encompassing and reassuring warmth of chan. he's like the pleasant milkiness of the milk tea that stays on your tongue

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @kikohao

[peaterookie]

wOW!! LOOK AT THESE GUYS!!

i made cookie run versions of the lupgang, uh if you dont know, cookie run is a video game franchise about these gingerbread cookies and you should not play it

anyways, time for me to explain for hours about the thought that went in these designs!!!

Lupin III - Cactus Cookie

firstly, yes, cacti can be eaten. for lupin's case i think you'll deadass die if you eat him

the reason i chose cactus for his flavor is because of his incredible persistent to survive in the most dangerous and impossible conditions, much like how cacti dont need a lot to survive in the desert.

i think this may be a reach but i recall a lot of times where lupin is in the desert but idk that bitch can be anywhere bro also hes a prick

I used the green color of the cactus, but cactus cookie can change the color of his cactus coat and the flower tie.

also cacti can sprout flowers! that's very gay of them to do, very lupincore

if you're curious about his eyes, i based it off of strawberry cream cookie's eyes, i think it fits a lot with lupin's googly eyes

Jigen Daisuke - Shiitake Cookie

i think his flavor was the hardest to decipher, but i decided to use shiitake, mainly because another certain mushroom themed cookie uses it as a huge hat...

also, shiitake mushrooms have a rather strong, meaty and earthly taste, which i think fits jigen's strong and gruff personality.

I also added some pepper on the mushroom, which is just, intensifying the strength peppercorn can also be used for bullets !

in addition, shiitake mushrooms are one of the ingredients of sukiyaki, which i think is a rather iconic food for jigen !

Goemon Ishikawa XIII - Soba Cookie

SOBAAAAAA soba is earthly noodle and it looks like the color of goemon's hair, that's literally it sorry i dont have anything else HAHAHAH

nvm i think i have more design notes for goemon some of his design elements are inspired off of rebel cookie, which is based off of a korean classical character hong gildong jeon, who has a very similar story to ishikawa goemon !

also goemon's swords are chopsticks, tehe

Fujiko Mine - Cinnamon Bun Cookie

I wanted to show her deceitful personality through the flavor, and i arrived on cinnamon buns, primarily because cinnamon is a spice that can be very harmful to consume in huge doses, but many people seem to like the cinnamon flavor.

i use the cinnamon flower on her head, like how i put a flower on lupin's head, to kinda show that they have a similar personality and profession

also design inspo

Koichi Zenigata - Macadamia Cookie

the flavor was very easy to decide on. if you don't know, cookie run detective characters are typically nut cookies! (walnut cookie, almond cookie)

so i decided on macadamia nuts, the hardest nuts, because of his stubborn and headstrong personality

other than that, not a lot to comment. if you wonder why there's blue in his designs, i dont really know tbh, i used blue as a color base and i found it pretty on him.

end of post

[onyourhyuck]

The Tattoo Artist. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Since when did i get this tattoo?”

— Summary: Where one late night visit to your shop with a drunk man asking you to do his tattoo turns to an one night stand at your shop.

— Genre: Smut. Dom!mark. One night stand type of trope. Y/n!tattoo artist. Mark loves tattoos. Mention of alcohol use. Sex in a tattoo store. Mark hitting it from behind. Overstimulation. Unprotected sex. Squirting. Ass play. Mark really loves Y/n’s ass. lip ring MARK LEE. Plot twist at the end / Cliff Hanger.

— Notes:

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The night out was Mark’s typical routine. He leaves his apartment block and gets picked up by his two friends who accompany him to go out drinking and partying like every other night. Yuta and Johnny. These two boys are like glued on to Mark’s hips. However tonight it seems like they found themselves ladies and happen to be swooned.

Typical Yuta and Johnny, Mark thought.

They said it’s ‘boy’s night’ yet they always find themselves ladies to get distracted by and Mark was left either third wheeling or led to be alone drinking his single sorrows away.

Honestly Mark prefers it that way, being single. Less hassle to be dealing with relationships and the breakup that comes with it too. Mark can’t be dealing with a girl who complains about his lifestyle choices either. He’s too caught up in the present moment and he’s never thinking about the future. The man is doing what most men in their adulthood years do — drink, party, maybe get high or something along the way.

Then wake up the next day absolutely hungover to the point your memory couldn’t even remember what you ate yesterday. And then try to recount the times you drank last night because you’re grieving how bad the headache is. The cycle continues the following night on the same day. Your friends ask you to go out and Mark accepts because he cannot say no to free drinks.

It’s a struggle. It’s a blessing but a struggle. The idea feels good and then when the happy hours pass Mark feels completely utterly shit.

Mark tells himself ‘I quit drinking. It’s the last time I’m drinking this much’ and then? Contradicted his own statement. He gets drunk, drinks past the limits maybe even more than he drank last time.

Another thing Mark has a hard time saying no to?

Tattoos.

The one thing that Mark cannot say no to other than free alcohol would be tattoos. He already has four on his body and Mark finds them so fascinating. It’s like a way to express himself.

Guilty pleasure would be the best way to describe his relationship with the needing urging to cover all of his body in tattoos. However he knows he cannot do that. At least not unless he has the money to get every part of his body covered in ink.

The man dips the glass of cola and the whiskey he managed to mix together, and then Mark found himself watching his two friends flirt away and dance with the two ladies they found to be attracted to. He can’t believe he’s the one who got asked out by then and now he’s left alone to his own company. These two surely never understand what the bro code is. Mark found himself growing slightly eager so he spiced the drinks concentration up and decided to go for the heavier beverages now.

That night if you asked Mark how much he drank he couldn’t answer you clearly, because he drank a lot more. Mark managed to woo some people himself in the crowd whenever he dances and joins the huddle however the drunk he got the more indescribable feeling of the high notes Mark was feeling began to rub off on him. The man himself wasn’t anymore as sober as he wanted to be this night but, he was still able to walk a little and manage to speak.

You can say he build up the tolerance due to his alcoholic tendencies. Mark isn’t proud of it but he’s definitely grateful otherwise Mark would have passed out by now.

Passed out somewhere on the road, or maybe a bench at a park and slept there all through the night until the morning which is even scarier to Mark. Thankfully though he has a high tolerance and so his awareness was better than most.

The nightclub itself was getting too overwhelming for Mark and he managed to slip out and sent a text to Johnny and Yuta in their following group chat that he’s going to go home.

Or at least Mark said he was, that was until he got tired of waiting and then his eyes pitch on a white paper hung up on those wooden lamp street lights. The cab wasn’t going to get here anytime soon considering the night hours are always filled with other party wild animals that are booking them. Mark’s eyes were now glued tight on that paper with the large letters to him ‘Neo’s tattoo’s!’

He squints his eyes to get a better glance, the alcohol was really getting to his poor eye sight. He’s already half blind as a bat but with the alcohol doing it’s job, it’s safe to say Mark’s sight is equal to his own grandfather now.

But that paper got him intrigued and it spoke one word and one word only to convince Mark: He needs to get a new tattoo.

It might not be the time for that but who’s going to stop him? No one. Not even his friends could do that even if they were here in the moment with him Mark would not be able to budge away from his decision to change his mind. Mark was suddenly overlapping with curiosity and excitement, he wonders what tattoos do you make? And he wonders if your shop is nearby. When he looks back at that poster he checks the address and he realised the street; it’s in the same city he was in. Mark thought it’s destiny. What are the coincidences that the same shop he wants to find and get to is on the same area as the nightclub he was in right now?

Mark doesn’t believe in coincidences so that alone makes him a believer of fate, and fate alone. When the feet take steps forward now walking down the streets that are half empty filled with wind breeze and dusts of leaves panning over the roads, cars passing by especially taxis dropping off other people ready to go on the night out; it takes a long minute of Mark looking from each street to street determined in finding this tattoo shop.

It says the opening hours are until 3am. Mark has at least an hour to spare. He cannot be wasting any longer so Mark was quick on his feet running from direction to another space until,

The same building has appeared in front of him. The same exact place on the sheet of paper he found. Mark takes a quick glance from the paper to the real life building with the signs of neon green ‘NEO’S TATTOOS.’ And he found himself growing warm and excited. Mark drunk out of his mind now though and it seems like this made him even more delusional to think getting a tattoo whilst drunk was a brilliant idea.

“So this is the place?” Mark quips under the breath before reaching the palm on the doorknob opening the door. When entering a small ‘ring ring’ was heard by the bell clinking. It alerts a figure to walk in to greet him.

When the figure approached he looks slightly mesmerised by the young woman ahead of him. You look beautiful, which was a high compliment considering he doesn’t say it to anyone often.

Your eyebrows raise up at the man that looks like trouble and definitely smells like trouble; from one glance you can tell this man was absolutely steaming from head to toe, he was definitely drunk, it was very obvious in his eyes and how he lets them wander around your tattoo store. He saw the chairs, the tattoo sketches and designs hung up on the wall, as well as your equipment in the far back. It looks like you were about to close down but now that he’s arrived you look like you could use an extra customer for tonight. Because he’s not leaving until he gets a tattoo from you.

At this point it’s an addiction, a worse addiction than his love for alcohol. He’s obsessed with them.

You now spoke with a working smile. “What can i do for you? I was just about to close but i guess I can do a small tattoo if you’d want a quick one.” It could definitely help with the extra money so you’re thinking why not.

He comes forward as he sits down nodding. “Great, what do you usually draw? Can I see a sketch book if you have one?”

Your eyes turn to the back as you grab over a thick book full of your sketches and you hand it to him hoping he finds something he takes a liking to. You don’t have much time anyways so he’s going to have to be quick and snappy. Mark flips through pages checking the sketches meanwhile you’re here checking him out from head to toe, it’s not like you wanted to, but you can’t help but notice he has like four other tattoos already.

Mark wore a loose polo-sweatshirt over a white tee. The black hair loosely curled and messy it looks like the wind made it slightly more naturally lifted, it makes him look ten times more boyish in your opinion. The two ears were all pierced with earrings that dangle around it caught your eye the moment he stepped inside your store too, they shine and blind anyone that stares. Adding on the piercings he has, Mark happens to have a lip ring piercing on top of his lips. The right side was pierced and it made him even more attractive and unreal to you. What was happening to you? And who was this drunk guy wanting a tattoo from you?

It looks like he had quite a bit to drink too. It’s not a first time since you had a customer who came asking for a tattoo but it’s definitely a first time when that customer is drunk out of his brain.

But you can’t change that. You can’t even stop your customers if they want something because it’s up to them and their will alone.

Mark lifts his head up trailing as he was watching your sketch book with observant eyes, Mark has a sharp eye attention to detail and your work was truly remarkable. It captures certain emotions.

He looks at you now almost In admiration. “Your work is amazing. I must say I’m impressed with every one.” He then lifts the sketch book up and pints to the two wings that come along from two branch leaves. “But this one looks good. I want this one.” Mark said now as he treads his index finger on it pointing at the sketch picture.

Anyone could tell his words meant a lot to you because you gave him a humble smile but then you grab the sketch book looking at the tattoo. You wonder where he wants it tattooed now.

“Okay I can do this. Where do you want it tattooed?” Your question was heard when Mark laid down at the chair and gets himself comfortable while you grab your equipment. The ink pen was lifted and you push yourself on a red stool chair spinning yourself round to where Mark was laying on the salon chair.

He looks comfortable now on the salon chair and Mark looks over at you now that you got everything and your own tattoo table was prepared with the remaining ink and colours if he wanted any to the tattoo. It’s all up to him.

“I was thinking my neck?” Mark retorts back and you find yourself watching now the Adam’s apple and neck area of his. Your hands that are wearing gloves reach out to rub and feel it as you hum thinking.

You thought maybe it wasn’t a good idea but the tattoo would really compliment him if he had it there. You can’t help but think; Mark has a really good sense of position and where it can look the best. It’s something not many people who you tattooed for have. Mark has a strong sense of attention to detail you feel and you’re right.

“You have a keen eye. Okay I can do it but you’re going to have to be very still.” You warn now sternly and Mark can’t help but look away as you start to stick the sketch on his neck so you can copy the same picture on his skin with the following ink later on. The way you feel his neck tense up while you do this. It’s not even that you’re just too close up and Mark’s drunk mind was doing a lot more than just being patient to get the tattoo done.

Usually Mark was quiet. He doesn’t really speak or make any small conversations with other tattoo artists.

But he has the urge to start one now. Might be the alcohol making him want to speak or something. Or maybe he’s curious about you.

The store was rather quiet and because of the late hours it makes sense why it was so empty and isolated. It was just the two of you in a half dimly lit store with the tattoo artist so close to his neck sketching it with the running tattoo pen that’s now buzzing against his neck sending tiny electric vibrations through his body. It was a rather stingy pain but the pain was what made this all a running fun cycle for Mark, because it was something that he feels and Mark’s addicted to it.

In a way it was because of the process too. Mark just loves to see people be able to draw such a thing on human skin.

The quiet place grew even more dark but the dimly lit fairy lights made this store a little more appealing and refreshing. It felt like you’re so focused you couldn’t see Mark’s eyes on the side watching you. With the corner of his eye Mark saw your concentration mode on. The way your eyes were never blinking or batting an eye away. Your nose long and still, your eyebrows arched forward as you’re bend down over to the neck area tattooing with the ink gun sketching it out. It leaves you in your own thoughts and the man in front of you wonders what you’re thinking of? Silence is a fine tailor and it suits you perfectly because you’re a tailor threading every bit of ink on his beautiful soft neck.

It didn’t help because Mark wasn’t the only one that’s been stunned because he was checking you out. Not sure if it was because of how drunk he was but maybe also considering the closeness between you two.

His eyes were looking down at your cleavage. You wore this white tank top on which leaves certain parts of you exposed. And your beautiful hair tucked into a messy-ish bun. Your appearance was slightly rough but very artistic because you had tattoos yourself around your arm and fingers. They were small tattoos but Mark loved them on you.

He’s always loved tattoos on other people too. He wonders if there’s any meanings for you behind them?

“I notice you have tattoos, what’s the meaning behind them?” Mark now acquired to know because he wishes to get to know you some more and might as well right?

It’s just the two of you alone in your tattoo shop. And Mark was feeling like a chatter box. This might just be because he’s drunk or perhaps he’s curious about you and the silence was killing him.

Your eyebrows rose up as you heard the silence break between the two and you were not expecting him to go suddenly all asking questions on you. He looks like the silent type. Mark usually never really speaks during getting tattoos or anything like that but with you? Mark feels like he has to ask otherwise his curiosity will be killing him all night and he won’t be able to sleep afterwards.

You bring your face back up away from his neck. Your eyes meet his and you watch him waiting for your answer. Honestly you found your meaning to the tattoos not be as interesting to share so you always found it unnecessary to bring out their meaning. Afterall to you it’s just ink on your body and there wasn’t a whole deep thinking process behind it like Mark is thinking of.

In a way the meaning behind your tattoos it’s kinda silly.

“The one on my fingers is a tiny heart matching with my friend who has the other half of the heart.” When you reveal it Mark’s eyes light up. That was cute, you’re matching with a friend.

Mark found himself liking the idea honestly. He always wanted to match a tattoo with someone from his friends but no one wanted a tattoo and he’s the only guy who actually has a tattoos. Mark asked Yuta once but Yuta said he might do it. Though that’s been a year now and it looks like the idea left his friend’s mind.

Mark chuckles. “I’m jealous. I’ve always wanted to match tattoos with someone.” You smirk and raise an eyebrow. “How come you don’t match with anyone?”

Your eyes make eye contact as you ask. Mark trials softly in a slight sarcastic way. “Well I think it’s quite obvious but because none of my friends really like tattoos.”

‘Oh so he can be sarcastic too?’ You find his words to be amusing because they’re all out of a bantering gesture and so you don’t pay much mind to the words and just take it all in. You nod at him chuckling back now as your head leans forward to now tattoo the rest of it.

Your fingers brush along the tattoo bow and you feel like this was all coming along now definitely. The tattoo was done nearly but all you have to do is tidy the edges up and do more polishing, which won’t take a while. The tattoo is pretty simple and clean. And Mark looks amazing with it so far. Your eyes can’t help but shake the feeling that he gets more attractive.

Mark’s voice comes out now again, he asked another question. “So why did you become a tattoo artist?” And you suck in a little breath. He really likes to ask deep questions doesn’t he?

You completely dodge the question by countering it.

“Are you always this talkative with your other tattoo artists?” You point out as you’re trying to concentrate on finishing this up, you really don’t have much time until you gotta close down the shop and everything.

Mark was himself not knowing why he’s so talkative with you because usually he was the quiet type during the tattoo appointments and what not. In a way he doesn’t speak unless the other person was carrying the conversation.

Mark smirks a little. “Only with you actually.”

You scoff not believing that considering how many times he wants to speak to you. You finish the last moments of the tattoo and look back at the handsome man who sits up on the salon chair checking the mirror.

“You like it?” You ask when he’s watching the tattoo in the mirror as you’re trying to read his facial expression for a way to know if he likes the tattoo or if he doesn’t perhaps. You pray that he does because you cannot go back to fix it either.

Mark turns to you now as the mirror in his hand was dropping back down and the upside face he had on turns to a smile.

“Answer my question first and I’ll answer yours if i like it or not.” He now said and you find yourself becoming cornered.

Was he really that into the idea of getting to know you? Not as a tattoo artist only but as a person as well? You’re left here wondering why he’s so curious about you.

Mark’s eyes were deeply staring into you which never leave your face the moment he walked into the store anyways and he found himself completely mesmerised. You look boyish and rough out but he likes how it suits you and your alternative style almost.

He whispers in a taunting gaze on his face. “So what will it be darling?” Mark waits for your reply and you let out a little frown stepping forward closing your gap only a little. There was still a bit of space between the both of you from where he sat and where you stood in front of Mark.

“It’s fine you don’t have to tell me how you feel, i can just read your expression and know you like it very much. I don’t leave my customers unsatisfied anyways.” You now point out smartly but in a very arrogant speaking way and Mark smirks hearing your words. You never leave a customer unsatisfied?

“Well I’m a very unsatisfied customer right now.” He tells you with emphasis on the specific wordings now as he stares into your beautiful eyes.

Well he’s now going to push his luck with you that’s for sure. The flirty expression you’re giving him as him thinking you’re definitely now flirting and giving Mark an opening block to take.

“Oh? Why don’t you show me with what.” Your lips pucker into a little amused grin. “Perhaps I can help you out…”

And he did take the opportunity. He seized the opportunity when you said those words out of your loving mouth as his hands around your waist slither round like a fashionable belt.

Oh how good it felt to be pulled closer by the waist to the drunken stranger you just met and you’re now closing the space when you feel how hot his intoxicated breath feels on top of your nose and cheekbones. You find yourself imagining just how good it must be to kiss Mark and the boy read your mind because the next minute he leans down to capture a kiss together.

You found yourself groaning the minute he kissed you with his belting tongue.

The kiss was a mixture between two beverages; to Mark you’re like wine. You’re strong and you knew what you want from the get-go. And he’s like whiskey unpredictable and intense. Mark defeats your groans with his own as he kissed you with more tugging force than before as his palms on the sides of your face go reach to deepen the kiss making it much more steamy and aggressive.

Groans of your voice muffled as if they were buried by sand underneath it. Your lips gracefully touch between Mark’s sharp teeth grazing at the bottom lip he pulls on it which made you moan as your eyes squint forward.

Saliva connects the both of you which drove Mark over the edge and so did the boner between his pants very much so, he had that for over an hour with you. You’re just too attractive and the closeness earlier had him itching to get his hands on you.

Mark doesn’t usually sleep around with people but when he does it’s always a good time, it has to be someone he finds a connection with and you happen to be one of those very few people.

It wasn’t just because of your attractiveness but also because of how well your conversations bounce back. Mark knew you were a little stubborn because when he lifts you up to switch the position between you both your voice comes out as a groan and it seems like you were playing hard to get knowing your hands were teasing the hem of his boxers under the lower clothing.

“Take them off, darling.” Mark said demanding to you smirking as he feels your fingers play between the boxers now. You look up sheepishly.

You’re enjoying how needy this drunk man was, you can’t even remember if he said his name to you but you enjoy seeing his reactions to your difficult self and your teasing tactics. “What if i refuse?”

You saw how his expression falters into a scared one when you said that you’ll refuse to take off his clothing and he leans closer to kiss your neck, practically whining now.

“Please… Y/n… be good to me.”

‘Oh god he’s whining… that’s hot.’ You can’t help but fall for the idea even more, maybe it doesn’t hurt to continue a little bit more. You tell yourself this but you knew it’s risky. But you’re so tempted to take that risk and continue this. Even if you’re the sober one you’re so swayed by this man in front of you.

The moment you heard his pleading words, only directed to you, it makes your body act on its own and so your lips reconnect with Mark’s and your hands find themselves slipping off his shirt and then the oversized black cargos he wore. The boxers playfully rubbed by your fingertips around made Mark so peevish because you heard the querulous words that are nothing but needy whines to your ears telling you to take them off. Your eyes met his words coming out his mouth as you let your mouths connect into another hungry kiss while slipping your hand into his boxers to feel how harden his wood was and you’re left gasping when Mark grabs your hips and starts to work his way around your own clothing now. You feel your cheeks expand as the kiss goes on and on. Mark was an amazing kisser, you have to admit. He knows exactly how to get you going.

At once your nudity became a blessing to Mark as he feels himself growing even more greedy. Having you look so good and untouched by him was temptation in disguise. You feel your breasts fondled with roughly by a tight and firm squeeze from his hands. The lips around your neck marvel at your glowing skin. The simply stunning eyes of yours close and open at each pleasuring angle when he kissed you even lower than before.

“Please don’t keep me waiting.” You sigh into the air as your head flung back. You don’t want to wait as much as you wanted to anymore.

Your body was just growing to want him.

Mark stood with his furtive body when you said this and the playful eyebrows raise up at you enjoying how vocal you’re becoming. Now look where the table’s turned? You’re the one begging him now. He enjoys it much more than he thought he would so he runs along his hand by your silhouette until they met your hips and he slowly moves them around.

Twisting you around he saw you gandering your face in the behind direction where he stood now towering you leaving no space and your ass rubbing on his erected boner. Mark rubs them between your ass cheeks as his wispy groan reaches your ears. You bite your bottom lip. “Shit… please fuck me already.”

You’re lacking the patience. This man needs to be inside you or else you’re going to have a breakdown.

Mark smirks leaning closer with his nipping voice that cuts you open like scissors across light paper. “I think we should introduce ourselves before you say that don’t you think?”

He was right but now picking a time to introduce yourselves? He knew what he was doing he’s just making you wait a little longer.

Your face diminished and broke down in to a hefty storm. Mark purposely rubs his cock’s tip between your entrance to tease you while waiting for you to start. “Fine…My name is Y/n… what’s yours?” Your voice came off much short because he made your own sound of your voice to differ when the tip rubs the top of your ass.

“Mark… Mark Lee.” He whispers now and he’s satisfied. He gotta know who he is going to fuck after all and he wants you to know what name you’re going to scream all night.

Your leering eyes went down when a prod between your walls now sips on a long thick shaft deeply inside you. Your voice cuts off by a palm on top of your mouth and you’re muffling your sudden jolting voice because of how intensely he has you stretching. You’ve never been this surprised by how thick he was. Mark was making you wistfully begging to have more.

“Oh fuck… please Mark… just fuck my brains out.” You’re not able to calm the storm before anything else you’re just begging the guy you met in your tattoo storm a hour ago to fuck the shit out of you.

It’s so unlike your character, but Mark had you twisted.

He paced forward rutting the hips against your round beautifully shaped ass he couldn’t get enough of, heck, he was so obsessed with it especially when you’re forced into a behind position over the salon chair to get your back blown out by him. It was a sight that made his night more memorable even if he was slightly intoxicated he found himself becoming drunk off you now.

And the paces was so eager and quick your insides feel like you’re being roughly pushed through a moving platform in and out. It feels so good when his length kisses each of your sweet sensitive spots inside and then finds places you never knew someone could reach so deep inside you. It made you even closer because Mark had a hand under your stomach area holding you even closer than before, it’s like this man wants you to be a part of him at this point. He’s a wild animal, and he’s definitely treating you like one because he’s doing exactly as you told him to do: to fuck your brains out.

Colliding with the movements between your two asscheeks Mark follows his eyes down and slams his hands on your beautiful skin giving you spanks with each incoming shift his thrusts make. You feel yourself seeping out your moans and the tattoo store was echoing all your body parts slapping together. You feel him being so deeply inside you that your lower stomach with his hand on felt the imprinting cock in your guts and that your arms were folded forward in a weak lowering form over the salon chair. He keeps fucking you so hard you’re struggling to stand still. He made your legs so weak you found yourself only moaning out to the top of your lungs and Mark had you exactly how he wanted, a mess.

His eyes burned with lust watching over your expression seeing how your eyebrows were fluttering and your eyes were watering with how good and intense he was fucking you from behind, you’re bend over for a customer you just met for the first time and you feel so sheepishly embarrassed but at the same time; why was it such a turn on?

“Is this what you wanted on a Friday night?” Mark whispers dangerously on top of your earlobe as you find a shudder across your spine, Mark’s hands brush alongside your silhouette arching for him, bending for him and only him.

You feel your lips pucker out and the condescending tone Mark spoke with to you makes your stomach flutter. “You’re such a whore Y/n… I bet you’d fuck any of your customers if they got their hands on you.” He threads like a champ he was, because he had you wrapped around his finger.

“N-no… that’s not true.” You said embarrassed because it was definitely easy to tease you in this position and situation.

Mark laughs a little darkly behind and you feel the thrusts increase even more, he was literally ramming inside you and your voice cuts off with a jolting sound. Your body pressed so deeply on the salon chair you feel the metallic parts of the arms stand coldly pressing against your body full of heat.

“I don’t believe that.” He croaks out leaning down to press a kiss against your spine while the lower body of his was jabbing the pleasuring thrusts and the hand down at your stomach holding you moves even lower to touch on your clit.

The nub down below becomes easily swollen with how his fast two middle fingers press and flick it as he’s thrusting you. Your voice became even more loud now because the overstimulated hand on your clit was pleasuring you there but so was his hard cock deeply buried to kiss the top of your womb.

“Pretty whores listen to me, will you be good and do the same?” He now asked you while his hands was abusing your down regional and you grab the salon chair feeling so weak to the pleasure your mind went poof and became blank.

Your hips stutter and so did your legs that resemble jello and it makes Mark smirk. The sight of you pressed in her own store while getting her back blown out by a customer she met, it definitely was something he’s never going to let go off.

“Y-yeah… hhgh I can’t last like this Mark…” You nod your head frantically but the way you’re literally holding on to your last strand because the orgasm was reaching you so quickly.

You’re not going to last much, Mark knows it.

The hand speeds up the movements however, he wants you to finish and see you come undone to the too overlapping pleasures between your hole and your clit getting abused out by him. You firmly shut your eyes.

“Cum darling, you’ve been good so far.” Mark sternly said while he awaits you to reach your end. The world stops for you in that moment.

When he gave you the permission to come undone on his hand and cock at the same time, you found yourself ascending and your head hung low as your body pushed out your liquid down on the ground dripping. You’re soaking if anything. Mark had a proud wide grin on his face now and goes behind to kiss your droopy mouth panting. The lip ring touched your mouth as the kiss was sloppy from behind.

You moan when Mark pulls away from the kiss and his hand leaves your clit alone. Your own orgasm pushed him very close to his own high. He just needs to have a few more thrusts and Mark feels himself becoming done too.

It’s the way your body was making him feel so good too. It’s no doubt your bodies are compatible.

“Hmm… you’re a squirter? That’s so hot.” He jeers at you with both devastated degradation and flirtation behind that tone.

You roll your eyes back in the aftermath of the pleasure. This was probably your first time ever having this much of an orgasm. You don’t remember ever squirting before.

“Fuck…” You whisper under your breath when Mark pulls your hips forward and makes your body stand up straight again because you’re now becoming too weak to even make yourself stand up in this behind position, your orgasm had your legs turning into weak muscles.

Mark whispers now warningly. “Now let me cum yeah? Be good and let me pump you up full of my load.”

You feel your eyes igniting like big red flames at the idea. When Mark starts to thrust again your body starts to break down even more down to the pleasure.

It was all too much but you can tell from how deep he’s reaching you this man won’t be able to last very long. Your walls squeezing him around the shape we’re making it so hard.

Mark was pumping himself until he can feel his cock literally tremble to continue anymore. And you feel the salon chair shake with each rough patching movement against your body rocking it forwards.

The store lets the body slapping between your sweating bodies to continue as you’re in your own world together. Mark had you pulling up against him as he lets your breasts flow with the rough movements of rocking you forward until he has his own orgasm itching at the door.

You feel your heart pace up when you heard Mark groan softly against your back. “Fuck fuck fuck…” and you just knew he was so close now, because his voice felt like a mixture of a whine and a groan.

The silky velvet walls of yours had him begging to pump you full of his cum and have you dripping out only of him. To have you ooze only him out and that’s exactly what he wants.

He wants you full and stuffed of him.

“So… so close, Y/n… fuck…” Mark’s whiny whispers were caught off at the end a little as he takes a deep breath in and within the same moment he kept up the thrusts.

Even if it was so difficult to continue to stimulate himself until he’s reaching his end, Mark finds himself addicted to the way your womb welcomes him. It feels so good, so much he couldn’t shake the feeling of it away.

Mark jerks forward and then suddenly a cry out was heard with Mark burying his head between your nape and shoulder area, he squeezed himself around your walls so deep you feel the load practically injected inside you. You let out a soft groan at the feeling that you’re being held so tight as Mark slips himself inside you even more to fuck a little bit of his own cum in you to ensure it won’t all fall out.

You feel like your body was melting when Mark huffs out a few burning words from his lips. You find yourself stuck with this man all night…

You wonder if he’s going to remember anything in the morning. Or if he won’t?

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The next morning Mark woke up in his bed completely wrecked and exhausted. Unaware of what’s happened last night it’s like deja vu to him.

Whenever he drinks alcohol he cannot remember a single freaking thing and Mark was in the cycle where he’s telling himself off for drinking way too much.

“I should really stop with the alcohol…” Mark equips with disappointment in his voice, he really should stop.

Walking across the room he was shirtless wearing only grey sweatpants and he slowly moves out of his room to see his roommate Donghyuck already up in the kitchen.

They lived together for nearly a year now. Donghyuck was a year younger than Mark but they’re pretty close now.

Although sometimes they fight, they both really feel like they’re close like brothers. Mark with his tired expression and groggy eyes opens the fridge and yawns into his hand.

“You’re up?” Donghyuck smirks as he saw how hungover his friend was, god he always looks like a mess when he goes out with Johnny and Yuta.

Mark hums grabbing the bottle of milk and pours himself a glass. “God you look like shit.” Donghyuck said now with a little laugh.

The boy wanted to roll his eyes and say how nice of you but instead Mark just drank the glass of milk to neutralise hopefully his stomach otherwise he will be having a hard day ahead.

Hungovers are so bad. He just wished he didn’t drink so much last night but he’s always like this. Mark has no self control at all.

What’s worse?

Mark can’t even remember what happened at all last night. He’s just a blank canvas now. Everytime he drinks Mark couldn’t remember anything even if he tried to remember and make himself forced to see what happened last night he just can’t.

So not only was he left feeling utterly crap. Mark was also having a hard time what happened.

“I’m never drinking again.” Mark said with a sigh out once he finally finished drinking the glass of milk. He puts it down in the sink and Donghyuck knows Mark won’t keep to those words.

He wants to tell Mark he needs to stop lying to himself but he doesn’t say anything because his eyes caught on Mark’s neck something.

Donghyuck comes a closer to Mark now with squinting eyes. He recognised something different about him. “Hey Mark did you get a new tattoo last night?”

“What? No…” Mark said with a soft rejection because he certainly doesn’t remember getting one. He slowly moves to his room opening the closet to look in a mirror and when he saw that Donghyuck was actually right…

His eyes widen and he runs his hands over the tattoo that stings a little at the same time, he wonders when did he get this tattoo?

The tattoo was beautiful and it was delicately done. It was two wings crossing together and Mark wonders if he got this done when he was absolutely hammered because if that’s the case, Mark feels so dumb. He can’t even remember the night or anything like that.

Mark whispers in disbelief. “Since when did i get this tattoo?”

He’s a little determined to know who did this work, but he cannot remember anything, the next thing he knew he saw his phone buzz open with messages from late night.

One that came from the contact name: The Tattoo Artist.

The Tattoo Artist: Hey Mark had fun last night. I hope you like your tattoo and you can come by round the shop sometime! :) -Y/n

One thing he knows for sure, he had your number and he now knows your name which rings a bell to him. It’s like his body remembers you but his brain cannot. It’s like he knows you guys did something more than just a tattoo because the text messages says it all.

Mark is definitely meeting you again, to get a new tattoo, or to end up drunk at your store again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter nine pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER NINE: JEALOUSY

previous masterlist next

word count: 4.1k

warnings: minjun is being a stalker, that’s sort of it??

a/n: IM SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG. i’m working + doing an internship at the same time so im exhausted everyday since being an adult SUCKS so i’ve neglected writing (though i have a new idea for a smau lol) and this not that great but i wanted to provide something for you guys </3 jake is down horrendous and not even hiding it now it’s crazy

"PLEASE STOP STARING," Ni-ki whined, throwing an ice cube in Jake's direction who was perched at the counter with a giddy smile. You were on the other side of the store, in the midst of barring out drinks before turning to help your coworker with a unsatisfied customer.

It was different to see you in your element, of course to you it being a mere barista job but Jake couldn't deny how much a leadership position suited you. You were good at quite literally everything, barely paying him mind when he waltzed in 20 minutes ago due to the afternoon rush but seeming calm and collected as you handled the line of drinks that seemed never ending. You looked as pretty as ever in his eyes, your haired pulled up by the clip in your hair and bare skin that seemed to be glowing.

You were called in last minute by a fellow shift as they weren't able to come in due to an emergency. Knowing Ms. Cho would've been the one to cover, something you couldn't bare to make her do as she was meant to take the week off due to spraining her wrist, and not wanting to leave Ni-ki hanging you canceled on the previous study-date you had scheduled with Jake much to his disappointment.

Lo and behold though, said boy decided that he had all the time in the world to wait for you. After you called him on your break, excited that a coworker would be coming in to do the closing tasks, telling him you'd be off at 6:30 instead of 10, Jake stopped by an hour before your shift would end deeming that allowing him to treat you to dinner would make up for the raincheck.

"Bro honestly, I know she's your girlfriend but can't you go sit down at least," Ni-ki's voice breaks his thoughts once more. Jake merely rolled his eyes, waving off the boy who looked exasperated by his presence.

"Yah, whatever. You're just bitter 'cause you’re bitchless," Jake began to tease, watching as the younger boy rolled his eyes and discretely flipped him off without the other customers taking note.

There was a familiar jingle from the door, Ni-ki's eyes looking past him to greet whoever walked in but his face turned into one of visible disgust. Immediately making his way in your direction without a word, Jake curiously turned around with his brows frowned to see what caused such a reaction.

A small scoff left Jake's lips, watching Minjun b-line to where you were behind the bar with Ni-ki glued to your side and staring him down like a guard dog. A small smirk picks at his lips, Jake waiting patiently, watching from afar to see what he planned on saying as you'd be able to handle it yourself.

"___," Minjun spoke, attempting to gain your attention but you merely lifted your gaze for a second as you focused on the drinks you had sequenced. "Can we talk?"

"I'm busy," You said dryly, sending him a pointed look as you were on shift quite literally in the middle of working. "If you need something you can ask my other staff to help you,"

"Are you seriously going to ignore me?"

"Are you seriously showing up to my job when I told you to leave me alone?" You shot back, brow raising in disbelief. "It's harassment, do you want me to call the cops?"

Minjun bit his lip, seemingly collecting his thoughts to carefully piece what he intended to say next. "You're ignoring my texts, how else am I supposed to talk to you?"

"I blocked you," You answer with a small shrug. "I don't want to talk to you. We have no reason to either way, it was your idea to move on with our lives in the first place so I don't see what you need from me now,"

"It was a mistake," Minjun attempts but a loud scoff comes from your end at his words. Feeling yourself grow more and more annoyed, you take a second to collect your thoughts, having to silently remind yourself that there were a handful of other customers that you still needed to be portrayed to in a professional light.

Your eyes flickered to the left, feeling the familiar gaze boring into your side. You met Jake's look, his brows slightly pinched as he held an unreadable expression glancing over Minjun. His arms were crossed against his chest, leaned against the front counter while his head tilted in the smallest of ways meeting your eyes. Silently indicating whether of not you wanted him to intervene, you shook your head, turning over to Ni-ki who was still on gaurd just a step behind you.

"Can you take over for me?" You ask the younger boy, his eyes softening as he glanced down to you with a small nod. Telling Sooyun the same, you leave the two on the floor to handle the customer flow and walk away from Minjun without a word. He attempted to follow along the counter that kept you separated, only to stop short noting how you met Jake at the break that separated the workers and customer side.

"You okay?" Jake asks softly, his hand finding its place in your own as he traced his thumb over your palm in attempt to offer some ease to your mind.

"I don't know why he keeps trying," You mumble out, swallowing the lump in your throat while Jake pursed his lips. You had to admit, no matter how unaffected you attempted to seem, having Minjun back and weaseling his way into your life was slowly opening up old wounds that never fully healed. It felt exhausting seeing his face, much less feeling trapped in your own workplace since that seemed to be his resort to finding you no matter how many hints you've given to leave you be.

"You want me to call the guys and we can jump him out back?" Jake offers, the teasing in his voice caused you to laugh though the glint in his eyes made it hard for you to tell if he was entirely joking. "I could take him on my own but I'm sure Jay wants a few hits at him anyway,"

"So does Ni-ki," You snicker, glancing over to the boy who had his eyes trained on Minjun with a menacing glare. "I don't have the money to bail all seven of you out though so let's not do that,"

A cocky smile fell upon Jake's lips knowing well enough his next words would cause you to grimace. "It's okay baby, I'm rich remember?"

You roll your eyes but couldn't refrain from the small laugh that fell from your lips. "You're annoying," You huff, though the giggle that filtered through your words had Jake smiling from ear to ear. Leaning closer, he's quick to place a kiss to your lips, your eyes widening as you pulled away with a tsk. "I'm on the clock, stop making me look like a bad worker,"

"No one's looking," Jake reassures, not even sparing a glance around the room but he's sure of himself. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you in closer and technically he was right, the large pastry case and stack of boxes that you had yet to be able to put away had blocked a significant amount of view of where you two stood, someone would have had to come around the corner to see you two if they really wanted to.

A clear of someone's throat caused the two of you to pull away from the giddy bubble you were in. Your annoyance flooded back in a second while Jake lazily looked over his shoulder, his eyes lighting up taking note of Minjun who stood with a dark expression.

"What's up man?" Jake smiled, turning as he said so but still keeping one arm draped around your waist though you shifted slightly in your spot. His grip tightened feeling how you attempted to move, squeezing your hip as a silent way to tell you to stay in place at his side. "You need something?"

"Can you give us a minute?" Minjun's words were short and clipped, the visible annoyance dripping from his persona.

"Don't think so," He hummed with the click of his tongue. "M'names Jake," Holding out his hand with a cheeky smile, Jake waited for Minjun to introduce himself. You had to refrain from the laugh that wanted to spill from your lips, the obviously annoying but polite tactic one you wouldn't have guessed he'd play but it seemed to work better than being possessive or immediately hostile.

"Minjun," Was all he replied with, not bothering to complete the handshake Jake intended. Turning his gaze to you, he near pleaded in a softer tone. "Can we just talk?"

Jake let out a loud sigh, dropping his hand with the shake of his head. "You know, man, I wouldn't have held nothing against you but you're really making my girl uncomfortable," His previous bubbly expression was gone, now replaced with a bored one that shamelessly glanced over Minjun. "You know me personally, I don't go for girls I broke up with, especially after she told me to leave her alone and she has a new man. That's just me though,"

"No offense man, but I know you two just got together. Your new relationship doesn't compare to us," Minjun shrugs while you let out a laugh of disbelief. You and Jake were more comfortable together, by miles, in a short amount of time even if your relationship was based on a facade. After the first two months with Minjun, it felt as though you were walking on eggshells everyday to keep him around, a feeling you remember all too well and ridicule yourself for staying in for so long.

"I mean, you're the ex for a reason right? Our relationship s’not supposed to be like yours," Jake shrugs, a humorless laugh left his lips.

"You guys don't even make sense together!" Minjun was now speaking to you, gesturing between you both with an exasperated expression. "His life is completely different from yours and you know it, why waste time now when it won't even work out,"

You frowned yours brows, not knowing how much he had looked into Jake but either way, being so ambient on your differences seemed to rub you the wrong way. What exactly was he entailing? The fact that Jake was a party guy or he was rich? You grew up attached to the hip with Jay, sure you weren't directly apart of that life but you did know how to act with a cocktail dress and dinning etiquette when you needed to. You truly lacked nothing if the relationship was real and so far, Jake didn't either.

"It's cute to know you've been thinking about me," Before you were able to voice your thoughts, Jake beat you to it. His tone was teasing, though there was a slight edge to it indicating that the cat and mouse play going back and forth was something he began to grow tired of. His had squeezed your hip, somehow subconsciously knowing that your agitation grew as well, it a silent reminder that he was there for you.

Minjun scoffed, seemingly ready to retort but Jake shook his head. "You know, I don't really like being a dick and all," He starts, a small huff of air leaving his lips as if it pained him to continue. Jake's eyes flickered to you, he winked before the bored look was sent back toward Minjun. "But I do take advantage of the benefits that come from my family. Let's just make it easier on all of us since getting the lawyers involved is always so messy, yeah?"

Your eyes widened slightly, certainly not having any thought of any legal precedent but the threat should've been more than enough to get his point across. You felt a shiver run up your spine, thinking back to weeks ago when you got yourself into the situation you were now. She totally would've sued me.

There was a clear of the throat that broke the tension between you three. Ni-ki making his presence known as he sends Minjun a rather large, but most obviously fake, smile.

"I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave since I've had a few customer complaints from the situation that's occurring," He says in his peppy customer service voice, the faux sympathy in his tone adding salt to the wound. Looking around, you take note of the lie considering the lobby had cleared out significantly and not a single person in sight was paying any mind to what was occurring in the corner but you were certainly thankful for the deescalation.

Minjun doesn't say a word. His eyes lock with yours, the silent communication causing you to feel uneasy. For a split second, you almost felt bad for him seeing the look of pleading sincerity, for a second he seemed like the boy you once knew and you couldn't deny the slight tug in your heart that longed for the past. But as Jakes’ hand made its presences know on your back, you shook out of the temporary daze, you subtly moved behind him, using Jake as a shield of sorts and looking away.

You weren't naive enough to fall for that. And your thoughts proved right as Minjun's expression changed in an instant, the look of anger and annoyance familiar but he merely turned and made his way out of the shop without hesitation.

The bitter feeling caused your stomach to turn, picking at the skin of your fingers as you pulled out your phone to check the time.

"You okay noona?" Ni-ki carefully asked, His brows were pinched, a slight frown at his lips taking note of your visibly discomfort.

You nod, placing a smile on your features but it didn't quite reach your eyes. You looked behind him, seeing Sooyun working by herself. "I'm alright, I need to finish my pull before Hejin comes in so support where you can for now," You delegate, already heading toward the back room while footsteps followed soon after.

Jake sighed watching you walk away. He didn't know the full story, certainly didn't want to know the details of how in love you were, but he did know that Minjun was important enough to still bother you after some time apart. A small part of him was selfish, never wanting you to think of anyone like that but him, even though your relationship wasn't even real in the first place, but he knew that was his own jealousy.

The larger part of him felt upset for you though, the crestfallen expression you held more than enough for him to want to hold you and wash all your worries away. In a perfect world, Jake would make sure you'd never feel sad again. He vows to never be the one responsible for your tears, and if he were he'd kick himself and beg for the room in your heart to forgive him.

You stopped by the back freezer, facing the stainless steel doors and you could see Jake's reflection behind you. "I'm alright," You repeat, not having the confidence to turn around knowing your eyes were glossing over and the lump in your throat grew.

Jake hummed, watching you from afar. He watched as you began to count the frozen pastries, having to go over twice losing your train of thought and seemingly looking around aimlessly. You let out a sigh, leaning your head against the frozen rack as you shut your eyes, the cold air that wrapped around your body caused goosebumps to form along your arms, though it did well in stopping the tears that were built up to the brim.

"You know, you're technically not supposed to be back here," You mumble, a hint of amusement in your words though you were rather dejected.

Jake chuckled, shaking his head while you couldn't see it. The two of you stood in silence, not knowing what to say that would make it better. Heavy footsteps sounded as someone entered the back of the house, you peaking from behind the freezer door while Jake straightened up.

Hejin pointed a finger at you as she pulled her apron over her head. Your brows frowned, clicking on the tablet that was stuck to the door to see it only be 5:50. Her keys jangled in her pocket, the lollipop in her mouth muffling her words. "Go home,"

"What?" You let out a small laugh, amused by the loud groan she let out upon her apron getting stuck while pulling it down. "It's not 6:30,"

"I'm here now so go," Hejin huffs, pulling at her ponytail as she nods towards Jake, a silent acknowledgment to his presence but not bothering to ask why he was beside you. "I saw creeps-a-lot in the parking lot. The kid and Sooyun were blowing up my phone to get me here so I chased him away. Go home and relax, I'll make a incident report to let everyone and Mama Cho know to not talk about you and refuse him service from now on,"

Your lips pull into a frown, the tears once again welding up in your eyes. You covered your face out of embarrassment, Hejin clicking her tongue as she waved you off.

"Ay, don't cry," She tuts. "He's not worth it, new boyfriend hug her!" Hejin directs, gesturing between you and Jake causing you to let out a laugh. Jake tilted his head, his arms open as you reluctantly stepped into his embrace. You refused to look at him directly, hiding behind your hands though you could see the fondness in his expression as he stared down at you. "Good, now get out of here. Pretty girls should never cry over ugly men,"

With that, Hejin was out onto the floor. You stifled your laughter, heart pulling at the thought of your work family. She, in particular, was known to be rough around the edges, not one to show praise or direct affection but small acts like these were truly the most meaningful. You made a mental note to treat them in the future, thankful for the saving grace.

Jake pulled away from the hug slight, a small smile perking at his lips as he tilted his head. He gently pulled away your hands from your face, wiping away the few stray tears with the same fond look.

"You know, I don't know how to feel about you crying over another man," He teased causing you to roll your eyes. "Guess I have a lot of work to do to make you forgive him,"

"Forgive?" You echo, raising a brow not following his words.

Jake nods. "You know, for being an idiot but at least it allowed for me and you which is like, a million times better," He says in the most obvious voice causing you to snicker. "Forgive but not forget, or whatever it is that people say,"

"Have you been looking at pinterest quotes?" You laugh while Jake begins to nod wholeheartedly.

"You put me on, it's honestly so chill scrolling. I have like, five different boards I've made so far,"

"Rookie numbers," You tease causing him to mock offense.

"They all have certain aesthetics and are listed in order," He offers causing you to hum.

You nod in approval. "Better,"

Noting that your mood had seem to raise, Jake leans in, placing a small peck to the tip of your nose causing you to let out a small squeal. Your face scrunches up, pulling away from him while he lets out a laugh.

"C'mon, you owe me your time and I think I have the perfect idea to get your pretty little mind off everything,"

"YOU’RE JOKING?"

"What?"

You sent Jake a pointed look, smiling down at the excited animal that jumped into your arms, licking the skin of your cheek while your heart nearly bursted at the sight of her tail wagging so happily. "We've been faking it for over a month and you decided to just tell me you had a dog?"

"Her name's Layla," He laughs, crouching down to the level which you were sat on the floor. As soon as you walked into the door of the unfamiliar apartment, you were greeted by soft paws jumping at your leg along with excited barks for attention. "This is my brother's place, she's a family dog but he has her most of the time since my parents are always out of town. He's on a trip with his friends so he asked me to watch her for the week," Jake cooed as he pet Laylas fur, eyes full of affection and love as she leaned into his touch.

“I’ll watch her for the week,” You smile, gaining her attention once more as you scratched at the spot just behind Laylas’ ears. Her eyes shut as you did so, a small giggle leaving your lips as the dog visibly relaxed to your petting. “I’ll keep her company while you party or whatever you do in that frat house,”

Jake rolled his eyes, his view set on you but you were far too focused on Layla to care. “I haven’t gone to a party in weeks, and if I do you’re with me,” He says pointedly as you merely hum.

“Exactly, you can go do what you want. I’ll stay here with the cutest little puppy I’ve ever seen,” The latter half of your sentence was spoken in a high voice, cooing at Layla who seemed to be happily responsive to it.

Though he liked seeing how well you got along with his childhood pet, Jake tsked. Maybe it was a bad idea bringing you to see her, all of your attention would go to the little border collie instead of him which, admittedly, he couldn’t have.

“What I want,” Jake starts, leaning over to flood your view. “Is for you to not love my dog more than me,” He finished, dangerous close to your lips as you blinked, a small snort leaving your lips.

“Well for one, I barely tolerate you so Layla wins by a long shot,” You tease causing his lips to pout. Lightly pushing Jake away, he ends up sitting directly in front of you, Layla happily pouncing into his lap but still begging for you to provide her with scratches as she rolled over onto her back to expose her stomach. “And two, you can’t be jealous over your own dog. She’s just too cute,”

Jake sighed half heartedly. “You kicking me to the curb now for my dog?”

“Precisely,” You nod, a wide grin playing at your lips that you were unable to resist. It was still between the two of you for a moment, Jake taking the silence to gently place Layla down onto the ground beside you. You rose a brow, noting how he inched closer causing you to move back. “Hey~”

His arms were suddenly thrown around your body, one around your waist while the other was behind your head, blocking the impact of him suddenly tackling you to the hardwood floor. Your laughter filled the air, arms stuck under the weight of his chest and your faces inches apart.

“Too bad, you’re not allowed to get rid of me,” Jake huffs though there was an amused smile playing at his lips. “Say you like me more,”

You gaped in disbelief. “Are you serious?” The response to your question ended up with Jake’s fingers dancing along the skin of your waist, your shirt riding up and him knowing how ticklish you were as you began to squirm beneath him. “H-hey! Okay, s-stop—”

“Say it,” Jake taunts, his laughter mixing with yours.

“O-okay—”

Layla’s loud barks suddenly broke the air before the view of her jumping onto Jake’s head was seen. Your laughs were now from seeing how he yelped at the sudden help you received, rolling off of your body and with Layla still attacking his face with an abundance of kisses, you sat up. Now straddling Jake’s waist, you returned the favor of poking your fingers into his side, moving until you found a spot by his ribs that caused him to squirm around.

“Hey! You can’t team up against me,” Jake called out, unable to move either of you due to the way you sat and how Layla was now perched on his chest to get a better angle of sloppy kisses that he attempted to block. “She’s trying to lick my nose! Baby please—”

“What? I’m giving you attention like you wanted,”

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi @coolwitu @simjyunnie @kgneptun @graythecoffeebean @143ikeu @zyvlxqht @tesywesy @nxzz-skz @aishisgrey @enczen @vanvity @dreamiestay @caitysdelusions @ikkeumyluv @v3lv3tsin

[sugawhaaa]

☆ Thinking of Gaon as your boyfriend ☆

🧸Fluff head canons🧸

Gaon's love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation. I think he would also do acts of service but that would be more when you're feeling under the weather or sick.

At first he'd be nervous to ask for things even just cuddling but after dating for a while you would get cuddle attacks when he gets home after a long day.

He'd be a great listener, he'd just let you rant to him about anything really and he would either just listen or talk just as much.

As for the types of dates you'd go on he'd so do things like take you to the movies, get ice cream, coffee dates you know all very romantic stuff

Also I feel like he'd be the type of boyfriend to give you a little stuffed bear for your anniversary or Valentines day 🤧

When cuddling in bed Gaon would do things like play with your hair softly or hum until you fall asleep. I think he'd also rub your arm, or back a lot

When on your period he'd be the sweetest thing ever, getting you whatever you want when you want it as fast as possible. No questions asked.

Making breakfast together would be a common thing and usually becomes a kissing/cuddling session which results in burnt breakfast but it's just so worth it.

He loves movie night with the members because he steals a blanket for you and him so he can give you all of his attention instead of the movie.

Jiseok would also love to play songs for you on his guitar and would learn songs you love just to see your smile and get praised for his amazing talent.

As for the names he'd call you he'd come up with a Nickname for you but also use my love, baby, my angel etc

Bro would brag to the members about you all the time, talking about how much you love each other and rant about your dates

But when you're around he doesn't talk about you at all and when the other members bring it up Gaon refuses to admit it's true.

Playing with hair is a big thing in your relationship, he'd make you sit between his legs just to play with your hair and you'd do the same for him, often styling it in pigtails or little braids.

Stealing his hoodies/shirts would be such a blessing to him.

Seeing you wearing his shirt all baggy and nearly to your knees and covering your shorts just melts his heart.

Also giving you compliments when you might be feeling insecure is his number one goal as your Boyfriend

When wearing a bathing suit around him he'd notice your insecurity and would shower you in compliments.

♡Scenario ♡

"Want to go to the movies this weekend? I heard the new Mario movie is really good," Gaon said as he wrapped his arms around you and a cozy blanket. His hand then moved up to your head to pet your head and play with your hair.

"That sounds nice," you said half asleep with your eyes closed. Jiseok chuckled and just let you snuggle up in his arms as the campfire sounds played in the background from the TV. When Gaon realizes your asleep he'll take a picture of you, then take a selfie of the two of you and add it to his folder of photos of you <3

💫Spice head canons💫

Gaon is 100% a switch and no one can change my mind

He'd probably be extremely vocal as a bottom and probably as top honestly. Moans, grunts, whines, whimpers, begging everything Jiseok's got it.

He'd be pretty comfortable being sexual anywhere but he'd prefer to be at home.

He would definitely be the type of boyfriend that just wants to completely pleasure you. He'd get pleasure from pleasuring you.

I think Gaon would be a big fan of fingering honestly and he would KEEP HIS RINGS ON! Which is just 🤌 to me

If you were ever trying to muffle your moans or try to be quieter he would immediately tell you not to or else he would just stop what he's doing completely to punish you.

I don't think he'd be an aggressive dom. He'd be soft for the most part but if he happened to be more of a hard dom if you told him to stop he would INSTANTLY no questions asked.

I feel like giving oral would also be a skill of his and he'd love to tease you with it.

He'd also do little seductive things around the other members to see how'd you and them would react.

As a bottom he'd be a little brat, constantly whining and begging for what he wants but once you give it to him your ears would be blessed.

I think he'd also be into grabbing your hair, not to pull on it per se but just to grab it.

Praising you would be consistent too saying things like "You're so good to me,"

I don't think he'd be too interested in using names like "mommy" or "daddy" but if it made you happy he would happily call you mommy

As a top he'd just love to hear you say his name over and over and pull his hair.

As I mentioned earlier he gets pleasure from pleasuring you so if you don't cum well enough or moan loud enough you better be prepared for a round two.

And after you do cum well enough or moan enough he would praise the shit out of you.

I don't think he'd be into using toys, he would rather just use himself to satisfy you but if you wanted him to use something he would.

He would also leave marks everywhere on you, thighs, neck, arms, hips, waist, chest, shoulders like there is no way in hell your going to be able to cover every mark

Sending rather risky texts is also a habit of his when he's working but that was just his way of teasing the crap out of you to get you more riled up

You riding his thigh just makes him so hard. Like even just you asking to get off on his thigh would turn him on and when he sees a dark patch on his thigh he would just melt in satisfaction.

Lingerie would turn him on so much but after that it'd be discarded on the floor so there's not much sense in buying Lingerie just to turn him on.

~Scenario~

"Louder," Gaon demanded as he repeatedly hit that sweet spot inside you with his nimble fingers. You basically yelled his name and he smirked in satisfaction. He started to pick up the pace as his fingers went deeper inside you than you could ever imagine making you see stars. "There, there!" You begged him to keep going and he did as you asked. Your whole body tensed up and jerked at his every touch. You pulled his hair hard making him groan lowly.

"Jiseok, I think I'm gonna," you couldn't even get in a whole sentence without moaning or whimpering.

"It's okay, just cum on my hands," and just as he finished saying that you did just that. That would've been your third orgasmn on just his fingers. He slowly continued pumping his fingers in and out of you before pulling them out. He observed the liquid that coated 4 of his fingers. He put his fingers together before pulling them apart again watching your arousal string his fingers together. He then put his fingers in his mouth and began sucking on them, moaning. After he had licked his fingers clean which turned you on for the 100th time tonight he said "so good"

•°○ after care○°•

Gaon would turn into such a sweetheart after sex

Tending to any areas that might have been hurt and making sure he didn't bite too hard/much

He would say over and over again "you did so good," or "your amazing baby"

He would ask if you wanted a bath and if you said yes he would prepare it immediately and get you new pajamas for the night, slippers, nice warm towel, a book anything you needed.

If you said no to the bath he'd ask to cuddle you and you'd fall asleep in his arms

The next day your hips were sure to be bruised and he'd sincerely apologize and you'd have to keep saying "it's okay" or "it's fine it was amazing last night"

He'd also casually cover up all of his millions of markings he left on you.

♤Scenario♤

"I love you so much," Gaon said softly as you snuggled into his arms. His fingers played with your hair and he kissed your forehead. "Would you like a bath my love?" He said looking down at you with sweet doe eyes.

"Yes please," you smiled at him. He got up and gave you his shirt to wear until he finished getting your bath ready. You sat there just remembering what had just happened. That was until Gaon came into the room.

"Your baths ready," he grinned widely. You went into the bathroom and found your phone, and a book on the side of the tub. Your house coat and fresh pajamas were hung up and the water had some bubble bath soap in it. You hugged Gaon and thanked him.

A/N: I will be doing this for every member! It will be posted in order of like my biases so Gaon is first obviously and then it'll be Junhan and Gunil etc

Thank you for reading!!!♡♡♡

[ethical-cain-vinnel]

okay yall this is my first post so i apologize for the wonky formatting anywho this is what i think each Rory Culkin character would smell like inspired by a post from @icarus-star . (some characters do have x reader because thats all i read sorry not sorry🤭)

CHARLIE WALKER

okay so this dude is a loser (in the best way)

and losers love axe body spray

i think he always smells like he used an entire bottle of axe body spray each morning with a hint of old spice deodorant if hes feelin good

the real reason he uses so much i think though, is cause hes killed so much that he smells like blood no matter how many showers he takes

so his friends will tease him for it but he'll never stop using it

CHRIS KENTON

i think hes pretty aware of smells and is worried that he smells bad but he doesnt have a ton of money to spend

SO his solution is cheap cologne

dont get me wrong though, it smells nice. even comforting at times

sometimes he also smells like coffee (no reason as to why i think this, its just the vibe)

CLAY ROACH

ooooofff i love him but he STINKS

he smells like body odor, sweat, and sometimes other bodily fluids (ifykyk)

i think if/when he gets clean from all the drugs he does, he more so just smells like whatever deodorant he uses but its a very small hint of it

CLYDE

RAHHHHH I LOVE HIM

he uses sandalwood bodywash and matching shampoo and conditioner

but he also smells like weed

he smells heavenlyyyyyy

his deodorant is lavender old spice i take no criticism on this

DANNY COOPER

yall this man is a housewife

i dont think he really cared much about smelling good until he met you

now me PERSONALLY, i hate the smell of a lot of vanilla perfumes and stuff but he does smell like vanilla

but instead of vanilla perfumes, he smells like vanilla extract

or if he knows you guys will have a date that night, he ups his game and goes in with coconut coffee smelling stuff

EURONYMOUS

HE SMELLS SO BAD OMFG

this man smells like shit, piss, greasy hair, weed, alcohol, cigarettes, and every other BAD THING IN THIS WORLD

dont get me wrong babes i love rory's portrayal of him but LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME IM WRONG!!! YOU FUCKING CANT

bro does NOT wash his ass😭😭😭

GABRIEL

i think he doesnt really smell like anything honestly

sometimes hell put on cologne but usually he just smells like soap

if you have a signature perfume or cologne though, hell douse his clothes in it because it brings him comfort (AHHHH I LOVE HIM SM)

JACK THURLOW

this man right here🤭🤭🤭 i love this man

he is so stuck up and prissy i love it

he smells sophisticated

he smells like a mixture of cigarettes, bergamot, patchouli, and sweet amber

and then he pretends its what he naturally smells like and gets mad when other people dont smell as good as him

KAPPA

at first i was going to say he smells pretty similar to euro but i started thinking about it more and i have come to the conclusion that this is not correct and heres why

hes a cult leader. charming, handsome, manipulative, and welcoming

he has to show that hes the best of the best and one way he does that is by smelling good

he smells comforting. like a warm, home cooked meal that you havent had since you were a kid

and this makes people feel more relaxed and comfortable around him which he uses to his advantage

thats it for now i hope yall liked it!

[yourdoseofapple]

I think there should be a building game show for Minecraft. Like Lego Masters, most cooking shows, etc. Like listen. I think fighting is cool and all, and I myself was raised on watching bed wars and Minecraft hunger games and all that, but like also… builder are insane? Like I love watching, Empires, Hermitcraft, other big builders (and redstoners for that matter) because I’m so fascinated by how their brains work???? Like you’re telling me Bdubs took some dirt and made a literal mountain as a BACKDROP for his build in a season??????? Bro????? Like I want some builders to go head to head in a building challenge.

Like, okay hear me out, each week their “building themes” could go from mimicking IRL architecture styles - medieval, French colonial, minimalism, etc - OR could rely on game mechanics. Like you gotta make a build, but it must include five red stone functions - could be as simple of auto lighting and stuff - all the way to farms included into the make of the build!

Judging wise, I think that would be the hardest thing to pin down, because the issue with Minecraft building is that there are a lot of factors when it comes to the concept of building because every builder has an inherent “style” they have and so to compare isn’t necessarily fair???? Because what one person likes may not be the same as another person, so I don’t believe you can judge inherently on how a build looks, but more so if it fits the criteria - did you do your research and keep to the prompt 100% or did you take some liberties in the favor of making it seem stylistically “better” - also, while I am inclined to be like “hey look we could have it audience choice” I am aware that in previous Minecraft events - every tournament event live-streamed like ever - every YouTuber is gonna have bias on their side, and if there is someone with a larger viewership that others, there is of course going to be favor towards them. The ONLY way I could see this being different is if it was all pre-recorded and episodic, but I still believe there would be a heavy amount of bias if someone was on the show with more viewership than others. We would want it to be fair. I do think audience participation is important though, and should be a major inclusion! Like, before an event is to occur I think it would be fun to choose the prompt of what they’re building that week, but the contenders just can’t tweet/say/promote one they wish to do, so it is STRICTLY up to the audience without bias.

Also, I think everyone should come out a winner, not in the “No one came out on top because we are all equal” way - because while that is important it is still a tournament, and as we’ve seen in literally every competition show ever there is always a first place winner - but more so in the, while you didn’t win, let’s reflect on how you are still fantastic and getting something out of this. I know it sounds a little basic, so I do think it would need to be extrapolated on. But I wouldn’t want anyone who “loses” to just go away with “you got clout” award. You were featured on the show, that’s inherent, you deserve more than that, again this can be fleshed out later, but they deserve more too, somehow.

Also for the finalists - I’m thinking either 3 left or 2 left - it should be a mega build level prompt. Could be something like “build a city!” Or just “build a mega base with x block being the main block” and, again, not sure how it would be judged, but winner comes out, with second/third place having some reward as well, not as good, but still considerably great. I also think it would be fun to have prior contestants come on and have to participate in the “here is your block that I got to choose for you” to add some spice to it. IDK what the prize would be, I know it is normally money, and while it could be that, I think it would be more fun to have something a little different that would still be fun and a true “winners” item. Again, not sure what it could be, but it would need to hold to the truth of “oh, hey, this is a true prize and its still fun and I’m getting something out of this!”

Anyhow, enjoy the strange thoughts of my brain and if any streamers/youtubers are out there reading this, lemme know what you think cuz I’m curious. Do I think I could ever do this? Probably not cuz I’m an opera singer doing my masters so time is bet a dream to me at this point, but like. I think it is interesting and would love opinions on it just from the standpoint of discussion. I streamed at one point, maybe I’ll start back up again one day if only to have fun. I feel like that should be what it is, fun, that is the most important thing at the end of the day and builders should have some competitive fun too!

Also, I will admit that I am obviously not knowledgeable on everything - again opera singers not full time Minecraft anything - so I don’t know if something like this has been done before, and while I think it would be cool if something like this existed, it may already exist and I quite simply don’t know! Thoughts, opinions, anything else?

Anyway, if anything, have a good day!

[weird-bookworm]

LET'S SPREAD SOME LOVE!!!!!

talk about your favourite mutuals and why you like them

😄

oh god this is gonna be one hell of an answer

@fairyhaos because shes the sweetest comfiest most adorably chaotic lil ball of energy + she gives the best advice like hello??? what are you??? oh god my heart goes a little off track everytime we talk i just love you so much

@wheeboo okay shes part 2 of the they-make-me-feel-the-safest trio along w yena and axe like please i stumbled across the sweetest sassiest boo stan ever ALSO UR GORGEOUS???

@blue-jisungs axeaxeaxeaxeaxe so chaotically lovely and so boomer and so fun and yoid think shes savage but no shes just soft and as harmful as a pinecone (why do u remind me of tht one joon meme of him just. sitting there. peeling potatoes. in tiny.)

@slytherinshua we kinda talked less for a while bc life happened and then caught up (kinda lol) and im so glad to see shes still as crazy and lovable as ever (im waiting for tht ppt) like talk abt impressive. impressive is her whole personality. sometimes in, uh, less than conventional ways...hehe

@eternalgyu HANNIE WHERE TF R U I MISS UUUUUUUU 😭😭😭😭🫶🏻 like yk what i imagine when i think of hannie? causing mischief. LIKE IDEK WHY OKAY i just feel like we'd be running around giggling like idiots js pulling random pranks on people and js the thought makes me smile

@yllouhannie ylli is like love. ylli is gentle and kind and sweet. shes understanding and passionate and really quite cute. oh my love you make me wanna jump off a cliff because how can someone like you exist 😭 (no srsly what is this witchcraft ilysm mwah)

@woozvc nora is like home. which is saying a lot lmao i sound dramatic but like yk when u just talk to someone and it feels just right even tho ur not rly doing much? shes older but she lets go and i can just feel how absolutely beautiful this person is *melts off a cliff*

@welcometomyoasis shu oh shu i have no words so pardon if this is a little small but. ik i say this a lot but i rly do mean it. i love you. so much. yr msgs and reblogs and asks always make a smile and they make me giddy and suddenly nothing is wrong with the world 🥺

@haecien bro is my ultimate gay bestie like what else do you need in life other than cien. what. nothing is the answer. life is complete when u hv cien and his shenanigans lolol like i dare you try to Not like him. i m p o s s i b l e.

@glosskirt AYYYYY MY ARMY SOULMATE we connected over min yoongi. we still rant over min yoongi. we shall die talking about min yoongi. like there is nothing better than having someone to fangirl with over my favs gloss you filled a hole in my life <3

@mesanthropi weiwei!!!! my little bundle of sugar spice and everything nice!! (+ chaos and a passion about the randomest shit ever how do u live why am i not this exciting) how is it always fun to talk to you and why do ur msgs excite me so much

@aaniag chaos. thats it. chaos. this woman brought with her about half a dozen more desi moots for me like how do i hug you how do i appreciate you enough i ugghhhh 😩

@thepoopdokyeomtouched im still waiting for my flirting yk? lol on a serious note, u and ur crazy streak r probably the most entertaining thing on here, and i fucking love it. i love ur chaos and the fact tht u choose to share it w me, thank you 🫶🏻

@arafilez bro rly dropped outta thin air like a fucking ghost and made my life abt a 100x more exciting where were you my entire life ara. where. why didnt the atz rants and the writing and the random asks show up sooner. why.

@nonononranghaee HAFS MY LIL CUTIE PATOOTIE WHY DO I ALWAYS WANNA SQUISH U NOMNOM U CRUSH U KSKSJEHEH u give me so much cuteness aggression oh my god...

@kkooongie sarah sarah sarah sarah sarah i live for ur writing and im always looking forward to our little chats abt books and random stuff (...when r u updating btw 😅)

@maeleelee @mxnsxngie @imagine-a-life-like-this i don't tell you guys enough how much i love and appreciate each one of you. i dont tell u enough how grateful i am whenever i think abt u bc god ik how hard it is to take in a random person in ur circle, to adjust w a kid, to make said kid feel safe and included and loved. so thank you. for all that you do for me and for loving lil ol' me <3

@cadenonlinelive where u at damn i hvnt seen u in ages

@rubywonu @idubiluv GUYS STOP HIBERNATING ITS NOT WINTER ANYMORE I MISS U

[icarus-star]

Hi its uhm me, could I please just have some FLUFF for Charlie. As an asexual I'm crying. No fluff of this man, please fix

Lots of love- Roran

fluffy relationship headcanons for charlie walker :3

a/n: tysm for the request, roran!! i 100% agree with you on there not being enough fluff for him, he's so squeezable. also, big warning for super ooc headcanons :P

he absolutely loves physical touch!!

he'll always be holding your hand when your out somewhere together, but still too shy for anything more than that

he likes taking you to the movie theater, even if there arent any scary movies he wants to see

he goes just because he likes being there, it's his favorite place (and because he goes so often, he ain't got money for anything else lmfao 💔)

like, imagine deciding to go see the barbie movie bc there isn't really anything that he finds worth seeing,,, then some hours later y'all are leaving the theater n he's trying to act like he didn't like it

if you do see a movie together that neither of you end up liking, he'll whisper to you n try to get a couple sneaky kisses :3

and then y'all will bail on watching the movie and sit in his car in the parking lot contemplating why you decided to even see such a boring film

also movie nights at his house!!

sitting on his bed together, cuddled up underneath a blanket with some snacks n a movie playing on his laptop or something like that

he. really seems like a hot chocolate enjoyer, always has some on hand no matter what

more specifically, pumpkin spice flavored hot chocolate (please try it if you ever get the chance, it's so good)

he's a big halloween fan in general, cause of the horror movies and the entire idea of it. so anything reminiscent of autumn makes him happy

candy corn eater.

omg, when you two are alone, he will NOT take his hands off you!!

always trying to cuddle or kiss you, no matter what your doing

you could be working on something super important for school or whatever, and he would just be there, scooping you into his lap and resting his chin on your shoulder

bro does not care about being the big spoon or little spoon, just wants to be able to feel you

and either way, if you end up falling asleep, your just gonna be each other's blankets by the time you wakeup 🤷‍♂️

your limbs are legit knotted together

also, if your the type to get even a little scared after watching a horror movie, he will hug you so close n tight and let you know that nothings gonna happen and all that and it's so sweet 😭💕

he loooves when you run your fingers through his hair, especially if you let him lay his head on your thighs or chest

it makes him feel so comfy and safe

weezer is his top played artist on Spotify, i will never change my opinion on that. he's literally weezers number one fan

but probably also anything that would classify him as an absolute loser <3 (because he is)

sorry, but he probably reeks of axe body spray and red bulls 😖

but he's def the type to dance around with you to whatever music and just mess around together!!

a/n: im not good with writing fluff yet 😔 hope this was good <3