#one more chance/stay with me remix

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[madamshogunassassin]

One More Chance / Stay With Me (Remix) - The Notorious B.I.G. feat. Faith Evans (1995)

[sturniyolos]

𝖮𝖱 𝖭𝖠𝖧?

𝖢.𝖲 18+

You took another one again. Shot after shot after shot, you knew you weren’t stopping anytime soon. Once the shots started tasting like water, you knew you were fucked. You should’ve known going to the triplets’ 6 million party would kick your ass tomorrow.

“Kid, if you’re gonna drink that much, atleast make sure the drink is good. The fuck is this shit?” Chris states, as he hits a fat ass blunt in his right hand while holding the green BuzzBall in his other. You and Chris’ relationship was okay— to say the least. You grew up with the triplets, but you never got along with Chris. He always had a thing against you, and vice versa. It was your guys’ thing, to insult and hate each other, but you both never understood why. Without a doubt you loved his brothers, but you weren’t sure if you could say the same thing about the youngest one.

“Why’re you here? You’re cockblocking me.” You state, taking the blunt from his hand. Chris turns around to see Vinnie Hacker, a TikToker you so badly crushed on. Chris looked back at you, and rolled his eyes. He looks down at you as you inhale the smoke from the blunt. Chris would be lying if he said he didn’t find you attractive. The way the green LED lights made you look so good, and the tight red dress you were wearing definitely didn’t help.

“Cockblocking? Motherfucker— you’re the last girl a dude would wanna get with.” Chris exclaims, flipping his hat from forward to backwards.

You rolled your eyes as he took the blunt from your hands, and smoking it right away. You watched him as he hit ghosts, dapping up his YouTuber friends. You couldn’t deny that he looked good.. a little too good. You knew Chris was attractive, but his attitude to you always ruined it— or lowkey made it better.

“I’m gonna make more blunts— you tryna hotbox our guest room?” Chris says, holding the unlit end of the blunt to you so you can smoke it while it’s in his fingers. You looked up at him and inhaled the strong smoke while nodding your head. You lead the way and made your way upstairs. Chris didn’t know if you knew or not, but he had no shame staring up your dress, with your lower ass showing, he couldn’t stop himself. It took everything in him not to grab what was infront of him. His fantasy ended when you opened the door to the vacant room and started to walk in.

Chris locks it as you two sit on the big bed, right next to one another.

“The fuck you lockin’ it for?” You ask, taking off your heels that you’ve had on all night.

“Because I don’t want anyone else in here?” He says condescendingly. You look at him as he takes out the supplies he needs to make the blunts. You watch him as he pulls out his ElfBar, and starts hitting ghosts with that as well.

“I wonder if Vinnie is still downstairs” You say.

“Go talk to him if you want him so bad.” Chris mutters, taking out his lighter.

“Sorry, I’m unfortunately up here so.” You shrug, waiting for a response but silence. It’s complete silence as you look at Chris for a response.

“He’s so fine, I don’t know how he doesn’t have a girl yet.” You state as you watch Chris roll up the first blunt. He’s silent once again, which gives you a chance to talk.

“I heard he’s huge, I was tryna see for myself tonight.” You said, repositioning yourself and you accidently shook Chris, making him fuck up his rolling.

“The fuck’s your problem?” He says, becoming agitated randomly.

“Sorry, I didn’t know I’d-“

“Talkin’ to me about some guy’s dick like go fuck him if you want him so bad. I don’t need to be hearing-“

“Woah. Is that what this is about? Are you jealous?” You say, smiling while putting your tongue against your cheek.

“Never said that, just don’t get the hype.” He says, sticking his tongue out so it stays.

“I could say the same thing about you.” You say, standing up and walking from the bed to the door, then leaning on the door.

Chris doesn’t say anything— too focused [and jealous] to say anything back to you.

“Fine, I’ll go find out for myself if he’s huge.” You say, about to unlock the door.

“Walk out that door and I swear to God I’ll punch him in the face.” Chris says. You look back and he’s standing.

“Awe.” You state, walking towards him. “Someone is jealous. Are you mad that you’re not the YouTube It boy no more?”

He looks down at you, and starts walking towards you. You walk back and your back hits the door.

“No. I’m mad because I bet I can make you feel so much better than he can.”

You stare at him. Confused, yet turned on at his remark. You turn your confusion into a smirk, and say,

“How so?”

Chris grabs your throat gently, and you gasp. He cups your face with his hand, and whispers in your ear,

“I’ll fuck you like I hate you.”

“But you do hate me.” You say.

“Even better.”

——————————————————————————

This was jus a lil scrap I found in my drafts teehee. Anywayssss, I hope yall have been enjoying the small fics I’ve been putting out. I love you😇.

[lewisvinga]

because i liked a boy , part ii. | carlos sainz x fem! reader

part one.

summary: carlos sees how y/n is thriving after their break up and he couldn’t help but feel regret, especially after seeing how she moved on.

fc; nicki nicole

warnings; cursing , reader is implied to be a spanish speaker, uhhh idk what else

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested ! this is set over a span of a couple of months btw ! this is a long one for me icl

masterlist !

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and others

yourusername: por las noches [at night] remix out now!

thank you pesopluma for giving me the chance to feature on this track, had so much fun collabing with you!

tagged; pesopluma

username: OMG MOTHER

username: this song is so….💔💔

username: her voice + peso’s voice 😫

username: yall think it’s abt carlos???

pesopluma: fue tan divertido trabajar contigo, hasta la próxima! 🖤😁 [it was so fun working with you, until next time!]

yourusername: gracias por darme la oportunidad 🥹🖤 [thank you for giving me the opportunity]

username: omg wasn’t she rumored to date him before carlos??

username: they just shared a mutual friend 😭

username: ‘solita me dejarás’ [you’ll leave me alone] was 100% aimed at carlos for not defending her 🙁

username: the emotions in her voice, i just know that break up hurt her

lilymhe: idk what you’re saying but your pretty voice makes up for it 😫🫶

yourusername: love uuuuuu

username: when she said ‘todo lo que yo te di y todo lo que me diste, fue pa' nada’ [everything i gave to you and everything you gave to me, was for nothing] i felt that shit in MY SOUL😖😖

username: omg omg omg carlos liked!!!

username: my roman empire is cary/n

username: carlos still liking her posts and following her 🥹🥹

username: “voy a preguntar por qué todos nuestros sentimientos se quedaron en ayer” [i’m going to ask why all of our feelings stayed in yesterday] has me in my FEELS, miss y/n you ate w that🤒

alexandrasaintmleux: amazing! always so talented 🩷💐

yourusername: thank u alex 🥹🫶

username: my ferrari wags💔💔

username: this song seems like the last goodbye to carlos tbh, like she’s letting alllll of her feelings out before moving on bc in her recents she looks so happy🥹🥹🥹🥹 liked by yourusername !

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others!

yourusername: “ALMA”, my first album, is finally out! and if that wasn’t enough, official dates for ALMA tour is also out! presale link in my bio. 🖤🖤🖤

username: HELLOOOO?????

username: IM SLDKSKDO

username: trust I WILL BE GOING TO MADRID TO SEE HER

carmenmmundt: i better get front row seats in madrid!!

yourusername: i’ll get them for you #trust

username: anybody notice how the opening show is in madrid ??? coincidentally before the start of the season??

username: i noticed too omg, i’m convinced the tour was planned before her and carlos broke up so he could see her🥹

username: carlos liked this post too!

lilymhe: OH EM GEEEEE IM SO EXCITEDDDDDD liked by yourusername!

username: working extra shifts rn

carlossainz55: felicitaciones! [congratulations] knew you could do it! liked by yourusername!

username: cary/n💔💔😭😭

username: IM SO HYPED FOR THIS

username: so you’re telling me we might hear ‘because i liked a boy’ and ‘por las noches’ LIVE???!!

yourusername: maybeeeeeee

alexandrasaintmleux: already ready for when they officially go on sale! making charles also use his phone and laptop😌😌

yourusername: alexxxxx🥹🥹🫶🫶

carlos congratulations on the album and the tour, i know how hard you’ve been working on both.

y/n thank you, carlos. yeah, i have been working hard despite certain bumps in the road 😊

carlos listen, i’m so sorry. i should’ve defended you more. it was my mistake and i was blind and stupid and i lost you. i lost an amazing girl.

y/n yeah! you were stupid

y/n i was getting death threats and i was told that it was ‘complicated’ to make a post!

y/n but it’s fine, i’m over it.

carlos well i’m not over you.

y/n deal with it, carlos sainz. you messed up. you lost me.

carlos just give me one more chance, por favor, mi amor. [please, my love] te lo juro, [i swear to you] i won’t fuck it up. please.

y/n no. i have a tour to prepare for. goodbye, carlos.

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others

yourusername: MADRIDDDDD❤️🇪🇸 thank you for creating happier memories for me in this beautiful city. you’re all so special to me🖤🖤

username: ‘happier memories’ rmbr when she’d always be seen in madrid w carlos 🥹

username: OOMF ON TWT SAID SHE SAW CARLOS THERE W CARMEN AND GEORGE AND A MYSTERY GIRL

carmenmmundt: i think i lost my voice from screaming so much🤣 george is even worse!! but amazing like always 💞💞

georgerussell63: broken spanish and don’t have a clue what you said, but i somehow lost my voice

yourusername: it means sm to me that you both enjoyed 🥹🖤

username: MOTHER HAS MOTHERED

username: buenos días y k vivan los mujeres😍 [good morning and long live women]

username: el mejor concierto de mi vida😫😫 [the best concert of my life]

username: streets are saying carlos was there w another girl????

username: the way you guys stopped hating on her the moment she ended things w carlos, you guys are sick!!

username: literally, she was always that girl but since she was dating their fave……

username: idc i never liked her

landonorris: womp womp!

landonorris: waiting for u to come to england

yourusername: soooooon😁

alexandrasaintmleux: so excited for the monaco concert 🩷🩷

yourusername: can’t wait to see you and charles!🫶

liked by carlossainz55, pesopluma, and others

yourusername: special guest in cdmx [mexico city] tonight 🙈 tqm [ilysm] 🖤🖤

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: MI REINAAAAAA😍😍😍 [my queen]

pesopluma: la vida es mejor contigoooooo, tqm❤️❤️ [life is better with you, ilysm]

yourusername: 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🖤🖤🖤

username: the way he looks at her, i am unwell

username: she looks so happy w him🙁🙁

username: friends to lovers is REALLL

username: mis faves

username: cdmx concert was the best one

username: POR LAS NOCHES LIVE>>

lilymhe: cuties🫶 2x date next time ur in town??

yourusername: of course 😖

username: not carlos liking 😭

username: wonder how carlos feels realizing he fumbled a bad bitch like y/n for not defending her online

username: the way peso pluma said ‘i’d defend her with my life, that’s how much i love her’ during his lil speech during the concert was so🥹🥹

username: i’m so happy that she looks so happy and relieved, AND THE COMMENT SECTION HAS NO TOXIC FANS!!

username: 😖😖😖😖😖😫😫😫💞

carlos so you’re dating your ‘friend’ now huh

y/n weird i don’t remember asking.🤣

y/n he was there for me when i was getting death threats and being called a slut for nothing. he was there to comfort me when i cried over the thousands of hate comments under every post.

y/n something you never did.

carlos wait until he finds another girl and will dump you. you know how it is when people get that famous that fast. he won’t treat you well.

y/n HA what a joke. very funny, sainz.

y/n weren’t you the one to bring a girl to MY concert?? but i’m the bad guy for moving on and dating someone else???

y/n you’re pathetic, sainz.

carlos admit it, you know i’m right

y/n fuck off, he treats me better than you ever did

carlos sure. sure he does.

y/n move on, sainz. move on.

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and others!

yourusername: princess treatment only 💞🥹 muchas gracias, mi rey🖤 [thank you very much, my king]

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: lo mejor para usted, mi reina❤️ [the best for you, my queen]

yourusername: mi amor 🥹🫶

username: literal goals

username: mis padres

username: a relationship like them pls

username: the way she went from carlos to peso pluma>>>>

username: SHE SAID PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY ‼️‼️ WE ONLY WANT MEN WHO DEFEND US‼️‼️ liked by yourusername !

username: she looks sooooo happy n free i love it

username: as much as i miss cary/n, peso pluma really does treat her like a queen

lilymhe: ITS WHAT YOU DESERVE BBY!!!!! liked by yourusername !

username: oh i just know lily knows the real shit abt carlos and y/n

lilymhe: i am neither confirming not denying…

landonorris: cool but can u tell him to get on his pc and join the game🙄🙄🙄🙄

pesopluma: on it 🫡

charles_leclerc: WAIT FOR ME

username: wait omg he’s friends w the drivers????

username: duh, she’s besties w the wags , ofc he’s gonna know their bfs

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous gorgeous girls date wonderful amazing guys who make them happy💐🩷🩷

yourusername: well that also makes you a gorgeous gorgeous girl! ilysm🫶🖤🥹

username: wonder how carlos feels knowing he lost y/n to a guy who treats her better AND is friends w his friends 😭😭

username: if i was him i’d be sooo pissed 😭

username: imagine if he was begging for her to take him back

yourusername: lol imagine

[lovings4turn]

୭ 🗝️ ✧ ˚. 🪩 don't delete the kisses . . . (l.n.)

— you and lando walk a fine line between ‘just friends’ and something more. but sometimes, it seems like love just isn't meant for you (2.6k words)

+ mentions of drinking and clubs, a lot of miscommunication and pining but i promise it's somewhat fluffy. based on don't delete the kisses by wolf alice.

+ part two | divider from cafekitsune

lando: where r u???? 02:43

lando: y/nnnn:(( 02:45

lando: charls told me you left 02:48

lando: get hmome safe 02:49

you didn't mean to pull an irish goodbye, honestly. but the club was far too loud, and you were nowhere near drunk enough to tolerate the remixed house music and overpriced drinks for any longer.

the easiest option was simply to slip out unnoticed, send a quick text to let everyone know you were okay, and head home alone. if you'd mention your wanting to leave early, no doubt at least three of your friends would decide to leave with you in solidarity, no matter how much you insisted they stay and enjoy their night. that way, everyone was happy.

after confirming that the car you were about to climb into was your uber, you sank into the plush seat, offering your driver a tired half-smile through his rear view mirror. you were thankful that he seemed to understand you weren’t quite in the mood for conversation, and the rest of the ride was silent save for the music playing from his radio.

pressing your forehead to the glass of the window, you allowed your eyes to flutter closed as you thought over the events of the night, replaying every last detail in your head.

it had all started with the fucking shirt. 

official galas and nice dinners meant that you were no stranger to lando wearing nice shirts, the sleeves cuffed and a tie usually hanging around his neck. but when lando greeted you with a hug, his ironically named black button-down unbuttoned to the point that it could be considered obscene, you almost forgot how to function. warm skin pressed against your own, and you hated yourself for realising just how perfectly you moulded against his chest. 

never had you been more thankful for the presence of max verstappen, whose offer of heading to the bar allowed you the perfect chance to slip away and regain your composure. the red bull driver made small talk with you as the bartender took your orders, and you responded politely, nodding when you were supposed to and laughing along to the odd joke. 

but like a moth to a flame, you couldn’t keep your eyes from falling back onto lando. 

somehow even in a packed, lively club, lando’s presence shone the brightest out of all the partygoers. worst of all, he didn’t even have to do anything special. he was simply standing there, nimble fingers wrapped around a cup that you assumed contained a vodka soda as he laughed with his friends. dark curls had started to slip into his eyes, whatever he’d used to style them clearly wearing off as he began to sweat a little. 

even doing nothing, he managed to look like he’d fallen from heaven right into your life. 

someone up there clearly had it out for you, as lando scanned the room and caught your eye. to look away would only incriminate you further, make it look like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t be, so you smiled. lando shot you a toothy grin back, eyes scrunched shut with the enthusiasm of it. 

a cold glass thrust into your palm stole away your attention, and you turned to meet the knowing smirk of max. he nursed his own drink, and one thick brow was raised in a silent question. though he never spoke, it was clear that he knew something was going on between you and lando.

maybe he didn’t want to embarrass you, or maybe he truly didn’t care, but whatever the reason max didn’t vocalise any of his thoughts to you. he simply nodded back over to where your group was standing and gestured for you to walk ahead of him. as you made your way back to the group, you suppressed the urge to worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

to anyone else, the interaction wouldn’t be much to think about. max had caught you, what, smiling at your friend? it was hardly criminal activity. you were just overthinking, the rational part of your brain insisted. but the other part took max’s expression and ran with it.

if max had noticed you harboured certain feelings for lando, then who else had drawn the same conclusions? the last thing you wanted was to be caught staring longingly over at lando, stars in your eyes and a far away look. 

in circles like these, people talked, and where formula one drivers went, gossip’s eye was never far around the corner. you’d seen it happen before to other drivers, countless tweets and headlines about who they were caught talking to or dancing with, and the last thing you needed was the speculation of the public on your relationship with lando.

sobered by this thought, you brought the paper straw to your lips, taking a long sip of your gin and tonic and hoping the alcohol would calm you down a little. much to your relief, almost upon arrival you were dragged into a nonsensical conversation with george, alex and lily. george’s slurred speech and alex’s loud laughter granted you a distraction, though it would be a lie to say that your eyes didn’t constantly wander back to lando.

but the heart wants what it wants, and so you couldn’t ignore him forever.

not even a second after an upbeat, bass-heavy song reverberated through the club’s speakers did lando appear by your side, grinning wildly.

“y/n! i’ve been looking for you, come dance w’me!” he shouted, dipping his head down to position his mouth next to your ear.

hot breath tickled your skin, and you shuddered slightly as lando’s larger hand enveloped your own, allowing him to drag you through the crowds towards the dance floor. every now and then, he’d peer over his shoulder to ensure you were still with him, the smile never leaving his lips. everything around him seemed to fade, the bright lights and crowds eclipsed by his radiance. 

the crowd seemed to open up around him, blooming like a flower to grant you both more than enough space to dance comfortably without the threat of being hit by stray limbs. lando didn’t even let you get your bearings before he spun you around, high pitched laughter managing to meet your ears even over the pounding music. 

it was impossible not to laugh too. you reached up onto your tiptoes, hand still in lando’s own, and spun him around in return. thanks to his height advantage, lando had to duck a little to make the move work, but his hair still brushed against your bare wrist as he passed under it. the tickle travelled along your skin like lightning, leaving goosebumps. 

dancing had never been either of your strong suits. even after years of clubbing together, it seemed that each night out was another chance to try to learn exactly what it was you were supposed to do on the dancefloors of clubs and bars, yet you never cared too much.

around lando, everything felt right.

you two continued to dance, mirroring each other's sloppy movements. lando shot you a faux insulted look as you imitated his default dance move, awkwardly moving one arm around to the beat and pointing to the ceiling.

"i do not look like that!" he protested, struggling to keep up his irritated act.

you only shrugged, smirking slightly as you continued to mock him.

another bass-heavy, sultry song began to play, and you dropped your hands. a re-evaluation of how you were supposed to dance was much needed, but lando was one step ahead of you.

without a second thought, lando's hands came to rest on your hips. he took a step closer to you, moving to the beat and prompting you to move along with him.

how you were still breathing was a miracle. 

lando was so lost in the music that he was oblivious to your abrupt change in demeanour. suddenly, everything was heightened. even the slightest brush of lando's thumb burned through the fabric of your dress, and you'd gladly bear the marks of the searing touch if it was proof he'd been there at all.

delight soon turned to nerves, as the butterflies in your stomach quickly evolved into wasps, prickly and angry. you'd gotten carried away, dancing with lando like this, and it was beginning to catch up with you. 

"i need some air!" you blurted.

lando's eyes snapped open, roaming over your face in concern. he lifted his hand to your face, but to do what, he was unsure. you cursed inwardly at his reaction, his kicked puppy look making you feel even worse.

before he could question you, you forced a wide smile, waving your hand dismissively. "i'm fine! go have fun," you promised, patting his shoulder firmly.

after lando had turned his back, you’d wasted no time in making your way to the club’s exit. just before you could slip through the doorway, you made eye contact with charles. the man only gave you an understanding nod, deciding it wasn’t worth it to pester you to stay.

cold wind whipped your cheeks, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe properly. haphazard texts were sent to a handful of people you’d seen tonight, and you’d ordered an uber straight after.

all that was left to do now was sit with your thoughts.

maybe romance wasn’t meant for you. maybe lando wasn’t meant for you. like some sort of divine intervention, your apartment came into view before you could spiral too far.

the familiar sight broke you from your daydream, as your focus now lay on getting out of the car and into your apartment without falling over or dropping anything. it was a welcome distraction from the thoughts of lando that plagued your mind.

it’s like your own head was conspiring against you: even when he wasn’t physically around, you still found a way to gravitate towards him.

there were few sights better than that of your freshly made bed, the sheets practically begging you to slip beneath them and go to sleep. unfortunately, you still needed to change out of your club outfit. and take off your makeup. and text lando back. 

fumbling around in your bag for your phone, you let out a triumphant noise and perched on the end of your bed to type out your reply.

y/n: sorry lan, i just-

[MESSAGE DELETED]

y/n: i'm home! sorry for leaving like that, it was-

[MESSAGE DELETED]

you groaned, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. there was no reason you should be overthinking a text to lando, of all people. after a deep sigh, you let your fingers dance over the keyboard, rewriting yet another poor excuse for leaving unannounced.

y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside xx

your finger hovered over the 'send' button before you made one final, crucial revision to the text.

y/n: home safe! sorry for disappearing, couldn't find u before i left and the uber was outside:( 03:24

checking the time at the top of your screen, you figured that lando probably wouldn’t respond until morning. well, afternoon, more likely.

you’d been on countless nights out with lando before; by now his drunken behaviours were engraved into your brain.

like clockwork, lando would hit a certain level of drunk and abandon his phone altogether, opting to sling an arm around someone’s shoulder - usually yours - and drag them off to dance. he wouldn’t even think about his phone until the next morning, checking his messages after finding the device tangled somewhere within the sheets of his bed.

sleep quickly became your top priority. as tempted as you were to just lay down in your current state, you knew that the future, sober you would regret it. in your eyes, you deserved an award for dragging yourself to the bathroom and removing your makeup carefully, not without performing a shorter rendition of your skincare routine and brushing your teeth.

yes, your clothes were bundled up and thrown into the corner of your room, and you opted for an old t-shirt - frustratingly, one of lando’s - instead of a set of pyjamas, but you were only human. 

exhaustion seemed to take over you the moment that your head hit the pillow, and you let out a soft sigh of relief as sleep began to take its hold. messy curls and a bright smile was the last thing on your mind as you finally lost consciousness.

meanwhile, the other drivers were still in the club with no intentions of slowing down.

lando squinted at the bright screen of his phone, vaguely able to decipher the letters that made up your text. a sigh of relief escaped him as he realised you had gotten home safely, but disappointment still sat heavy in his chest.

“she’s home,” he shouted in oscar’s ear, though his teammate hadn’t asked.

oscar didn’t have to ask who lando was talking about to understand. he’d noticed that lando’s head had operated on a swivel from the moment he’d realised that you were nowhere to be found. he was like an owl, spinning around in a way that dizzied him, all in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you.

if ever questioned about the pout that settled on his lips, lando would probably blame the alcohol for causing his dramatics to be heightened. of course he wasn’t actually that upset that you’d opted to leave a little earlier, not at all.

“that’s good! she say why she left?” oscar shouted back, dipping his head down so lando could hear him a little better over the chaos of the club.

his question made lando frown further. 

“no.”

though it was in response to oscar’s question, lando’s answer was directed more towards himself, voice barely above a mumble. he’d only just realised that you hadn’t actually mentioned why you’d left the club early, just why you didn’t say goodbye.

deep in thought, lando’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece together some sort of timeline. last he’d seen you, you had been dancing together, having what he thought was a great time. okay, maybe his hands had wandered a little further than he’d expected, but it didn’t mean anything. he just got caught up in the moment, the fabric of your clothes beneath his hands far too tempting for him to be able to think clearly. 

fuck, what if he’d made you uncomfortable? 

lando knew that he became more touchy when he was drunk, his desire for affection growing exponentially as his propensity for shame decreased. your personal space became his, too. it was common for him to sling his arms around your waist, or rest his head on your shoulder as the night grew longer, but he’d never gripped your hips like that until tonight.

it would explain why you were in such a hurry to leave, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone and give them the chance to persuade you to stay for just one more dance. he’d overstepped an unspoken boundary in your friendship, and panic began to bubble in the pit of his stomach. 

lando swallowed thickly before standing up, garnering a confused look from the australian sitting next to him. 

“i need another drink. i’ll be back.”

before oscar could even speak, lando had disappeared into the thronging mass of the party without another word.

🏷️ tags : @faerieroyal @starriesworlds @itscrzy @srrcsm

[stunt-on-um]

[qqtxt]

[🐯] windflowers brought me back to you

✿ pairing: beomgyu x reader / idol!txt / non.idol!you / exes-to-lovers (kind of) / very angsty in the beginning but fluff at the end / 8,915 words ✿ disclaimer: cursing and foul language / heavy emotions and insecurities / mentions of food and eating / clichè romantic trope / reader is friends with the other members / reader calls beomgyu ‘gyu’ / the timeline kind of follows their act:lovesick tour / jokes of death in a playful manner / txt members acting like cupids (not them trying to fix your relationship with gyu) ✿ you thought the day that beomgyu broke up with you was the day he had let go of the love he had for you; little did you know, he carried his love for you throughout his tour and came back to fix his mistake. ✿ 🎧: windflower by mamamoo (lofi remix by karma)

note: hi 👉👈 i know i literally dropped off the face of the earth but honestly, life has been a handful but i’m slowly writing things in the drafts and this is one that was sitting on the shelf for a while that i didn’t know how to feel about it so, i’m sending it off the shelf! merry x’mas, lovelies and hope you are all safe and well! 💖

[masterlist 🌸] / @kflixnet​​ ✨

it was a normal day today; it would’ve been, it should’ve been. peace, quiet... the lingering embedded pain in your heart every time your phone receives a notification and you know you’re not going to see a familiar name showing up. at this point, it’s been months. you should move on by now; maybe you were, in some twisted way your heart was healing each time his name rang in your mind and you tried not to show any emotion–cruel, but it was the only way you’d cope. it was progress, one day at a time, slowly, his face will dissolve, his name won’t hurt you when you hear it, and maybe you’ll man up to delete all traces of him from your life.

today, however, that name you’ve been longing for shows up in person by your door–and he only hopes that you still long to see him as he lifts his head up to look at you–all your efforts be damned.

choi beomgyu, who decided to let you go–days before he went on tour–was standing in front of you. the tour merely ended days ago and he had returned home. the first place he was determined to go was wherever you were.

the sight alone is what makes you wonder if this was some sort of cruel hallucination. it doesn’t feel real, let alone look like it. your chest feels like it’s contracting on you; restricting you from breathing right the longer you process what’s happening. why isn’t this going away? when will it disappear? what the fuck is going on? is this a nightmare? no... is this a dream? whatever it was, it was hurting you; it was scaring you, you’re shaking, you still–stay still, for fuck’s sake, don’t move–still can’t breathe.

“y/n.”

oh my god.

it fucking talks.

it makes you instinctively shift back, one step, two, your hand still gripping the door handle. if this was some sort of apparition, you want absolutely no part in. beomgyu licks his lips, well aware and prepared for you to slam the door in his face... but the longer you wait... the more he feels like there’s a chance.

a chance that you hadn’t banished him completely. that maybe somewhere, in your heart, he’s still in there.

he slowly reaches out with one hand, carefully, as if he’s afraid you’d dash off if he had moved any quicker. when his hand touches the side of your arm, a gentle squeeze as his fingers manage to have a hold on you, it reaffirms to you that this is real–that this isn’t some sort of sadistic mockery from up above but it just may be a commentary coming from hell itself with how ironic this all was. the one who decided to end things and cut ties with you shows up at your door, under your mercy, looking afraid of you.

as if the nights you spent crying wondering what went wrong didn’t matter. as if you didn’t suffocate yourself to sleep in the tears of thinking if it was all your fault, if you weren’t good enough, beautiful enough, not nearly enticing as the people day in and day out of the industry he works in. as if... you didn’t wish things ended differently if only you had the chance to make things right. as if he didn’t just disappear the second he broke your heart.

your head robotically manages to look down to the side where his hand is twitching as he has a hold on you. it feels like it’s barely there but the longer you stare; the veins and the tremble of his hand, it all confirms to you that it’s real. you don’t move a muscle as your eyes look back to him. the silence is your welcoming friend when beomgyu’s lips quiver as they part to speak, yet no words come out. 

you find the strength to grip his wrist and push his hand off of you. you would’ve been quicker, stronger, if it wasn’t the way he holds onto your hand before you can shove him off entirely. it scares you, so much that your eyes snap shut to the unknown. in the midst of seeing the pitch black, the scarring image of his face still flashes beneath your eyelids. you hate how your stomach still churns at the sight of his face; how handsomely painful it was to swallow it.

his hold on you is tight, desperate... anxious. his hand... feels exactly like they way they were when he last held onto you. his slender fingers find their way to hold yours properly, feeling palm-to-palm. not even when you try to shake him off does he let go; he holds on tighter.

he takes a step closer, stopping when your eyes peel open and he gapes when the tears start to fall from your eyes. his lungs feel like they’re failing him; contracting, shrinking on him when he needs to breathe the most. ten seconds; it was only ten seconds that he stares at you in the midst of heavy breathing and his eyes start to water. hot tears stinging his eyes but he stubbornly holds his gaze on you.

just what on earth was he doing?

you’d be surprise that beomgyu was wondering the same thing.

where does beomgyu begin? ten seconds, with ten fleeting thoughts that rapidly thread through his mind. one, you look beautiful. two, you still, always, breathtakingly look beautiful–as if the months had done nothing but polish the imagery he had of you in his mind. three, i miss you. four, i miss kissing you. five, i’m sorry. six, i’m sorry. seven–ten, i’m sorry.

“i’m sorry,” is the first thing you hear him say under a whispered breath.

shaking; the syllables trembling to get past his lips.

the soft sound of surprise, choking from your tears, echoes into his ears like a stab to the chest. you’re squeezing his hand, so hard that it feels like it’s starting to dig into his skin, clenching to his bone but he deserves it. he deserves all the pain willing to lift from how much he’s hurt you.

the piercing glare he’s met with almost makes him break but he refuses to let go of your hand. it feels like the only leverage he has on you to make sure he doesn’t let you go. let you go. how truly, ironically idiotic. another step closer and you can feel his breath ghosting your skin. he’s already making you cry without saying anything and upon hearing his voice for the first time in four months makes your heart shatter.

“what do you want from me?” your whisper is broken, so soft that it can barely be heard but it cuts straight through beomgyu’s ears, aiming to strike a chord in his heart.

“y-you.”

the answer was simple, yet the most difficult to say.

the silence soon gets filled with the sounds of you crying and you trying to stop yourself from crying. it’s ugly, painful, and no matter how many hits to the chest beomgyu takes, he’s taking it all rightfully so. you grow tired, weak, unable to hold yourself up that beomgyu has his arms around you and he knows. he knows that he’s trying to be as close to you not for your sake but for his.

your presence was all he ever dreamed of since the day he said goodbye.

and now that he’s here at your doorstep, as selfish as it may seem, he doesn’t want to say goodbye.

beomgyu slowly shifts you back into your home when you don’t say anything. hell, you’re not even looking at him. your hands are glued to your sides, stubbornly staying there as he calculates his movements to close the door behind him. when he turns back around, he sees how you’ve moved to sit on the sofa, sitting crossed-legged with your feet folded between your thighs and you hug a pillow.

he swallows thickly and feels his hands getting all clammy. the fact the he’s in here speaks volumes but it doesn’t guarantee anything just yet. he makes his way towards you and kneels before you, sitting on his heels, peering up to you with a small frown. he keeps one hand on his lap, the other reaching out to touch your knee.

it seems like that captures your attention when you gaze down to his hand on you and–and...–”oh... oh my god,” you gasp, pulling out the ring from the box, adoring the simplistic but shining silver band with the engraving of his initials. “it’s so pretty!”

he chuckles and reveals his hand behind his back, making you grow wide-eyed at the similar ring he’s wearing on his middle finger–ignoring the way he’s flipping you off playfully–that you grab for his hand to see how your initials are on the ring he’s wearing. it was your one year anniversary and you’re certain he’s not proposing but it’s the sentiment that gets to you. you feel the tears filling your eyes and–he slips on the ring onto your middle finger, now laughing when you flip him off in return.

he snatches your hand and kisses your knuckles, shaking his head, “augh, such a cheeky little thing you are.”

“takes one to know one, you brat.”...–your eyes scan the initials imprinted on the ring he’s still wearing. it reminds you of the ring you shoved back into the box and in the deepest part of your closet... but the scarring memory of where it is is imprinted to your brain.

beomgyu was prepared for anything–but nothing can prepare him for the way you uncross your arms hugging the pillow to trace the engraving on his ring. it’s as if you’re in disbelief he’s still wearing it and it pains him. it pains him how sad you looked; as if he wasn’t the root of the cause to begin with.

he builds up the courage to speak when your hand goes back to hugging yourself, this time staring at a spot on his shoulder rather than outside the window.

“i never took it off,” he begins, clearing his throat when your eyes flicker up to meet his gaze. he notices a shift in your eyes when you notice that he’s crying, quietly, still trying to remain strong and tall to get his thoughts out. “i... i never stopped loving you. you’re–you were all i ever wanted to be with. still are.”

“it doesn’t make any fucking sense,” is the full coherent sentence you’re saying. it makes his gut drop to his stomach, his mouth going dry. “you broke up with me,” your voice is soft; a mere whisper. but it cuts through the thick tension; straight jabbing him through the chest. “you left me.”

he licks his lips as he shifts up, on his knees as he squeezes your kneecap, “y/n, please let me exp–”

“you don’t have to explain anything,” you move your knee to let his hand slip away, now keeping your knees in front of you like a shield from him, “you told me you didn’t love me anymore. told me you never wanted to see me again...” 

he shakes his head at your words, trying to get a look of your face when you hang your head low, refusing to look at him as you hid behind your knees, “so why the fuck are you here?”

that gets him to sit back on his heels in defeat. he lowers his head to his lap. beomgyu has one hand on the armrest next to you, the other holding onto the cushion on your other side. at the lack of his response, you peek from over your knees to see how he tries to muster up a reply. and when it does come, you find yourself getting angry.

“i thought it was the best for you. i... you didn’t deserve a love like this,” his voice shakes as he speaks, “you deserve to have someone by your side. day by day–everyday. giving you the love you deserve and–”he gets choked up with his words, to the point it’s making it hard for you to breathe. you hated it. you hate how you believe every word he’s saying even if it’s making your heart break and again all over again.

“i thought you were better off with someone else other than me.”

you clutch onto the pillow close to your chest, sitting up a little until your eyes are aligning with his eyes the second he tips his chin up. tears falling from his eyes, your eyes; both crying, like miserable, broken faucets.

“have you ever thought to ask me?”

it was a simple question; yet the hardest for beomgyu to comprehend.

“have you ever wondered what it was like from my point of view? seeing you smiling on stage as if nothing happened to us. days of wondering of what went wrong, months of unable to put together why all of the sudden the one person who promised he won’t leave me, left?” you’re surprised you’re speaking without losing a train of thought. but you guess that’s what anger does to you when you feel your veins being set ablaze. the anger, the frustration, the pain; it all bottled up and now it was your chance to vent it out to the source of your suffering.

“i thought about you everyday,” he tries to defend himself, straightening his back, “i keep thinking of you. when i’m awake, when i’m asleep,” he gulps, brows meeting the centre of his forehead at how serious he sounds, “i miss you,” he whispers, “i’ve missed you so much–”he gasps softly when he tries to reach for you and you move away from him, dodging his touch trying to reach your knee. 

“you don’t get to do this to me,” your words hit him; hard enough to get him to rise to his feet when you start to move away from him. you manage to stand, ditching the pillow with your mind pinning your bedroom as your destination to get away from him. the blood boiling from within is making the words fly out of your mouth before you can hold them back. maybe you’ll come to regret it later or maybe you won’t. in the heat of the moment–right fucking now–nothing else mattered.

“you don’t get to leave and decide when to show up promising me the moon and the stars and in the next, make life a living hell for me,” you’re now talking to the wind, to the hallway of your home because it was easier to vent that way than saying it to his face. stubbornly refusing to look at him as you trudge your way to the bedroom. based on the footsteps, the brush of his fingertips against your lower back, you can tell he’s following you closely.

your hand pushes the bedroom door open and you’re turning around in attempts to shut him out but you should’ve known better. should’ve known that your heart would grow weak at the sight of him; more so when he’s crying, begging with his eyes even if he doesn’t know he’s doing it subconsciously. his eyes have nearly gone red, much like yours but you always, always feel the hurt he feels even when you shouldn’t. 

he holds onto your shoulders to stop you from closing the door as he steps in; to your room, to your personal space, to you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, licking his lips to taste the saltiness of his own tears tearing him down, “i’m so sorry,” his voice is softer this time, a weak whisper, a broken plea.

then he leans his forehead on you and it breaks you for the second time when you start crying again. he anchors you with a hand on your shoulder, the other reaching up to wipe the tears falling from your eyes.

“i-i can’t take back what i did. i can’t fucking rewind time but i can do better now. i promise,” he sniffs, shaking his forehead against yours, “p-please...” he begs, “please give me a second chance.”

for a split second, beomgyu’s heart stops when you blink up to him; past the tears, past the horrible struggle to breathe. the hammering in his head stops thumping to hear you sob a broken you didn’t even let me say goodbye.

beomgyu’s eyes shut as shifts his hands to pull you into his embrace; feeling his heart clench at the sounds of you crying and shaking against him. the consequences of his rash actions are being paid with each tear, each cry you let out that it scars his heart. and he knows it. slept with it every night, haunting him when the daylight comes through and the first imagery that comes to mind is the smile on your face he’s taken away. with a hand cradling the back of your head to the space between his neck and shoulder, the other clutching you by the waist to feel all of you. as if he doesn’t want to wake up if this was some sick, twisted dream; a beautiful nightmare, a bittersweet hallucination.

“you’ve hurt me so much,” your words are muffled to his skin, as he feels your tears burning his skin but he stubbornly holds on, nodding against the side of your head as he whispers: “i’m sorry.”

“i hate you,” you don’t mean that.

“i want to hate you,” and you have every right to.

“but i can’t,” beomgyu feels your arms weakly hugging him, then it shifts to a tighter grip as you pull him close. if this was a dream, you wouldn’t want to wake up from it, either. he exhales shakily as he feels your arms around him, welcoming him back home even if he knows he doesn’t deserve it but he’ll prove it. from the moment he saw you today, from the days building up to this moment; in every waking moment since he’s made a decision he’s regretted, he promised himself he’ll make it up to you.

it could be days, weeks, maybe months, but beomgyu wants to work for it.

for you, for us.

“i’m sorry,” he murmurs into your ears once more, and this time he feels you nodding into his shoulder with a croaky i know.

“i love you,” he tries his luck, even when he knows it’s too much to ask for.

he doesn’t get a reply, but he doesn’t need to when you simply snuggle into him and give his waist a squeeze. that... this was enough.

being in your arms, being home... this is love.

//

love itself isn’t easy and beomgyu knows that getting your forgiveness isn’t something that’s just granted. sure, the two of you fell asleep on the same bed that night, granting him to hug you and cocoon you from the pain he’s caused embedded in your chest but it wasn’t something you could forgive right away.

to be honest, as you woke up in the middle of the night and saw his face so close to you, it didn’t feel like you needed to forgive him for what he had done. an apology wasn’t something you were looking for; not when he was away, not when he’s here... perhaps... perhaps it was the reassurance that he truly did love you during the time apart; during the days and nights you spent wondering if your love was real... maybe that was the thing you needed the puzzle pieces for.

and it’s not something he can just say, that would be impossible.

it was hard. you love him, that much you know. he says he loves you but... that doesn’t feel like it when the doubts start to cloud your mind. not when you had accepted the fact that your love with beomgyu wasn’t meant to be; not when you’ve finally tried to remove him from your heart, only for him to stem his presence back in the deepest crevice you can’t seem to get rid of.

//

beomgyu wakes up to emptiness that morning and he pads out of your bedroom to see you preparing breakfast. even though all he wants to do is stride up to you to hug you, there’s something in the air of eggs and bacon that tells him not to... so he doesn’t. he asks if you need help instead to announce his presence and you tell him that he can help with getting the table ready and pour whatever juice he wants.

breakfast was eaten in silence but in the tension lighter than the day before. he feels his heart in a chokehold when you clear your throat and he looks up to this expression on your face he can’t piece together. he gulps the orange juice down and reaches across the table when he sees your fingers trembling as you hold onto your cup. 

he makes you set the cup down and then he holds onto your hand. gently, reassuring you that you can say whatever’s on your mind because even though you two have been apart for months, once upon a time, beomgyu could read you like the back of his hand... maybe some information are out of date but he knows your body language. he still remembers the things about you to know you had something on your mind but was too nervous to speak.

“i... still love you,” your confession is soft but it was certain. beomgyu heard it and you know he did when he involuntarily squeezes your hand as an acknowledgement. “t-that much i know but... i need time...”

you swallow and look up, meeting his gaze with glazed eyes, “i took so long to heal from us,” you can feel your own breath wavering and you try to swallow it down but it doesn’t seem to work when you feel your eyes start to burn. “f-from you... the last thing i expected is you showing up on my door to tell me you still love me when i spent days convincing myself you never did.”

beomgyu’s mouth opens to retort, to tell you that you’re wrong, that you should’ve never felt anything of that sort but... succumbs to the fact that he can’t change anything you’ve felt in the past; during the time of his absence. your feelings were valid and they are real in his eyes as he witnesses more of the result of what he’s done. quietly, he seals his lips together and nods.

“i just need some time to clear my head and... and...” beomgyu hates the crack in your voice when the emotions get the best of you. 

“hey, no no no,” he quickly rises from his seat and lets go of your hand. his eyes watches how you’re wrapping yourself up, trying to hide yourself but he’s crouching before you. his hands carefully peel you open so you can lean into his embrace as he lures you to bend from your seat, entering his arms as he slots your face to his neck; the tears trickle down his skin as he holds you closely. 

it solidifies to him that he’ll need to respect your decision to give you the space you need until you’re ready to see him again... until you’re ready to love him again.

//

three days.

going to work eased the nerves, gave you some time out from overthinking about the questions you can’t get the answers to. you don’t even know what questions you had. you quite literally don’t know what you don’t know. it was confusing, frustrating... suffocating. it’s a bit lighter and bearable when you are on speaking terms with beomgyu despite him giving you your space. before he left the morning after you two reconciled, he asked if he could contact you during this time and you had agreed. that much you can give him, that much you know you can handle.

apart from the good morning’s and the sweet dreams’... everything in between felt like a blur. you two could still converse like you used to but you’ll be honest to admit that something doesn’t feel quite right. like something was missing... maybe it was trust? you weren’t sure if you trust him, if you could wholeheartedly trust him when he says he loves you.

you enter the quiet of your apartment and set your bag down. work has been idle, so it granted you some extra time to try to clear your mind but not without anything to do. as you switch on the television for some white noise, the knock on the door is what makes you jolt at the sound that resonates your home.

carefully, you pad your way over and take a look at the peephole, noticing a familiar looking face and–”y/n!”

“oh?” your eyes widen, gaping at the face smiling at you so widely.

“augh, don’t tell me you forgot us already!” soobin chuckles, spreading his arms out and you’re raising a brow at the word ‘us’ but you step into his arms regardess, peering over his shoulder to–”k-kai?”

“this is ridiculous,” soobin scoffs a laugh, squeezing the life out of you that you squeak a garbled: “s-sorry, sorry! i just–soobin, i can’t breathe!”

“hyung!” kai huffs, prying his arms from your figure. that grants the latter to cheekily pull you into his arms.

"ugh, hug stealer...” soobin mutters under his breath, patting kai’s shoulder when the younger boy clings onto you like a koala, now dragging you back in to your own home. they quickly settle in as if they live here, knowing where everything is from the layout to where you keep your cups you use to make tea and then making tea with what you have. they move like clockwork; soobin putting the water to boil and kai making you sit on the kitchen counter and you watch them.

kai occupies one of the stools you have by the island and soobin leans his hip against the kitchen sink as they both watch you fiddle with your fingers on your lap, legs dangling against the kitchen cabinets behind your feet.

“i... i’m sorry,” are the first words you say to them after a while.

soobin gapes, shaking his head, “h-hey, we didn’t come here for that...”

kai frowns as he hunches over the island with folded arms, a similar expression with soobin. being together with beomgyu meant that you were introduced to the circle of people he surrounds himself almost everyday. if beomgyu wasn’t here with you, he’s back in the dorm with them so it was a matter of time that you all slowly spend time together. and it happened so naturally that you forget that beomgyu’s the reason why you know the rest of the boys in the first place. you get along with all of them but for some reason, you gravitated towards soobin... who drags along kai just because.

it was hard to keep in contact with them when you know they’re with the source of why you were hurting during your break-up. seeing them felt the same like seeing beomgyu; it reminded you too much of him that you shut all of them out. taking advantage of the fact that they were away on tour meant blocking them on any social media platform and on your phone gave you the power to control what can hurt you and what can’t. and it can’t hurt you if you can’t see it. at least, what’s what you told yourself the second you started to dessert your phone and soon, all five of them are on your blocked list.

“i know but,” you offer them a small smile, “i’m sorry.”

soobin and kai keep quiet, returning your smile that slowly fades when you continue to speak.

“when things ended between me and gyu... it was hard to see you guys, let alone talk to you even if it was on text so i...”

“blocked us?” kai auto-fills, not with any malice but simply for the act of trying to help you. soobin hisses with a narrowed look he shoots at the younger, “huening!”

“what? i was just trying to help!”

“yeah,” you snort, now looking at your hands on your lap, “i didn’t know what else to do and i most certainly knew i couldn’t talk to you guys in the right headspace so i just did what felt right in the moment,” you glance up to see they’re both still staring that you shyly lower your eyes, “again, i’m sorry.”

“will you stop apologizing?” soobin huffs, crossing his arms and tilting his head at you. “we didn’t come here for an apology. we came here to check on our friend.”

with pressed lips, you nod. 

then, curiosity takes over.

“did... did you guys know?”

both of them shake their head.

“he only told us after our show in chicago,” kai answers, now resting his chin in his palm. “then we all tried reaching out to you but–”

“huening, oh my god,” soobin chastises, to which kai rolls his eyes, “how else am i supposed to say it?!”

“oh i don’t know, maybe with a bit more sense?”

“you have no sense!”

the two of them only stop bickering when they hear you laugh, clearly enjoying the way they can still act how they did months before they left, as if nothing has changed and... the words slip out of your mouth: “you guys are still the same old idiots.”

three laughters now intertwining, filling the kitchen. slowly, however, the hilarity subsides, and soobin’s the first to break the silence.

“that applies for beomgyu too, you know?” beomgyu never stopped loving you.

you meet with soobin’s eyes and even when you don’t say anything, soobin can feel the sadness in your eyes especially when you look away. the disbelief evident, the betrayal still running in your veins, in your every waking thought.

“hyung never stopped loving you,” kai tries to help, “even on tour, he keeps writing these cheesy lines–”kai’s voice is cut short when soobin lets out a sound, a mix of a yelp and a tsk that it gets lost in translation. that’s not what gets kai to stop, though. what does is the way you quietly plead with a soft don’t.

“i-if you guys truly meant it when you said you came here as my friends, then please just come here as that,” they only notice you’re about to cry when your voice wavers, eyes still avoiding them. you hop off the kitchen counter, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand when you feel the tears incoming, “d-don’t come here to fix a mistake that someone else made.”

they can’t respond when you mutter a soft be right back and scurry off to the bathroom; closing and locking the door after. the two boys almost get into an argument on whose fault it is but decided against it when the water boils. they instead prepare instant ramen and cups of tea, waiting for you in the living room as they circle the coffee table.

when you return to the sight, on cue, both of their arms wave out a ta da! that it makes it difficult to stay mad at them. whether you knew them through beomgyu or not, they truly did care about you and that much was evident.

the three of you ate for the first time in a long time that night. all smiles; filling in each other on the ins and outs, the whats and all about. they stuck to their word. being there with you as friends; not a peep about beomgyu.

you were able to sleep well that night.

//

the next day, your daily routine continues from morning of leaving to work until the time you return. you’ve done the same cycle that sometimes you’re on autopilot; getting to work, clocking in, heading to your cubicle, seeing what you need to do throughout the day, grab lunch, then a snack, after that continue to work until you can clock out. today is no different... except when you reach home, there’s a guy standing outside your apartment complex.

just as you walk past and intend to scan yourself in, a voice breaks you away from what you were about to do–”yah... it’s only been a few months and now you don’t know me anymore?"

you look over your shoulder to the source of the voice, squinting your eyes when he’s clad in a black cap, leather jacket and black jeans–he might as well be a shadow for all you know. he tips his chin up and lifts his cap to let you get a good glimpse of his eyes. the glow of the lamppost illuminating his features for you to see that it’s–”jun...”

he gives you a small wave with that gummy smile of his.

“long time no see.”

//

"funny,” he starts off, “it feels like you broke up with all of us,” yeonjun says, his voice reaching you softly but surely in the quiet of the night. from your apartment, you obliged when he asked you to walk with me? and you can’t reject him when he came all the way from his dorm, probably after practice just to see you. he offered his arm for the taking, allowing you to link arms and he steals your bag to hold as the two of you mindlessly made your way to a park nearby.

that’s how you two ended up on a bench.

“it does feel that way,” you chuckle, shaking your head. you glance at him, seeing how he does the same when he senses you doing so, “i miss you guys, though.”

“feeling’s mutual.”

a shared sigh.

“i just couldn’t bring myself to–”

“you don’t have to explain yourself,” he cuts you off, letting out a soft tsk after. “we understand. i understand. i would’ve done the same thing if i were you. hell, i bet beoms would’ve done it way faster if he was in your shoes.”

“still keeping up with spreading the slander, huh?”

"it’s the only reason for my existence,” he winks at you, earning himself a laugh from you. the beautiful thing about yeonjun and beomgyu’s friendship beyond their group was how they had this playful banter. beneath that, there’s this root of respect and protection they have for one another, even if it may seem absolutely manic at times.

“i heard soobin and kai met up with you the other day,”

“yeah... it was nice seeing them,” you lightly bump shoulders with him, “nice seeing you too.”

he scoffs a laugh, “duh, don’t need to tell me that.”

“augh, cocky,” you snort, crossing your arms.

he makes a sound like he’s offended, hand to his chest. the two of you glance at each other and share a laugh... but you’re not stupid. you know yeonjun’s here for another reason and it’s clear when he pulls out something from his sling bag. a book, one that looks familiar and–”here,” he places it on your lap, then he puts his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

unfolding your arms, you hold onto the book, noticing the name choi beomgyu scribbled on the cover; like some high-schooler’s notebook. you eye it curiously but break away from it to look at yeonjun, who refuses to look at you.

“i found it in my bag when i clearing out my luggage and... i figured you should have a look. return it to him when you’re done, okay?”

he sees your hesitance, especially when you try to give it back but he makes you hold onto it, giving you a couple of nods of reassurance.

“what’s worse than what you’ve already went through?”

well... he wasn’t wrong.

“shall we go get ramen?” is the next thing he asks, as if he didn’t just give you a bomb to diffuse on your own. “i think there was a convenience store nearby, right? down the block?”

yeonjun turns to look at you when he doesn’t hear a response and tries not to laugh at your expression, the mix between what the fuck? and what is wrong with you? nevertheless, you shove the book in your bag and get up. then, you start walking, to which he gets up hastily to match your pace with a grin when–”you’re paying!”

//

curiosity gets the best of you that night.

you’ve showered, clad in just a shirt and shorts as you sit on the bed, blanket to your hip with the book on your lap. with shaky fingers, you open it and initially, it doesn’t make any sense... until the more you read, the more you can decipher the words and the dates that correspond with the time during your break with beomgyu.

they’re lyrics.

something kai said a couple of days ago echo in your mind: hyung never stopped loving you. even on tour, he keeps writing these cheesy lines–

you don’t process them as lyrics when the memories flicker through like a film in a rose-tinted film. the first time he asked you out, under a dingy lamppost near your apartment. the day you two kissed at the park underneath a tree in the middle of the night. one of the worst argument you had when you found out he was leaving for tour not from him, but from soobin. it felt like a domino chain of one memory after another, you barely make it halfway to realise yeonjun’s intentions of making you read this.

not for your artistic visions of approving beomgyu’s lyrics, but for recognising that you’re all he writes about during a time you thought he didn’t love you anymore. his feelings bare on the pages, bleeding through the ink of his pen as he writes about the insecurities of not being able to fulfil a partner’s wishes when he’s not even here most of time. how could i compare to someone else when i’m not even there? i’m like a ghost, your ghost, wandering and searching for your love, wondering when you’ll leave me when you know it’s easier to do it when i’m not around.

the realisation is relieving as it is painful. painfully overwhelming. you felt sad that he felt this way, then angry that he didn’t tell you about this, then happy that he was telling the truth all along. you were all beomgyu’s ever loved, love, still loves. it’s making your head spin, your mind blurry; it’s a clusterfuck of emotions you can’t comprehend. he should’ve told me. why didn’t he tell me? why did you suffer all alone? you only realise you’re crying when you can’t see things clearly, your chest heavy, breathing is more difficult when it feels like your mouth is being stuffed with cotton.

your phone buzzes by your bedside table and it’s...

[beoms 🐯] hey, you still awake? 🙇‍♂️ [12:42a.m.]

you push the book to the side and you hastily reach for your phone. with wet fingers, you don’t know what you press in the midst of trying to blink away the tears rapidly filling your eyes but the second you hear beomgyu’s voice echoing from the speaker, it makes your heart stop. unwittingly, you’ve tapped to call him and whether it’s an honest mistake or a nudge from fate, you’ll take it.

carefully, you put the phone to your ear, rubbing your nose with the back of your hand.

"please, answer me. are you okay? is something wrong?” the way he sounds worried makes your stomach churn, the butterflies roaming free like they once did; like they always did. it becomes clear; his intentions, his mistake. “g-gyu...” you try your best to contain yourself but it’s like he always knows; the tremble in your voice, the soft sniffs.

“ba–”he stops himself before his old habit kicks in, clearing his throat, “y/n, a-are you crying? what’s wrong?”

you inhale and intend to answer but a soft sob escapes instead. your hands are shaking and you can’t even hold your phone properly. the lack of response from you is all it takes for him to tell you to–”i’m coming over. i’ll be there in ten minutes. don’t hang up, okay?”

you hear rummages from his end as you sink in the bed, pulling your legs up and attempt to shrink against the headrest as you keep your phone to your ear. the line grows quiet on the other end and then it’s a couple of thuds and the sounds of his breath against the microphone that indicates he’s plugged in his earphones.

“t-talk to me. let me hear your voice, please.”

“i... i read your notebook,” your voice is soft, but beomgyu catches all the syllables.

the quietness from him dissolves when you hear the sounds of the outside world welcoming him. then the sounds of his clothes ruffling against the wind tells you he’s running.

“what notebook?” he asks mindlessly, trying to keep you talking so he knows you’re on the line with him. that you’re safe. that when he reaches you, he knows you’re still at where he thinks you’re are.

“the one you took on tour.”

you hear him stop running when his sneakers screech loud enough for you to hear. then it’s his soft panting, the slow realisation hitting his nerves.

“how–why did you read it?”

“because i didn’t trust you.”

beomgyu remains quiet and you’re squeezing your phone so hard, it feels like it’s going to shatter. your eyes are closed, snapped shut with the tears still trailing down your face but now’s a good time as any to tell him how you really felt during your few days of trying to process things.

“how could i believe you when you broke up with me? months later you show up at my door telling me you never stopped loving me and i’m supposed to believe it right away?” beomgyu remains by the sidewalk, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop himself from speaking. his hands, clench to fists in the pockets of his hoodie as he listens with a bated breath.

“i never doubted you for a second when we were together but the moment you broke up with me, i started questioning everything. i jumped to my own conclusions because that’s all i was left with,” the sounds of you crying grows evident when beomgyu can hear how hard you’re trying to breathe. the imagery of you crying, possibly curling up all alone is what gets him to start walking again, picking up the pace as he pins out the route to your place in his mind.

“i-i’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head, blinking away the tears, “we’ll talk when i’m there, okay? just please stay on the line with me.”

you didn’t. not because you didn’t want to but because you can’t let him hear the cries that leave your mouth the more you process the words he’s written in the pages of his notebook. and that only made beomgyu run faster to get to where you are.

//

beomgyu’s partially breathless as he stands in front of your door, knocking on your door frantically. “y/n!” he calls out, giving the door a few more knocks, impatient with each thump of his chest that reminded him of how fast he’s sprinted to get here. he doesn’t let up until the door opens so when it starts to creak open and–”y/n...” he mumbles under his breath, still trying to breathe right but then he sees the notebook in your possession, along with... with the...–”promise me you’ll wear it?” beomgyu huffs, holding his pinky out with a familiar looking ring on his finger. you chuckle and hold out your pinky to lock it with his, a matching ring on your finger as well, “of course.”–beomgyu’s brought back to the present when you extend your arm out, seemingly returning his notebook.

he catches his breath, shaking his head as he peels the book from your fingers, “h-how did you get this?”

“jun gave it to me earlier,” you murmur, quietly, voice strained and beomgyu hates it. hates how you look like you’ve been crying so much your eyes are puffed up, your nose sounds like it’s blocked and how your fingers tremble–smudged with black ink–gripping yourself for support. 

“why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, to which it seems like the question to what you’re referring to pops up like a haunting in his mind through the time you’ve spent apart; the thing that keeps him up all night since he’s made his mistake. truthfully, he only considered it for a fleeting moment before it disappeared, committing fully to a decision that broke his heart and yours combined.

“i-i didn’t know how,” he sounds helpless, the crack in his voice is what causes him to break, “i thought–”he swallows”–i truly thought...”his breathing grows shallow as he inhales through his quivering lips, his voice drowning in his emotions surfacing, tears pooling in his eyes.

”...i thought i wasn’t the one for you–”beomgyu lets go of the book, allowing it to thud onto the floor as he steps in. the door closes behind him and everything fades to black the second he enters your arms that welcome him in.

he’s still suppressing his emotions to his best ability; as if in some twisted way, he thinks he can still bottle it in. holding up a front. sticking his chest out. what gets him to crack is when he feels your hand running through his hair–like you’ve always did–the feeling of the silver band on your pinky, lightly grazing his scalp that it breaks his entire façade.

the promises weaving through each stroke–i love you, gyu. he feels your fingers–you love me. tangled between his hair–i’m here. your fingers glide down, resting by the nape of his neck–i’m not going anywhere. he feels you, the soft squeeze you give by his neck and he can breathe–you’re okay. beomgyu clutches onto you like a lifeline, his face buried in your neck as he cries, quietly. then, it grows louder with the agony he’s held in his chest thinking he was doing what was best for you, for us. the pain he’s carried alone, the weight of his thoughts burying him so far deep he hadn’t thought of allowing them to resurface but it all comes out; overflowing before he can restrict them at the feeling of you in his arms.

god only knows how long you two stay like that. until either of your breathing evens out. until the tears dry up and you two no longer have running noses. the air around you, though heavy, feels lighter than it was a few days ago. it’s more... calming, if it made sense. the tension that felt thick, seemed to have filtered out and all that’s left is–”i love you,” beomgyu whispers, his hands cradling your face past the tears that have dried up on his face. his nose, slightly red from all the crying and his eyes are slightly puffy but his emotions shine the brightest.

you’re no different. even when there are bags of emotions lining the under of your eyes, your nose seemingly blocked with damp cheeks, beomgyu’s able to see your eyes just as clear as day. the fogginess of uncertainty has faded away; washed by the tears. the clench in your chest has loosened, screamed and released through the cries you two shared earlier. it’s ugly, it’s painful, but that’s still love.

“i love you,” you whisper back; and this time, beomgyu felt it. you felt it. the two of you did. although certain puzzle pieces are left askew, the right ones are finally, finally back in place.

//

an hour later, the two of you snuggle on the sofa with cups of tea on the table. beomgyu embarrassingly has to explain the lyrics upon lyrics he’s written and braves himself to tell you what he’s felt during his time apart. the setting allows you to speak of how you felt, your thoughts, your conclusions; and he rebukes each one just as you soothe every insecurity he brings up. it won’t go away immediately and beomgyu knows–you know–it’ll take some time for him to prove to you each day he truly loves you but it’s... it’s a start.

it’s a start to loving each other again. 

that’s all beomgyu could’ve hoped for and he’s got it.

a moment passes and now you’re curled up in his arms, resting your heads on one end of the sofa with your legs intertwined to the opposing end. beomgyu feels your heartbeat thumping against his chest as you rest on one of his arms, curled up slightly so he can play with your hair as he looks at you.

the redness in your eyes has subsided, your nose no longer blocked and you can breathe right. he feels freer, lighter, as if all is right now that he has you in his arms like this. without anything being hidden from you; the truth bare as his eyes gaze into yours.

"if you hide anything like this from me again, i’m going to strangle you myself,” your voice is soft and calm, in total contrast with your words that it makes him chuckle. for the first time in a while, he laughs as it comes from his gut; pure happiness bubbling from within and escaping in the beautiful sounds of his laughter. he nods and leans in, lightly brushing his forehead on yours, “i think i’d die first before you get the chance.”

that makes you laugh with him; quietly, at ease. feeling the security like you did before the rocky bump ever occurred. you let your eyes close as you scoot closer to him. he welcomes the way your arms sneak beneath the sofa to curl around his waist so you can snuggle him.

“can i stay the night?” he murmurs into your ear, and he doesn’t need to look to know you feel offended when he feels the way your body tenses for a split second. “you’re asking?”

he snorts, shifting his arms around you so he’s able to cocoon you in as he kisses the side of your head, refusing to look at you as he slowly succumbs to sleep with his announced decision of: “i’m staying the night.”

you smile against his neck and he feels it. more so when he hears the confirmation echoing into his ears softly.

“much better.”

as the night treads along, two steady heartbeats beating as one, beomgyu feels his heart resting at ease in the presence of yours. not all is rainbow and sunshines, nor will the scars mask over easily over the course of the coming days but... but–”goodnight, beomie.”

good nights are ahead of him as long as he had you in them.

((the boys wake up to a small commotion, ushering them out of their rooms to see what it’s all about. it was nearing midday and most of them were about to wake up anyway, but this... this definitely beats any morning call whatsoever.

they stand a distance away, four boys watching how you and beomgyu are trying to set up the dining table with takeaway food, an array of balloons that get none of the work done since you two keep swatting it at each other and a cake that takes the centrefold. 

“well what do you know,” taehyun muses quietly, shaking his head as he leans against yeonjun, “guess you’ll never let this die, huh?”

yeonjun holds his hands out to receive the soft high-fives, “i’ll take all the credit.”

//

the surprise might’ve been ruined considering the four of them quite literally watched the two of you set it up but it was well-received (as it always does with the boys and food–). it feels like things were back in place; as if the boys had gained a friend again after being cut off for a couple of months. the pieces reconnected itself and stories upon sparks of memories fill in over a rerun on the television and all of you huddled up on the sofa, on the floor, circling the coffee table.

as you have your feet over beomgyu’s lap, you’re immersed in a conversation with taehyun (who the rest berated for not seeing you but he’s quick to defend himself saying he just wanted to give you some space and put a fucking sock it in, huening!) about what he found fascinating throughout the tour. 

with beomgyu’s directly in front of yeonjun who sits on the sofa behind him, it gives the older a perfect clear in to hover over beomgyu’s shoulder with a poke to the cheek, "beoms,”

“hm?” the latter nonchalantly glances over.

“i mean this in the nicest way possible,” he murmurs, ”if you breakup with y/n again, i will never, never forgive you.”

beomgyu snorts and shoves him away playfully, eliciting a laugh from the older... but he doesn’t miss the way the younger whispers i won’t ever forgive myself, either. while yeonjun made it his mission statement to make sure beomgyu never forgets this, it feels like he succeeded with what he was intending when he sees how beomgyu looks at you adoringly; the light has returned in his eyes and it... it was nice.

fine, yeonjun won’t tease beomgyu about it... yet.))

[ad1thi]

stevetony recs you won't see on other rec lists

I've (surprisingly) been reading a lot of stevetony lately, and have come across a couple of gems that i feel are vastly under-appreciated, and wanted to show them some love. Obviously, the title is a misnomer because maybe you have seen these on other rec lists, but it's clickbait okay !! Don't forget to leave kudos and comments, if you like what you've read !!

No Trait As Much As This : @kandisheek-art

Tony gets hit with truth serum. It's a terrible time for everyone.

the year you were mine : @areiton

The night that changes his life forever, Steve is on a date with another man. Or: Steve is a pricy escort and Tony buys him for a year. Neither of them are doing this for love.

Meant : @ardett

What Steve meant when he asked out Tony was very different than what Tony meant when he said yes.

One Last Second Chance : @/Muccamukk

Tony Stark, second newest engineer at Rhodes Labs International, is just trying to rebuild from the ruins of his failed company, vanished fortune, and struggles with alcoholism. His goals include keeping his head down, avoiding stress and convincing Dr. Rhodes to let him build a really cool robot, so why does the universe keep throwing Avengers in his path?

Not just a river in Egypt (Tony is most certainly not in denial) : @lilgideon

"You are most definitely not in love with me, Cap, what you are experiencing is called cabin pressure," Tony explains, because he has a rational train of thought and he's met enough shrinks to have figured out their tactics by now. "And possibly, you know, sexual frustration, because it doesn't matter at all that you're, like, America's national icon, Fury still won't let you out. I know that, I see that, I acknowledge your pain, I feel with you, Cap, believe me, I do. And I get it, because I am a very good-looking fellow and we spend a lot of time together, stuck in this tower, and it's easy to--" "I am," Steve cuts off, equal parts amused and frustrated and concerned. "In love. With you. Tony, I'm in love with you."

then sirens, then bells (the broadcast remix) : @isozyme

“I tire of this,” Amora says, and with a casual gesture the entire team is pinned in place, frozen in mid-air. Steve has the unsettling, half-familiar feeling of someone rifling through his head like it’s a card catalogue. A mind-reader as well as a witch, then. A female voice whispers into his mind’s ear. It’s very tragic in here, dearheart, but I think your armored friend is, somehow, more psychically toxic than even you. What’s wrong with Tony? Steve thinks, but the presence is gone, leaving his memories of war stirred up like flying insects rising off a lake in at dawn.

The Enchantress opens Tony's mind to anyone and everyone near him. Steve knows he should let Tony keep his secrets, but he's not noble enough to stay away

The Twice-Told Tale : @arysteia

For someone he'd hero-worshipped for so long, Steve Rogers in the flesh is a pretty big disappointment. For one thing, he keeps looking at Tony as though he reminds him of someone else, and even if he never says anything, Tony's pretty sure it's his father. A lifetime of not measuring up to Howard's expectations is more than enough, thank you very much, and he's certainly not going to make an effort to live up to any of Steve's. Steve's pretty clearly failed to live up to his expectations, in any case, and that's not hypocritical at all.

i'm going too far (just to have you near) : @/zaynerpaner

“Rhodey, why did you leave me here?” Tony demands. The voice on the other line doesn't sound exactly like Rhodey’s – in fact, it sounds like he’d woken somebody up, which couldn’t be right since Rhodey had been here with him earlier. “Who is this?” the voice speaks again, and – it’s too deep. Rhodey’s voice isn’t that deep. “Rhodey? It’s Tony, m’phone’s dead and I need you to pick me up,” he tries again, frowning as he leans against the bar. “Uh, I think you have the wrong number.” OR the one where Tony drunk calls the wrong number looking for a ride home from the bar, and Steve comes to pick him up.

Living In The Future : @/Closer

Eighteen-year-old Tony Stark is the boy genius who woke Captain America, and now he's stuck with him. That's not a bad thing, but between Steve's wide-eyed wonder at the new world and Tony's little fanboy crush, the awkwardness just keeps happening.

if we ever meet again : @/anonymous

"It’s been two months," Steve says, voice low. "Rhodey- Colonel. It’s been two months.”

[heystephen]

2023 swiftie survey results!

first of all, i want to thank everybody who took part in this and helped spread it to increase sample size. i put this together expecting to get 200 or so responses, but at the time of closing the survey, it had received 1,009 responses! so that's really awesome. the survey posed the following questions:

which era did you become a fan?

which album is your favorite?

what are your top three songs from each album?

what is your absolute favorite song by taylor?

i asked those questions for a few reasons. one being, i wondered if nostalgia plays a factor in peoples' favorite albums, or if people tend to favor the album related to the era that they became a fan. i also wondered what the true fan favorites of the albums could be, and what are the 'underrated' or lower tiered tracks. lastly, every so often a publication comes out with their own rankings of 'the best taylor swift songs of all time' and we all lose our minds because they're always so!! wrong!!!! so i wanted to see what it would look like if there was a swiftie-sourced list of favorite songs by her. anyway intro aside, here's the results below the cut, and brace yourselves!

NOTE: i couldn't find a way on google doc to change the colors on the pie charts otherwise i would've made them album color coded. i will also provide small descriptions of the data for those who have trouble reading the data from the charts, or can't see the images.

so it looks like most people became fans during the fearless era, which is just nearly tied with the debut era. the 1989 era comes in third, followed by speak now, red, folklore/evermore, reputation, lover and then midnights in that order.

the most popularly voted album for the favorite albums was folklore. speak now came in second place, then reputation in third. the rest of the albums came out ranked as evermore, then 1989, then lover, then midnights, then fearless, then the debut. yes, the debut has a teeny tiny little pie slice between midnights and fearless, it's really there if you squint.

the top 3 debut tracks were our song, should’ve said no and picture to burn. the most unpopular debut track was the pop remix of teardrops on my guitar. not too surprising although i thought stay beautiful was more of a fan fave than that.

the top 3 fearless tracks were the way i loved you, fearless and you belong with me. the most unpopular fearless track was superstar. (☹️) but shout out to my sweet baby hey stephen for doing better than i hoped!

the top 3 speak now tracks were long live, haunted and enchanted. this was maybe the most surprising one because i expected last kiss to be in the top 3! the most unpopular speak now track was superman.

the top 3 tracks for red were all too well (ten minute version), holy ground and state of grace. the last time came out more popular than i anticipated, while sad beautiful tragic didn’t quite get as much love as i thought it would. the most unpopular red track was run feat. ed sheeran, with just 8 votes. but again, it just proves that every song is beloved by someone.

so for 1989, the top 3 tracks were clean, style and new romantics. the most unpopular track was bad blood. i think this was pretty expected, people tend to gravitate toward the remix rather than the album version. over all, this one came out fully as i’d expect.

oh, getaway car. you never let the rest of the tracks on this album stand a chance in the running. the top tracks for reputation were getaway car by a mile, call it what you want and delicate. again, another interesting one. has call it what you want always been this popular? and of course, the most unpopular track was end game feat. future and ed sheeran.

just like getaway car, cruel summer absolutely jumped in the lead and took off running. the top 3 tracks for lover were cruel summer, death by a thousand cute and cornelia street. the archer also came out very popular and i think the tour performance has lended enormously to that, which i love. the most unpopular track was me! feat. brendon urie.. which i feared would happen :/

just like james, you guys couldn’t choose between august and betty, ‘cause the top two tracks for folklore were august and cardigan! my tears ricochet came in third place. the most unpopular folklore track was epiphany.

CONT. IN PART TWO DUE TO IMAGE LIMIT

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest [3] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: While Kylian lets jealousy get the best of him on the pitch, you find that a tequila-filled night might be the answer to healing your broken heart... even if it's just for one night.

Warnings: Still just absolute angst. Missing your ex, Kylian being overprotective and jealous, Erling Haaland being a dick (i'm sorry it's purely for plot purposes), heavy drinking, self destructive behavior, cussing, bad cheese puns, let me know if I missed anything! — English is not my first language —

The breakup was bound to go public sooner or later. It was surprising you made it almost seven weeks before the media got the hold of the story. You both were spotted alone on separate sides of town too many times, you’d missed all of his matches, and E!News got a source that told them you live alone now. You have a strong hunch it’s your next door neighbor that’s always lingering by the stairs. She asks entirely too many questions.

While you were still with Kylian, your relationship was kept mostly private and you rarely found yourself in any headlines. But, lord knows, if there’s anything the press loves more than a celebrity engagement is a celebrity breakup. When you saw a graphic of your face and Kylians face photoshopped onto a broken heart on Snapchat, a clickbait title asking, “did our fav football couple call it quits?”, you knew you’d be getting some unwanted attention. Fuck you, Daily Mail. Mind your business.

You clearly remember agreeing with him to wait for you to text first, but he’s a damn liar. He didn’t let a day go by before sending you a sweet good morning text. For the past three weeks, he’s been sending little messages here and there. Nothing too risqué or anything that made you feel pressure… they were actually nice. You’d been pretty good at not responding, being occupied doing absolutely anything else to stop yourself from thinking about him.

Kylian knew this. Being with you for such a long time, he understood how you got when you didn’t want to think about something. When your family dog passed, you claimed you were fine over and over again, and he just had to let you hyper fixate on new random hobbies until your feelings eventually exploded out. You taught yourself claymation, knitting, refurbishing old creepy dolls… that was definitely his least favorite. He needed to make sure you didn’t force yourself to forget about him, he wanted to be there for you when you were ready. He’s patience is usually very thin, but he’s impressed with himself for staying (mostly) zen about you not responding. He had to. He couldn’t fuck this up again and come swinging with the ‘I love you’s that he types out and erases promptly.

It’s finally Friday and you just finished a late lunch at your favorite café near your office, just listening to music on your headphones and reading through a document you were about to send to your colleagues. Your phone buzzed with a message from Kylian and, of course, you clicked the notification. You always did.

He’d sent you a picture of a decorative board at some market with a cheese-remix of the song Sweet Dreams by the Eurythmics. You immediately laughed out loud, having seen this exact sign before with Kylian years ago. For weeks after, you two sang the lyrics randomly around the house, in the car, pretty much anywhere until all of your friends were begging for you two to just shut the fuck up.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese, who am I to dissa-brie, I’ve travelled the world and the feta cheese, everybody’s lookin’ for stilton.

Your fingers began to respond before you even had a chance to really think about it.

(Y/N): Not this shit again

Kylian smiled widely upon seeing that you sent something back, typing back in record speeds.

Kylian: I think it’s…….. grate

You actually smiled at his horrible pun, twirling your hair against your own will.

(Y/N): very cheesy

Kylian was so quick to look up more cheese puns, not wanting to let his roll come to an end. Any communication, even about cheese, worked for him.

Kylian: it’s very gouda to hear from you again :)

“Oh, man.” You mumbled to yourself, noticing how your heart rate increased with just a couple of his really really bad jokes.

God, you missed him so much.

You stood up, leaving the conversation there, gathering your things and turning up the music. Yet, the whole walk back it was impossible to focus on whatever was playing in your ears because of the louder song playing inside your head. Sweet dreams are made of cheese…

Kylians thumb was lodged between his teeth in anticipation, but soon realized you weren’t going to respond again. Lowly cursing to himself, he threw his phone back in his locker. Everyone was prepared for todays game against Manchester City, especially Kylian. He wanted to win so bad, it almost felt like the World Cup.

He knew who he was going to play against — Erling Haaland. If he wasn’t too fond of him before, finding out he hit on you on you brewed a different kind of determination to win inside of him. You said nothing happened that night and he believed you — but he knew that Haaland had more in mind than just a nice conversation. He noticed last week that he followed you on instagram and liked all of your recent pictures, not including the ones with him. As of last night, you still didn't follow him back. Those late night stalking sessions have to stop soon. His nutritionists is really getting on his ass for finishing entire jars of peanut butter every other day.

He wondered if you were going to watch the game or if you had been since you left. He really hoped you hadn’t been. He’s been playing horribly these past weeks. Once the news of your breakup went public, every commentator made a point of mentioning it and saying stupid shit like, “life goes on, and that’s something Kylian Mbappé is going to have to figure out sooner or later.”

He let his angry thoughts fuel him as he walked into the tunnel. He tried to get his head in the game, but couldn’t help looking back every so often to the opposing team next to them, eyes always landing on the tall blonde man.

He stood in his place, but his neck twisted back against his will, not really caring if he was being too obvious. Right before the teams were meant to walk out together, Haaland caught his death glares. Kylian doubled down, making sure he wouldn’t be the one to lose this immature staring contest. Holland cracked a shit-eating grin and winked at Mbappé.

Oh, the rage… keep it in, Kylian.

He looked away with an unbothered “pft.” It wasn’t very convincing, not even to himself.

After the usual opening ceremony, the whistle blew indicating that the match had begun, sending Kylian sprinting in every direction as the game progressed. ManCity was good, but he knew PSG was better. He kept telling himself this, but his teammates continued to mess up, even allowing the light-blue motherfuckers to score the opening goal not even twenty minutes into the first half. And, of course, it was Haaland that buried the ball deep in the back of the net. He watched him celebrate on his pitch, listening to the crowd cheer their chant, feeling tortured and helpless.

His eye was fixed on the Norwegian as he moved back into the starting position, hating that he was laughing, still on a high from scoring. Hakimi walked next to Kylian, feeling that his friend is on the brink of doing something very dumb. His hand patted his shoulder, but Kylian didn’t even notice it, his entire body twitching with jealously.

When Kylian was in earshot, Haaland nodded up at him. “Kylian.” The young player called, but Kylian just side eyed him. Hakimi grabbed his shoulders tighter just in case he tried anything. “(Y/N) is up for grabs now, no?”

Kylians ears rung as he felt himself launch at Erling who just laughed. Hakimi had gotten in front of him without missing a beat, roughly shoving him in the opposite direction to keep him from beating up the 22 year old. Other PSG players joined, guiding Kylian to his position.

He didn’t even know words were coming out of his mouth at this point, pointing his finger threateningly at Erling. “Don’t fucking talk about her. I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?” He was well aware that this was all to get in his head but, shit. It’s working. Kylian didn’t even notice that the referee was being talked down by Neymar and Messi, eventually the confrontation getting waved off with a warning at the start of a new play.

Halftime rolled around and no one scored again. In the locker room, Glatier yelled and waved his arms, demanding that the defense get their shit together. He zoned out, too deep in thought about what an asshole that guy is and how he wants to score and rub it in his face. He was brought back when he heard his name grumbling out of his coaches mouth, having no idea what the topic even was.

“Sorry?” He embarrassingly piped up, seeing all of his teammates had their eyes on him.

Glatier grunted, stomping closer to him. “I said, get your shit together!”

“Yes, coach.”

“Don’t worry about what they say. Just go out there and play like I know you can. You want to win, don’t you?”

“I do, coach.”

“Then let’s fucking win.”

Glatier was right and he knew it. Whatever that stupid hulk-boy had to say about you was only getting under his skin. He couldn’t play at his best like that.

So, when the second half started and he heard him say some bullshit again, he did his best to let it roll off his back. “You think she’ll respond if I DM her?” Erling asked nonchalantly to Álvarez, but Kylian was determined to let it slide. Let it fucking slide.

But, he didn’t stop there. When walking by him, Haaland asked him, “What’s a good spot to take her? Nothing too far, my hotel room is around here.” Kylians fists were balled in rage, biting his cheek and blowing air out of his flared nostrils.

“You better shut your goddamn mouth.” He snapped back, but continued walking away, knowing he can’t let him win. Hearing Haalands taunting chuckles behind him almost made him whip back around, but Neymar wrapped his arm securely around his shoulder, forcing him to look forward.

“It’s just talk, Kylian. Come on.” He rubbed his head roughly as if to beg him to not let it get to him before running back into position.

The game progressed, only ten minutes left of the second half before overtime. Neymar was at the left side of the field, preparing himself for a corner kick. Kylian searched for an opening that could potentially bring a scoring opportunity, but a brooding shadow seemed to follow him everywhere. Haaland was aggressively playing defense against him, his height advantage making it impossible for Kylian to move somewhere better.

“I hope she wears something nice and tight.” Erling chortled through his tired breathing. “I’ve been waiting for you to mess things up with her. I’ve had my eye on her for months… She’s so hot.”

His mind went blank, completely blank. It must have, because he didn’t remember shoving Haaland down onto the pitch, fists pulling back. He was seeing red, but his teammates dragged him off before his punch could land right on his cheek. Before he knew it, the ManCity players were charging at PSG. The whistle blew about a dozen times as the crowd got louder.

Kylian couldn’t stop trying to shake off his friends, screaming past the wall of light blue toward the blonde man on the ground pretending to be seriously injured, clutching his arm.

“Say that again! I fucking dare you!” Kylian threatened, Ramos clinging onto his shoulders, walking backwards.

He was pushed away far from the scene as his whole team began to fight with the other players in solidarity, the referee preoccupied with calming down the situation.

He was for sure already getting a red card, so his mindset was fuck it. He sprinted around the fighting crowd who immediately recognized his intentions, getting back in front of him before he could reach Haaland to really do some damage.

“Stay the hell away from her. I’ll end you, you son of a bitch. Off this pitch, I swear to god you’re dead.” Kylian talked out of his ass, already walking himself off the pitch when the referee held up a red card. He waved him off, spiting on the grass as he made his way back through the tunnel, ignoring the coaching team screaming at him altogether.

ManCity ended up winning 2-0 and Kylians suspension was decided to extend for two matches. He didn’t watch the remainder of it, but when he found out Erling Fucking Haaland scored the other goal, it felt like the knife was twisted. Fuck that guy. The press conference after was hell, having to claim that he deeply regretted his actions and that this doesn’t reflect his character or whatever his PR team wrote up for him.

He truly did feel like a dumbass. He absolutely hated how much he let those comments affect him. He knew he should’ve just blocked it out but how was he going to let him say that stuff about you? The way he talked about you like you weren’t even a person, like you weren’t the love of his life. Sure, he felt like a dumbass, but he would defend you to the ends of the earth.

He got home to his empty house, throwing himself on his sofa, flipping on ESPN to watch basketball highlights. Eventually, he drifted off to sleep. Usually, he’s opposed to naps as they throw off his sleeping schedule, but recently he’d found them comforting; an easy escape from everything going on. Besides, his sleep schedule was already bonkers from the breakup.

He swears his eyes were only shut for five minutes, but he woke up to complete darkness. His TV even timed out, neck sore from the stiff throw pillows supporting his head, groaning so loudly that it echoed inside the vacant home. It was only when he picked up his phone to check the time that he realized you were even calling. The faint buzzing was probably what woke him up.

“Shit.” He shot up, wiping the sleep from his face as he answered quickly.

He cleared his groggy throat. “Hello?”

He faintly heard you saying his name, but the music in the back was pounding. “Kyyyyks!”

He laughed to himself, loving the sound of his nickname for the first time since your breakup. “Hello? (Y/N)? Are you drunk?”

“Hold on.” He heard you yell from the other line as the music got softer in the background. “Hellooo.” You giggled.

“Hi.” He giggled back.

“I woke you up.” He could hear the pout in your voice, having to bite his lip to keep his smile from getting ridiculous.

“No, no I don’t mind. Call me anytime.” Kylian began twirling his hoodie string on his forefinger. “Are you okay?”

You nod, but he can’t hear you. Your drunk brain didn’t catch up. “I think so.”

“You think so? Where are you?” Concerned, he looked at the time. A little past 3:30 am. Damn, long ass nap.

“Umm…” You paused to look around you, seeing no signs anywhere and finding it kind of funny. “I dunno. I lost them ages ago.”

“Them?”

“Yeah, my friends.”

He stood up. “Wait, wait. Are you by yourself?”

“Mhm!” You chirped, now walking away from the club, alone. Your skin-tight tights gave you no warmth at all, but the tequila that flushed your system had you covered. “Kyks…”

“Yeah?” He waited for you to say something, his concern for you growing, wishing he still had your location so he could go look for you.

You paused, looking around the dark streets. “I mi…” your sentence drifted off and you laughed off what you were about to say. “… I’m so drunk.” You stumbled further down the street, a loud club with red lights oozing from the entrance peaking your interest.

He knew what you were about to say, but wasn’t going to push it. “I can hear that. Do you need a ride? I can come get you right now, just send me your current location.”

“No, I’m fine! Look, I found somewhere safe!” You point, even though he couldn’t see. “Oh, my god. You’ll never believe who’s here. Oh, shit.”

“Who?” Kylian asked over the phone.

You giggled. “I don’t wanna tell you, Kyks. You’ll be mad. I saw what happened today during the match.”

He was tempted to quirk a smile hearing that you have been watching, but then it dawned on him. It couldn’t be… “Haaland?”

What are the odds? Erling Haaland stood outside the packed nightclub with a few of his teammates, surrounded by women and men, all trying to get his attention. He hadn’t seen you yet.

“Oh my god, you’re such a good guesser.” You clapped. “God, I forgot how tall he was.”

He grabbed his keys, putting his shoes on, holding the phone up to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around his home. “Please just let me come pick you up. I’m worried about you, where are you? I’ll take you home.”

You got closer to the LED sign. “It’s called… uh… la petite robe noire… oh my god! That’s what I’m wearing!” You cheered.

He put you on speaker and looked it up. Jesus, you were so far, he wondered if you’d started out around there or if you’d ventured out alone. He revved up his engine, backing out of his driveway. “Stay there, I’m coming. Okay?”

You didn’t respond, your phone now by your side as Erling spotted you, jogging over to where you were standing.

“Hey!” You waved, letting him come to you because your heels hurt too badly. You couldn’t hear Kylian on the other line trying to get your attention.

“Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in and hugged you. You kind of hugged back, too drunk to balance yourself upwards that way without falling into him.

As soon as he heard that fucking accent over the phone, he pressed his foot down on the pedal, hoping he hits every green light in Paris. You, on the other hand, forgot you were still on the line with your ex fiancé, but hung up when you realized it with a giggly “oops!”.

“Didn’t think I’d run into you, how are you, (Y/N)?” Haaland asks, placing a steady hand on your waist to keep your wobbling frame from tipping over.

“So good!” That was a lie. You were out tonight drinking away the pit in your stomach since the match. You’d watched sneakily from your desk, fingers tugging at your roots when you saw the little incident during the first half. During those last ten minutes, you felt like you were going to throw up.

Why did you have to tell Kylian about Erling? What happened today definitely opened him up to a lot of criticism from his coaches, the team, the media… You couldn’t help but feel a little responsible because you knew he could behave himself if he never knew about that night on the balcony. On the other hand, it was kind of… very hot. Jealous Kylian was never your favorite, but you can’t stop yourself from feeling something spark in you. Or maybe you were just horny. Who’s to say? It's been so long...

“You’re good?” Erling accent repeats, grinning down at you. “Sorry to hear about your breakup."

"Pffft." You laugh. "Yeah right, you two were never exactly friends."

He shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're right. I'm not sorry." He smirks, looking you up and down. If your head wasn’t filled with liquor you’d feel kind of gross, but his flirty stares didn’t mean anything to the drunken body you found yourself in tonight. It all went right over your head. He nods his head toward the club. "Come on, let's get you a drink, yeah?"

You followed him in, the lights were blurry and the ground wasn't very stable. The vibrations came up from the ground, making you feel like someone was shaking your brain around. You were absolutely not thinking straight, and it only got worse when a bottle girl came over to the section with Don Julio. It was all so fast, like the lights flashed and you were suddenly with someone else, or in a different part of the club, or dancing, drinking, stumbling.

Fuck, you had to get out of there.

Kylian arrived at the club and he definitely did not fit the dress code. But, despite his grey joggers and Nike hoodie, he was still Kylian Mbappé, so he got in without any issue. Ideally, he wouldn’t have to risk being spotted at a nightclub that Erling Haaland was at, but he did it for you. He politely smiled at his fans but weaved past people begging for a selfie. He called you plenty of times from the car, but you never picked up.

Once inside the club, he lifted his hood and put on some sunglasses, hoping this wouldn't cause a riot without his security to lead him through the crowds. People were too focused on grinding and not spilling their drinks to notice the international superstar frantically searching for one single woman in a sea of them.

He looked up at the sections on the second floor, finally spotting that tall blonde bastard, wasting not a single second before making his way up, security letting him through once he flashed them his famous smile.

"Haaland!" He cups his hands around his mouth, hoping that he knows where you are. "Haaland!"

He finally turns around, knitting his eyebrows at the sight. "Kylian." He steps around the models to stand close to him, the loud music making it impossible to communicate from even a few feet away. "What? You didn't get enough of me on the pitch today?"

Kylian rolls his eyes. "No, man. I'm just looking for (Y/N). I know she was here."

"Yeah, she was." Erling laughed. "She's wild, for sure. Don't know where she went, though."

"What? She's not here?"

Haaland shrugged. "She went to the bathroom and never came back. Why do you even care? Like I said, she's up for grabs. She's not yours anymore."

If he wasn't so worried about your current wellbeing, he would have grabbed his stupid little ponytail and gone full Fight Club on him. But he didn't, instead he shook his head at him and made his way down from the section before he regretted not throwing a punch or two.

His concern grew. He never thought he would wish you were with Erling Haaland at a nightclub, but at least he could find you then.

Kylian stood on a ledge hoping to see your hair or face anywhere from a birds-eye view, but had to leave promptly when the partygoers caught onto his less than great disguise. A security guard from the club lead him to the back exit, warding off flashing cameras in every direction.

Thanking the man when he was safely outside with a fist bump, he walked himself down the dirty metal steps, sighing. "Putain." He walked to is parked car, leaning on it to try and think a little, wondering how he’s going to find you. He really isn’t familiar with this part of town, but he'll stay out all night if he has to.

He wished you’d just pick up the phone, ease his jittery nerves. Just as he was about to click on your contact, he heard some slurred singing further down the alleyway he was in. The faint tune sounded familiar, but the voice definitely was. It was you.

He followed like a siren sound, turning the corner to see you sitting on a small cement step, head resting on your curled up knees, giggling to yourself as you continued the song.

"Sweet cheese are made of cheese, who am I to *hiccup* disa-cheese..."

"I think you've messed up the lyrics there, love." He smiled, letting out a breath he’d been holding now knowing you're okay.

You gaze up, smiling widely, gasping and jolting up, wrapping your loose arms around his neck and letting your legs go limp.

"Woah, hey..." He exclaimed with a laugh, grabbing your torso tightly to keep you upright.

"You're here!" You gaze up, grin wide as he peered down at you, smiling as well. "Whadda coincidence!"

It was like he didn't just spend hours worried sick, now feeling somewhat at ease. Your presence is all he needed for every weight to be lifted off his shoulders. He only cares about making sure you get back home with a glass of water on your nightstand and a trashcan at your side.

"You okay? Why are you out here by yourself?" He guides you to stand properly on your own, but you didn't let your grip go, so he didn't either. He let his hand stay on the small of your back, his other gripping your hip.

You shrug, scratching your fingernails against the nape of his neck. He shivered, goosebumps running down his body, letting a flustered giggle escape his lips. You stared deep into his eyes. Your funny demeanor simmered down, finding the familiar warmth of the man in front of you to be more intoxicating than anything you've drank tonight. "You always loved when I did that..."

Kylian's heart got caught in his throat, gulping it down along with the urge to hold you so tightly. He'd been craving your touch, spending many sleepless nights wondering if he'd ever get to feel you again.

"Let's get you home, okay?" He mumbled, running his hands down your arms to unwrap them from his neck. He held one of your arms as he bent down to grab your phone and purse from the dirty floor.

He started guiding you to his passengers seat, but getting you there wasn’t an easy task. Your heels kept getting caught in the cobblestones so he had to keep a steady hand around you in case you fell. He buckled you up like a toddler, doing his best to ignore the googly eyes that you made at him.

When he got in drivers seat, he looked over at you, a rush of memories making his heart flutter.

All of the times he would turn his gaze away from the road for just a second to see you. The way you smiled when you rode with the windows down, sticking your arm out to feel the rushing wind outside the car. The way he used to be able to put a comforting hand on your thigh while he drove and you'd draw circles on his knuckles mindlessly, rambling about anything that came to your mind. The way you would always unwrap a piece of gum for him because you didn't want him distracted, even though he would never not get distracted by you.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, clearing his throat. "So, what's your address?"

You laughed, taking your heels off. "I dunno."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Geez, Ky. I've only lived there for like..." you counted in your head, but numbers barely made sense sober, "...not that long."

"Do you have it on your phone?" He pried, handing you your cell.

"Yes!" You cheered, snatching it only to see that it was out of battery when the screen reflected back at you. "Ah, man. It's dead!" You pouted, throwing it in the backseat, crossing your arms.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, turning on the heat higher when he noticed the chills running down your arms. "I can take you back to... uh..." he stuttered, having to stop himself from saying our place, still getting used to living there alone, "—back to my place."

You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow dramatically. "Nice try, Casanova." You chuckled.

He laughed too, rubbing his eyes. "No, come on, (Y/N). There's like five beds. I wouldn't take advantage of you like that."

You bite your lip and stare at him through your lashes. "I'd let you."

God, that stare. That tone. He's internally cussing himself out for all those times he told you he wasn't in the mood or too tired. He wished he could go back in time and slap himself.

He quickly shook it off, laughing dryly and having to look away from you. “You are so drunk.”

With that, he put the car in reverse, beginning the half hour journey back to the home that still has pictures of you on the walls. The home that still feels like it’s yours, the one that Kylian prays he’ll see you wake up in again… at a time when you’re not absolutely plastered, of course. For now, he’s content looking over to your sleeping figure in his car, slowly breathing and shifting every so often.

Once he pulled into the garage, he got out and made his way to open the passenger door. “Hey,” he gently put a hand on your cold shoulder, “we’re here, bébé.”

He didn’t mean for the nickname to slip out of his mouth, but it did. It actually woke you up, your heart thumping at the four letters that used to be so familiar to you, so intimate.

“I’m tired.” You grumble, putting your hands out toward him, slightly less drunk, yet nowhere near sober. “I forgot how comfy your car is.”

“Wait ‘till we get you into a real bed. You’re gonna sleep like a rock.” You grabbed his forearms and stumbled out of the car, Kylian quickly grabbing your heels, phone, and purse.

For a drunk, you moved surprisingly fast, beelining to the kitchen. He followed you in, attentive to your wonky steps. He set your belongings down on one of the barstools, turning to see you leaned inside of his fridge, grasping the handles for balance.

“You hungry?” He grins, walking around the kitchen island and leans against it.

“Mm… you got rid of all my snacks…”

“Uh, not true.” He quipped, opening the cupboard and pulling back a red box, the sight bringing a big smile to your face.

“Pancakes?!”

He opens the cabinet bellow him and pulls out a sleek black press, confident smirk spreading to his cheeks. “Waffles.”

You cover your mouth in excitement, stumbling backward a bit but catch yourself on the island. “No way.”

He nods, eyes twinkling at your enthusiasm. You look so pretty in this kitchen. It’s nostalgic. It feels warmer now that you’re back here, even if he’s just pretending to forget that you’ll have to leave in the morning.

“Go sit. They won’t take long.” You do as he says, hopping into a stool as you watch him begin to mix the ingredients in a bowl.

Your mind drifted to the last time you saw him. The way his chin quivered when he cried over you, how much it hurt to tell him you weren't ready and that you may never be. It was still true. In a more clearheaded scenario, you probably wouldn't be here with him right now. If alcohol didn't seem like such an inviting bandaid to your aching mind and heart, the feelings you'd been suppressing would likely have stayed suppressed... where you honestly wanted them to stay. Opening yourself back up to be loved by the same man that made you question yourself was still incredibly scary.

"Bon appétit." He placed the plate in front of you.

The waffle was dusted in powdered sugar, a small butter square in the middle was surrounded by sliced strawberries. "Oh... my... god..." You salivated, picking up the fork and knife he handed you and devoured the first bite, moaning in gratitude. "Oh my god." You had no other words.

Kylian laughed, picking up his own fork to dig into his less pretty waffle, standing across from you. "Yeah?"

He didn't get a verbal response back, but knew you meant it upon seeing the manner in which you inhaled every crumb on your plate. Your late night snack was gone too soon and you wanted more, but your drooping eyes and full bladder convinced you that sleep was better.

Kylian took his last bite, grabbing your plates and setting them in the sink. "I think it's bedtime."

You agreed without saying so, hopping off the stool and took the route to the master bedroom. You could walk there with your eyes closed and you might as well have. The sleep deprivation mixed with your drunkenness lead you straight to the dresser, opening up the top chest on your side to grab a t-shirt.

When your crossed eyes looked down at the empty drawer, it was sobering. You let out a shakey breath, clasping your hands in front of you. "Right..."

Kylain stood by the door, frowning at your stillness. The small window of bliss he had with you just seconds earlier shattered upon seeing your sorrowful face looking down at the drawer that used to contain your things, now containing nothing but memories of what used to be.

Silently, he walked over to you, gently shutting it for you. He opened up his side, handing you one of the shirts you left folded for him. One of your favorites. "Here."

You give him an attempt of a smile but don't actually look at him. "Thanks."

He goes to leave the room but you stop him. "Wait. Where are you going? I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. I'm not taking your bed."

"No, please. You just get some rest, okay?" He almost whispers, taking in the sight of you standing in this room again before he went to close the door.

"Ky?" You breathe, locking your eyes on his. There was something you wanted to say, some words your throat closed up on, leaving you with nothing else but silence. He stayed still, his adoration for you threatening to spill out of him the longer he stared at you. You draw a subtle breath upon feeling your emotions pooling in your eyes. "Thank you."

Kylian felt the weight of your otherwise simple words, taking context from the way you were looking at him. "I'll always be here for you."

With that, he reluctantly closed the door behind him, trudging to the bedroom closest to you.

The room spun as you laid down on your favorite pillow, beyond comfortable under the duvet you picked out yourself. You wished you never went drinking tonight. If you'd just stayed home and pigged out on ice cream you wouldn't have to face the truth that's been slowly crawling to the surface.

Your eyes shut much too quickly to really explore the sentiments you've uncovered tonight, but that's probably for the best.

Kylian's mind was racing and he only hoped you couldn't hear how loud his brain was from the next room. Under the guilt and self-pity he's been swimming in for weeks, he finally felt a sliver of optimism beginning to grow inside of him. It was such a tender feeling, a feeling he let lull him to sleep, content knowing you were just on the other side of that wall.

A/N: The amount of times this deleted..... I was going crazy. Thank god that I started saving every draft on Google Drive or else I probably would have stopped writing out of frustration. Big things coming for (Y/N) and Kylain! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry about having to make Haaland an asshole bc I really do love him. It was just to move the plot along <3. Also I didn't know all of the soccer terms in english so forgive me if I messed any of that up. Love all of you and thanks for reading!

[artdcnaldson]

you literally read my mind with making dodge prove he deserves you before he gets to do anything YOUR MIND im BARKINGGG (and so is he)

now i’m thinking about the remix ,, maybe you and dodge don’t get a chance to be alone together again for a bit bc you’re both busy competing and training. your rivalry is still going strong to outsiders, but you both know it’s fundamentally changed. there’s a different heat behind your gaze when you lock eyes with him across the ring, his hands will wander and subtly squeeze your hips when he’s moving past you in the stables. the longer this goes on the more pent up you’re both getting and it all comes to a head when the next big rodeo comes up.

for once, you stick around after your event to actually watch dodge ride. he sees you as he’s getting set up in the cage and flashes a quick smile before he really locks in to focus. theennn your eyes move from him across the crowd to see familiar bedazzled jeans and perky tits leaning against the rails of the ring, waving and batting her eyes at him.

and fuuuck that, you see red. if he needs to get his dick wet that badly, she can have him!! you turn on your heel and storm to your car right as the sound goes off and he’s let out of the gate.

after that, you’re cold to him. you completely ice him out for days, barely acknowledging his existence and avoiding him at all costs. he finally corners you in one of the tack storage rooms and when he figures out why you’ve been so upset with him he’s such a dick about it. you do your best to stay cold towards him and keep it a secret, but a snide comment about “cowgirl barbie” slips out before you could stop it and suddenly he’s a dog with a bone.

you try to shoulder past him to the door, but he grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you back to face him. he tilts your head up so his lips are practically on yours when he speaks.

“you know, if I’d known how cute you look when you’re jealous, I’d have fucked her right in front of you ages ago,” he says, tongue darting out to wet his lips. your eyes widen ever so slightly and you avert your gaze.

little does he know, you think as flashes of him mouthing at her tits in the back of his car run through your mind.

the problem is dodge is very perceptive. he’s known you almost all your life, even if you two hated each other for so long he still knows your tells.

“you dirty little girl, you already have seen me fuck her,” he grins. there’s a mean glint in his eye that sends heat straight to your pussy.

the words fly out of your mouth, “i didn’t watch you fuck her, i only saw—”

“enough to get the idea, huh? too bad you missed out on the whole thing, she got pretty loud towards the end.”

humiliation burns through you, more so than the grip he still has on your hair. you shut your eyes tight as tears well up in them. he coos at you and brings his free hand to caress your cheek.

“don’t worry baby, i haven’t fucked her again,” he says, still so condescending but with a hint softness. “you think i’d go back to her after tasting you? not a chance in hell. not when this pussy is all i can think about.”

you open your eyes and gaze up at him, they’re still full of tears and a whimper escapes your throat. it’s a sight that would have sent him to his knees had he not had days of pent up anger towards you for being such a brat and exponentially more pent up arousal over it.

he shoves his thigh between your legs and wraps the hand that was on your cheek around your throat. you squirm, but you know you’re not going anywhere if he doesn’t want you to. the powerlessness makes your mind go fuzzy and soft.

“you’ve been such a little bitch this whole week, trying to get back at me for something i didn’t even do,” he says, squeezing your neck just a bit tighter. “now you’re gonna be a good girl and make it up to me, isn’t that right baby?”

even with your restricted movement, you’ve never nodded your head so fast.

your honor i’m in love with him and his mile wide mean streak for cute little brats

-🎀

Hnngngngnngng :(((( he’s mean :((((

I’m so not eloquent when it comes to dodge I wish I could write him I truly do but my head is just so empty :(((

But I’m Thinking in very vague terms about him fucking you hard and rough, making you moan and cry on his dick so everyone knows you’re his little plaything :(((((

[veryace-ficrecs]

Jedi Culture and Customs Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

In Search of Comfort by BreakfastTea - Rated G

A collection of short stories in which Cal gives and receives comfort, originally posted to Tumblr in 2022 and 2023. Expect hugs, blankets and pancakes!

‘The Temporary Temple Guards’ by RoosjeM - Not Rated

It was a widely known fact within the Temple, that the Temple Guards stationed at the Coruscant Temple were experiencing a ‘shortage’ at the moment. Seeing as Knights were sent out to complete missions and went on protective details, they were also the Corp that was responsible for the Temple Guards. - “I may have an issue.” “What is it?” The boy was alone. No one else was around despite it being the middle of the night. Just the boy who made a bee-line for Obi-Wan. He was way too young to be out at this time let alone out here all alone. It was the boy’s training armour that tipped Obi-wan off that this was more than just a lost child. “I have a youngling in front of me. There is no one else around and I am pretty sure he’s Mandalorian.” Quinlan paused, then asked, “...Come again?” Obi-Wan peered down at the child tugging at his arm. “Aran, ner echoy'la.” Kriff. “Correction, I have a Mandalorian boy in front of me telling me he’s lost.” - Or it’s Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi’s turn to be a Temporary Temple Guard and of course one of his past missions comes back to haunt him.

My head is warm, my feet are cold by themonopolyhat - Rated T

No one knows yet how in the Sith hells Obi-Wan managed to sneak up to his quarters before collapsing, either. The fact that he did so on the morning of his own fucking funeral is so theatrical that Vokara may never forgive him.

Or: Obi-Wan rescues himself, gives a Padawan anxiety, and creates problems for Mace and Vokara.

An AU/remix of Night_Fury's if i don't make it back (from where i've gone).

Knights of the Republic by darkstars12 - Rated G

For too many years the Jedi have been mysterious to us. They have been idolized to the point of legend and today we’re here to set the record straight. The Jedi are not some kind of little gods, but rather a beautiful and unique culture that has yet to be explored within modern media. I’m your host Xiaan Pauk and this is Knights of the Republic: Unfiltered.

carried in your heart by grumpyhedgehogs - Rated G

“I am always with you.” Obi-Wan tells her. Her heart thumps painfully in her chest as her grandmaster rests his palm over it. The organ betrays her, beats away like it can crack her ribs apart and slip between them to leap into Obi-Wan’s chest and stay there with him, always. Slowly, tentatively, Ahsoka lets Obi-Wan guide her to rest her own palm over his heart. It pulses under her fingers, reminding Ahsoka at least one Jedi still lives on. “You are always with me.”

Mace's Headache by Siri_Kenobi12 - Rated G

The Jedi Council is shocked after that fateful meeting with Qui-Gon Jinn in TPM, but should they really be surprised that the ‘Maverick’ of the Order would somehow be the epicenter of the prophesied “Chosen One” and the reemergence of the Sith? Should they really be surprised that the Padawan raised by the defiant Dooku would find a loophole in the code in order to get what he wants? That he’d stubbornly stick to his position even if it meant he inadvertently crushed the future of a promising young man in the process? The question plaguing Mace’s mind now is, does he step in to try and fix it? Or does he just leave things alone? Either way Mace Windu already has a headache.

in the swing over the creek by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated T

Obi-Wan Kenobi was sitting in the corner of the crèche, drawing pictures.

Stardust Showers by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated G

Obi-Wan Kenobi looked to the left. He looked to the right. Now was his chance. Time to escape!

the moon slides down the stairs by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated T

Depa Billaba led her padawan, Caleb Dume, through the halls of the Jedi Temple. The path they took was one that was as familiar to her as the katas of Shii-Cho. or Shatterpoint Lineage Dinner, with a twist

Epistolary Investigations by Knifehawk - Rated T

History is an interesting thing, especially when it involves an organization like the Jedi Order that has records stretching back twenty-five thousand years. One would expect that such an organization would have a relatively clear and accurate understanding of their own history, especially history merely four thousand years in the past, but what happens when a single Jedi, desperately searching for any new knowledge that will quench the ire of his archivist friend, discovers information that calls the entire history, and doctrine, of the Jedi Order into question. Typically, debates would be had, accusations and rumors of heresy and apostacy launched, and the seeker would back down fearing their declaration as "fallen." When that Jedi is Master Yan Dooku, Padawan of Grandmaster Yoda, Jedi Shadow, and close friend of Archivist Jocasta Nu and Seer Syfo-Dias? It turns out that a great many things change. Probably for the best as time is running out, and a Force-gifted confrontation edges closer and closer.

then leaf subsides to leaf by The_Last_Kenobi (orphan_account) - Not Rated

You are a Jedi, and this is what that means.

a stitch in time by ash_in_a_burrito - Rated T

Obi-Wan looked out at his clan of initiates. The Dragon Clan had about ten younglings, all gathered around, looking at him with eager eyes. If he was being honest, he was feeling a little nervous about taking his first class. Quin had told him that it would feel natural, and he’d find it no problem, but Quin had also been practically raising Aayla since she was 4 years old.

Scarab by b1uebear - Rated G

“Master,” she said, “is it wrong for a Jedi to kill?” “It would certainly be wrong for you to kill that poor beetle,” Mace replied. Padawan Bo-Katan gets into a philosophical discussion with her Master. For Jedi June 2024.

Spread Too Thin by owlfeather - Rated G

A Jedi may not be able to help everyone. Elara refuses to accept it.

The Eight Younglings by ThirteenGreen - Rated G

The Jedi fosterer Master Laeus goes on another trip across the galaxy to collect younglings for the order. Her journey takes her to seven different worlds in the Republic, different cultures and peoples offering different receptions and glimpses of the galaxy, but all holding a part of the next generation of Jedi.

Little Muttamok Rescue by Jedi_Joanna - Rated G

“I want to keep her.” “No.” Dacken Harfai is a Jedi Initiate of Clan Dewback. Everyone says the war is coming to a close. This is great; now Dacken can figure out how to find who is meant to be his Jedi Master. And, of course, Amon -a muttamok who now lives with the clan- will help.

[glorious-blackout]

Have some ESC-related song recs, because it’s been over a month and I’m still having a lot of fun digging into the back-catalogues of my faves from this year!

Bear in mind that I’ve barely scratched the surface for some of these artists so if anyone has any other recs, please let me know. I’d love to hear them 🥰

Käärijä (Finland) - I’ve honestly liked everything I’ve heard from him (which is surprising as I’m not usually a massive fan of rap) and can highly recommend his entire Fantastista album, but if I have to narrow my choices down to a few absolute faves then I’d recommend the following to begin with:

Mic Mac

Viulunkieli

Paidaton Riehuja 

Välikuolema

Rock Rock (Daun Lou Remix)

Joker Out (Slovenia) - Again, I can highly recommend both of their albums and it’s difficult to narrow down faves, but these are the songs that made me want to listen to more of their work:

Demoni

Novi Val/New Wave (the latter is an English version performed with Elvis Costello which I love just as much as the gorgeous Slovenian version)

Ona 

Umazane Misli

Tokio 

Katrina

Lord of the Lost (Germany) - ie. talented kings who deserved so much better:

Loreley

One Last Song

My Better Me (I’ll be honest, most of my appreciation for this song comes from Chris’s parody where he reworks it into a love song for Matt Bellamy from Muse)

noituLOVEr (Happy Pride Month everyone 🌈)

Cha Cha Cha (technically cheating with this one but their cover was honestly fantastic and apparently they’re hoping to perform it live with Käärijä one day!)

Voyager (Australia) - ie. the reason I desperately need Australia to stay in Eurovision next year:

Colours

Ascension 

Submarine

Dreamer (this one was their entry for Australia Decides in 2022; it won the televote so in another timeline this song would have competed in last year’s ESC)

And have some additional recs by artists whose ESC songs I adored but whose other work I haven’t had a chance to fully explore yet:

Luke Black (Serbia) - Olive Tree (@aeolianblues you might be more familiar with Luke's other work than I am at this point 😅)

Blanca Paloma (Spain) - Plumas De Nácar (this woman’s voice is heavenly and I’ll happily listen to anything she releases)

Vesna (Czechia) - Płakały

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Rewind, Remix, & Replay Jay & Kim 6x2

You can read the rest of the series here

Alright guys, let’s buckle up for the next few chapters. We are in the midst of one of Jay’s spirals. He has gone through a lot and now he has to figure out how to live on without his dad or the closure he needed from him.

I'm not quite sure if I hit the mark with this one- I had some trouble getting what I wanted down on paper. The episode was so emotion driven it was kind of hard to add anything more to it. 

Kim's surprise shows on her face when Jay joins her. “Are you working this case?”

“It’s good to see you too.” Kim’s dark brown eyes were worried. Jay dismisses it off hand. “I’m fine. There is a murder out there and it’s my job to catch him- end of story.” Kim gives him a skeptical look. Jay starts walking and Kim falls into step with him.

“No, not end of story. You just lost your dad, Jay. You should take some time-”

“Kim, I don’t need time. I’m all good.” Kim didn’t know who Jay thought he was lying to she had seen how wrecked he was in the hospital. She grabbed his arm forcing him to stop and stand across from her. “C’mon, you know my relationship with my dad wasn’t like that. We weren’t close. We were distant at best, I got used to it.” Jay’s tone bodes no argument but Kim pushes anyway.

“I think you want to believe that. But Jay I was there- You need more-” Jay feels his frustration hit a boil suddenly- the tight control he normally had on his emotions busted and in need of repair. He doesn’t even have time to process the awful words that he slews her way, he just wants her to stop talking.

“Look I know you have daddy issues but don’t project them onto me.” They burn his throat like acid. She doesn’t respond but her face says it all. She had gotten so good at keeping her face unreadable for the job the last few years. But she doesn’t even try to hide them this time. Jay feels it like a punch to the gut. His anger fades and he feels immediate chest heavy guilt. He goes to apologize for his very out-of-pocket comment but doesn’t have a chance because of the sound of gunfire.

Kim takes off without looking back to see if Jay is following. He is right at her back pulling his gun. When they see the girl bleeding from a gunshot wound to her chest. Jay stops and puts pressure on her wound, telling her she is going to be okay. Kim takes off after the shooter.

“You listen to me because it is my job to keep you safe and I will always do my job and you will do yours.” Kim stays back as Voight’s voice carries across the street. She wanted to run to Jay. Touch him and feel his heartbeat. She can see that he is very much alive but still her brain is having trouble believing what her eyes see.

He is shirtless and pale as a ghost sitting on the bumper of the ambulance. She can see the ugly black bruise already taking up most of his peck and growing. The spot where she rested her head to sleep. The spot where he had been shot, only saved by his bulletproof vest. His side was bandaged from where the bullet had gone through luckily missing anything major. Still, Kim feels sick to her stomach.

Voight finishes his conversation with Jay and starts stalking back her way. Kim wants to go to Jay but it is clear that he has something he wants to say to her. “Kim,” She straightens and leans closer. “Take a couple of days off. I want you to watch Halstead.”

“Of course, Sarg.” Kim can see the worry in Hank’s eyes. He nods at her and she starts to walk over to Jay. Voight grabs her wrist and she pauses to look back up at him.

“I don’t want him back until he’s got his head on straight.” Kim hears the seriousness in his tone and nods at him. “You call if you need anything.” He squeezes her arm in support and gestures with a tilt of his head to Halstead.

Kim doesn’t waste any time heading over to him, eating the distances with her hurried strides. Her fingertips ghost over the bruise on his chest without thought. It would be a long time before she would be able to sleep on him. Jay’s hand catches her wrist bringing her hand up to kiss her palm. “Baby, I’m so sorry about what I said. It-” He huffs out a breath his ribs burning as he starts to come down from the adrenaline. “It was completely out of line.”

“You just got shot and that’s what you want to talk about?” Kim had been upset about the comment. It had cut her deeper than she cared to acknowledge. She knew Jay was only lashing out because he was in emotional turmoil. That didn’t excuse his hurtful words, not completely. However, she felt like there were bigger things to talk about considering his injuries.

“It’s important. I want to make sure we are okay. I need to know we are.” His blue eyes were overflowing with emotions, begging for assurance. His grip on her hand was tight. She brought her other hand up to cup his cheek. He leaned into her hand and she pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Jay, we are okay.” Kim watched some of the tension leak out of his body. He was still holding himself stiffly, favoring his one side. His hand wraps around the nape of her neck pulling her closer. For a second, she thought he might be trying to steal a kiss, but he just pressed his forehead against hers. His fingers tighten in her hair. She rubs her hand down his forearm and eases down next to him on the back of the ambulance.

“I just couldn’t help myself. Not after being a bystander to my dad’s… I couldn’t help get him out of the fire. Couldn’t help him in the hospital like Will. I just- I had to do something. I had to get this guy. I had to help.” Kim squeezed his hand thinking of how to respond. She was saved by his abrupt change in topic to something safer. “Did you see how pissed Voight was?”

“You scared him Jay- scared the hell out of me too. He just wants to make sure you are okay.” Kim closed her eyes tightly. Another spike of fear rushed through her system like a shot of adrenaline. The thought of losing Jay had tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” She nods wiping away a tear that had escaped. She licks her dry lips and slowly stands.

“We will figure it all out later. Let’s get you to the hospital to get checked out.” Kim has barely lifted her hand to get Foster’s attention to load him up to get him to Med. Jay grabs her arm to stop her.

“I can’t go back there, I just can’t.” His blue eyes were pleading with her to understand. His grip was tight on her forearm, his jaw clenched, tension returning to his body.

“Jay,”

“I just want to go home. Lay in my own bed- with you- and sleep. Please, baby, don’t ask me to go back there.” Kim knew that she would spend all night worrying about Jay if she didn’t take him to the hospital. She knew she would toss and turn and be constantly checking to make sure he was okay, that he was breathing, and that his heart was beating. But the look in his blue eyes broke her heart. She knew why he didn’t want to go back to the hospital and it wasn’t his hatred of needles. Not this time.

“Let’s get you home then.”

[swayziiwriter]

Rainy days | Neymar jr

summary: a rainy match day in Barcelona and some locker room sex.

WARNING: 18+, sexual content

It was rainy season in Barcelona. Evident as the rain continued to pour all along Barcelona's stadium that was filled to the brim with spectators eager to see the game between rivals Barcelona & Real Madrid. You were standing along the sidelines of the stadium, counting down the time until the match started as you waited for Neymar to come back out from the locker rooms knowing that he was probably indulged into a conversation with Leo and Luis, loosing track of time.

You stuck your hand out from the covered area of the sideline, you watched as the rain drops hit your coat smiling as you looked up at the stadium savouring the moment of being here in the presence of games you watched only from a screen growing up. Though, now you were here in real time. Supporting your fiancé as his career progressed, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filled your stomach. Butterflies erupted as you thought of Neymar's career, your relationship, and everything still to come.

A voice that you recognized to belong to Neymar pulled your focus away from your thoughts, instead all attention being directed behind you as you watched Neymar jog over to you with a smile. "Está chovendo" Neymar said as you placed a kiss to his lips, welcoming the warm feeling he gave as you stayed in the cold.

"I'm going to the seating area, I just wanted to see you before I did" you replied lazily wrapping your arms around his neck as he placed another kiss on your cheek.

"Come here" Neymar said as grabbed your waist bringing him into you, intertwining your hands as he walked you two back into the tunnel down the secluded halls into the locker rooms that read

"Vestuario" "Neymar why are your brining me here, you're not allow " you were cut off by swift movement of Neymar's hand covering your mouth. "bebê" Neymar spoke out lowly, un zipping your jacket and tossing it somewhere on the ground in a pile with his own Barcelona jacket. Neymar looked down at you, eyes dark with lust as a smirk creeped onto his face as he brought your body into his, leaving a kiss on your jaw before making a move towards your shirt.

You pulled away before he could reach the edge of it. Neymar wanted to have sex with you in the team locker room half an hour before a game. "No Ney, we are not doing this right now" you whisper shouted while looking around the room making sure no one else was in view of you two. "I need you meu amor, please. It would be fun" he continued walking towards you, hands reaching behind you to trap you in his arms as your back came into contact with the cold lockers.

You shivered as Neymar inched up your shirt, letting your back come into contact with the cold metal. You leaned your head back giving Neymar more access to your exposed neck as he left open mouthed kisses near your chest, feeling up your breasts through your half up shirt.

"Ney, I don't know about this, anyone could find us" you suddenly spoke out as Neymar pulled your shirt off, before reaching back to remove his jersey. Neymar nodded before reaching down to your pants, ripping them down before you had a chance to understand what was happening. He moved his finger up and down your clothed core, feeling the wet spot that had pooled in your now ruined panties.

Moving your panties aside he stuck a finger into your tight core. Moving it at a teasingly slow pace, torturing your insides as they now craved Neymar's touch. You let a whimper as he left a kiss right above his finger, he had turned you on and there was no way you were going to let him stop.

Neymar suddenly stopped his movements in your core, pulling out his fingers slowly leaving you whining at the loss of pleasure.

"Turn around bebê" Neymar said licking your cum off his fingers as he went to remove his pants. You pulled your underwear down, stepping out of it turning around to grip the bench in front of you.

Neymar smirked behind you, you obeyed him without another word.

You let out a small moan as Neymar ran his tip along your aching pussy, he gripped your hips fingers digging into your flesh as he listened to your breathing intense. "Neymar please stop teasing" you spoke out as he continued to run his hard duck up and down your core letting the sticky liquid that leaked out from his tip smear all over your butt.

"Please what hm?" He mocked letting you whine impatiently. "give it to me already Ney please" you begged tired of his teasing and playful motions. Neymar finally gave in, moaning as he stretched you out in all the right places.

He didn't give you time to adjust, building up his rapid pace as you moaned out in pleasure. "Look at you, bent over in a locker room for my cock" he grunted pace increasing as you clenched around his long cock.

"You take my cock so good bebê"

Neymar cooed out leaving you moaning in response unable to form a proper sentence your mind blank from how good he was fucking you.

"Give it to me Ney, don't stop" you moaned out as you felt an all too familiar knot form in your stomach, closer to your release as Neymar lifter your body up by your hair leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Neymar took your hand putting it up against your stomach to feel how deep he was buried inside your tight pussy. "You feel that" he said, you moaned in response. "Feel my cock so deep inside you, letting me fuck you where anyone could walk in and see how much of a slut you are for this dick" he continued.

The sound of skin slapping, heavy breathes, and the continued chant of Neymar's name the sound that bounced off the walls of the Barcelona locker room. With a few more thrusts and a string of encouragements from Neymar, you were sent over the edge. Moaning Neymar's name as you spasmed all over his cock.

Your release triggering Neymar's as he came with a loud grunt, pounding into you to ride out his high. "So good for me" Neymar spoke out as he slid out of your core, a mixture of both your juices dripping out.

A sight that was enough for Neymar to fuck you once again in celebration of Barcelona's win over Real Madrid when you arrived home

[kaufmann-6]

Oh, hiiii! It was about time I made an official introduction to my blog!

ᓚᘏᗢ I'm Kaufman, but you can call me Kauf! I'm a writer on ao3, an avid fic reader and a pianist!

ᓚᘏᗢ I like to reblog some of my favorite fandoms content, like PJO, Batfam and TUA on this blog and share my fics. (feel free to send me writing prompts and headcanons from the fandoms I'll list below, I'd love a challenge!)

ᓚᘏᗢ I'm also open to fic colabs and friendly chat. You have my permission to remix, translate, make podfics and/or fanarts out of my works but please tag me when posting here on tumblr. You can also post on ao3 using the "inspired by" or gift feature. (do not post content based on my works out of ao3 and tumblr)

ᓚᘏᗢ Did you know I'm the owner of a Jasico Discord server? I host creative challenges on @jasico-challenges and decided to create a Discord so people can talk about the events, Jasico, and random PJO! You're welcome to join by clicking this invite link.

ᓚᘏᗢ --------------------- >

ᓚᘏᗢ I go by Kaufmann on AO3. Here are some things that I've written:

The Umbrella Academy

ᓚᘏᗢ Absence → A remix fic I wrote for @tua-masked-author based out of @littlerit's amazing work, The Time Traveler's Life. It's Klaus pov of his 14th birthday and Five's multiple appearances. Angsty.

ᓚᘏᗢ If Only → An AU in which Patch didn't notice Five's van across the street and Cha-Cha got tired of waiting so she kills Klaus on S1E4.

ᓚᘏᗢ Bubble Thoughts → Another @tua-masked-author entry, an older one this time. It's a post-S3 fic in which Klaus reflects on his father's betrayal and his actions in that season. Luther helps him cope.

ᓚᘏᗢ I can die when I'm done. → Written for @tua-masked-author first edition! It's a missing scene fic from when Klaus was locked in that tiny motel closet in S1 when Hazel and Cha-Cha left to blow up Meritech. Character study, internal monologue. Lots of Angst & Hurt/No Comfort.

ᓚᘏᗢ The Bargain → An old wip that I really should pick up again. It's an AU in which the Handler decided to use Five's love for his siblings against him and uses Klaus as a hostage to get Five to work for her on S1E5. TW: SA.

DC Batman

ᓚᘏᗢ 'Cause you all try to keep me down → This fic was written for @febuwhump 2024. In this one, Black Mask kidnaps Red Hood and Red Robin and Jason is forced to watch Tim get tortured by the man who hates him the most. TW: Whump & eletric shock torture.

ᓚᘏᗢ I'm absolutely obsessed with Jason Todd at the moment and have so many fic ideas, including a Time Traveller's Wife AU coming up soon. Stay tunned!

Riordanverse (PJO, HOO, TOA)

ᓚᘏᗢ Oh, ho, the mistletoe (is hung where you can see) → Jasico Imprint Soulmate AU written for @jasico-challenges's Bingo Challenges 2024. Between flashbacks from the past, nightmares and christmas presents, Jason and Nico figure out how to tell their friends the truth about their relationship.

ᓚᘏᗢ If you had one more chance → Jasico fic for the Percy Jackson Gift Exchange Autum Equinox 2023. Nico struggles after Jason's death and decides to risk everything to bring him back. Orpheus & Euridyce style.

ᓚᘏᗢ Every Breath You Take → Jercy fic written for the Percy Jackson Gift Exchange Winter Solstice 2022. Percy and Jason are secretly pining for each other. In a road trip across the country, they finally face their feelings, but not withought some angst and jelously in the middle.

ᓚᘏᗢ It Doesn't Matter Anymore → A Jason Grace character study from when he was stuck in the wind prison in TOA. What was he thinking on his very last moments? Angst and Hurt/No Comfort. TW: Major character death & implied/referenced suicide.

ᓚᘏᗢ --------------------- >

I've written fics of some other fandoms like Maze Runner and I Am Not Okay With This but the fadoms above are the ones I'm still active in.

If you'd like to send a writing prompt or to make a request, here's my Bad Things Happen Bingo card, I'm accepting Jason Todd & Batfamily requests.