#someone should let him kiss a boy tho I think he needs something to be awoken in him

[clambuoyance]

hello /waves shyly/ i am the anon who recommended red as a timkon song, and i just want to tell you too that i think The Lucky One by taylor swift too fits naive, just-out-of-the-test-tube, teen celeb kon sooooo well!! esp the last verse of the song where it goes "and they still tell the legend of how you disappeared / how you took the money and your dignity / and got the hell out" > parallels his decision to go live with the kents in smallville and completely change his image as well.

i like to think the image change (while we all lament t-shirt kon sometimes) was necessary for kon to truly examine who he wanted to be. and it only grew after he died and came back (re: adventure comics 2009 where he makes lists of what would superman/lex do). and idk i just feel like this song encapsulates that!!

rambling aside, i love your art, and your song reccs on IG too! thank you for always sharing your timkon/kon-el brainrot with us <3

Oh my god love this songs vibes it’s very “getting disillusioned with fame” vibes

Also I big agree! Kon in smallville just…the vibes are too good. I guess I’d prefer it if they changed his haircut at least. But It’s very fitting for 2000s I guess. I also like how some artists draw tshirt Kon tbh (Francis manapul, Marcus to), but I can’t get behind how the artist for tt03 draws him tbh…And design wise, i wished they at least let him keep some accessories…and then let him transition into a new style that’s somewhat punk but something new and different too? In my head, that era of Kon in the 2009-2011 comics should have led to someone who was more sure in himself. Not insecure and not falsely confident like when he was younger, but like healthily confident if that makes sense…

Like this was just a doodle for what my version of tshirt kon would be like

Also random, i could literally rant for hours about how superboy’s written in both the 90s and 2000s bc both have good and bad, i have traits I prefer in one vs the other etc etc, but while in the 2000s he gives more…”macho” or “serious” Vibes based on appearance—I feel like he’s still pretty snarky at times, and surprisingly emotional and soft still? Sorry that was a random ramble. Kon in smallville is just vibes if u get it u get it

[sinsandsweetness]

Wellllllll…… I just read one Rec from someone and holy. Stepdad Rick isn’t my thing but still hot. I was thinking what if it was Shane instead. Or Daryl. Sneaking around behind Rick’s back. But ugh, Rick is so hot tho. Decisions decisions. More like Dad’s best friend maybe?

now that’s hot as hell. Idk who Dad would be but best friend trope could work for any combination possible I would think… (all of them!? 🙈 short of a orgy, I can’t see either Dixon putting up with Shane even for something like that but hey)

been thinking about this every hour since it appeared in my inbox… (Shane is my guilty pleasure fr. would let him do disgusting things to me)

I think I’m seeing your vision… lemme know what you think💗

PICK YOUR POISON

(Rick & Shane & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+, smut, alcohol consumption, smoking, references of sex, multiple partners, the boys are kinda pervs but it’s ok cause ur legal and this is fiction <3 2.1k word count

You open the door to the garage and make your way down the stairs. Not even bothering to slip any shoes on. Your mom keeps the epoxy floors absolutely pristine, so there’s really no reason. Plus, your toenail polish is still a little tacky. Bright, bubble gum pink polish and a silver toe ring adorning your foot. The smell of liquor and smoke has filled the garage. Accompanied by the deep, rugged voices and dry laughs coming from your fathers closest friends.

“You know mom hates it when you smoke in the house.” You say all matter of fact, leaning up against the bar-tops, marble counter. You can feel your tank top strap slipping down your shoulder. But the animalistic looks coming from your dads three closest friends, force you to let it drop. To let them see.

Your father puts his cigarette out in the ash tray on the bar. Rolling his eyes at you. “Well good thing we’re in the garage then.”

You ignore his attitude.

“Mom needs you.”

“For what?”

“To drop her off at Cindy’s.”

He seems irritated. But all five of you can hear the rain. There’s no way any half decent husband should let his wife walk to her monthly book club meeting in this weather.

“Just- keep your mouth shut about the smokes. And grab everyone another drink. Make sure they don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” You father jokes, ruffling up Daryl’s hair on his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and keys.

You wave an innocent goodbye as you watch him through the garage door windows, backing out of the driveway. Your mother in the passenger seat, smiling sweetly at you.

“Well… whatcha drinkin’?” You ask Rick, who’s sat in the middle. Glass empty, with a lone, melting ice cube clinking around in the bottom.

“Rum and coke.” He answers, licking his lips.

“Spiced?” You ask. A flirty smile playing on your face as you bite your bottom lip.

They’re all staring. Jaws clenched and breathing slowly.

You know what you’re doing. You can tell by the way they’re all looking at you. You can practically see the wheels turning in their brains.

They shouldn’t be thinking this way about their friends daughter. About their best friends little girl. Well… not so little anymore. You’d just turned 21. Hell, they were at the party. Giving you the exact same looks they’re giving you right now.

The ones they definitely shouldn’t be.

But they are.

They’re thinking about your thin, frilly, pyjama shorts, and how they can see the purple g string pulled up over your hips. How they can see your belly ring through the fabric of your tank top, and imagining what it would feel like against their lips as they kiss their way down your stomach. And you know they’re thinking about bending you over the bar counter and taking turns at fucking you until they hear the sound of your dads diesel pulling into the driveway. How you’d have to play pretend for your father, ignoring the fact that your panties are soaking through with three different men’s cum, and maybe even a mix of your own. The salty liquids threatening to drip down your inner thigh as you politely excuse yourself from the garage. Coming up with any bullshit excuse to go lay on your bed and rub your clit until you’re seeing stars. Imagining each of their faces in between your legs, spreading you open and eating you up.

You know they’re thinking it, because you are too. It’s the only thing you can think about in this moment, while pouring Rick a double spiced rum and coke. Taking a sip and then handing it him. Making sure your fingers touch.

When you turn to ask Shane what he wants, he gets up. Insisting that you won’t know how to make an old fashioned. You only just turned 21 after all. You probably haven’t even had one before.

But he’s wrong. They’re your dads favourite and you’d been making them for him since you were 16. But you didn’t tell Shane that. Instead you let him walk around the bar, come up behind you and press himself against your back. Letting a tiny gasp escape at the feeling of his, very hard, cock pressing into your bum. Pushing you even further against the counter. His chest is warm against you. And his hands are big and calloused as he guides your own, pouring the perfect amount of bitters, simple syrup and bourbon over a huge, king sized ice cube that he’d retrieved from the freezer.

Finally, taking a slice of orange, meticulously cut up and organized in little containers on the bar top. It was something your mother was always very fond of; organizing the liquors and the garnishes, ensuring that your father could host a proper poker night or barbecue. Or whatever the fuck they stayed up all night doing in their little man cave. Not knowing that you were upstairs, awake and playing with your favourite vibrator, listening to their rock music through your bedroom floor.

“And then you twist it, like this…” Shane’s lips are actually brushing your ear. And you don’t mean to, but your eyes flutter shut at the feeling. His free hand moves to your waist as he tosses the orange peel in the drink, lifting it up and bringing the cold glass to your lips.

“Try it.” He says. And though you can’t see him because he’s still behind you, you can hear the smirk in his voice.

You take a sip. A small one. Immediately scrunching your face at the two men still sitting across you. Their lips curl into an amused smile as they watch you swallow the amber liquid.

“Not my favourite.” You whisper as Shane leans back. Only for a second before he’s turned you around and trapped you once more, back to the bar this time.

“Well we did forget one thing,” He says, reaching over to a jar on the counter. Maraschino cherries. Your favourite.

“And I know how much you like these.” He teases, referring to all the cherries he caught you adding to your piña coladas at a neighbors pool party only a couple weeks ago.

He dips a single cherry in the drink. Taking it by the stem and lifting it to your mouth. You don’t hesitate in wrapping your lips around it. The bitter taste of the bourbon on the fruit doesn’t last long. A sweet, sugary syrup bleeds over your tastebuds as you bite into the cherry. And a moan manages to escape your throat. It’s quiet. You think maybe it was subtle enough to go unnoticed. But the smile on Shane’s lips and the dry laugh coming from behind you, tell you that it didn’t.

Shane is still pushed up against you, cock strained in his jeans and pressed right against your stomach. His hand gripping your hip and forcing you to stay against the counter. And the way he’s looking down at you. Fuck, the way they’re all looking at you. Watching you start to squirm under their gaze.

“It’s good.” You swallow. Trying to maintain a confident, big girl attitude. But truthfully, you just want them to peel your clothes off, and let you melt into their arms as you cum all over their cocks.

“Daryl’s drink is still empty, sweetheart.” Rick’s gravelly voice pulls you back.

“Right.”

Shane gives your hip one last squeeze before he walks back to his barstool. Next to Rick. They cheers quietly and sip on their drinks. Watching intently as you try to compose yourself.

“What’s your poison?” You turn to the last man, lighting what was probably his second or third cigarette of the night. Glancing up at you and taking a draw. Slowly inhaling and exhaling. And though your mother was not a fan, you fucking loved it. You wanted to crawl onto his lap and have him blow the smoke right between your lips as you rode his cock, letting the other two men watch and touch themselves to the sight of you getting off on another guy.

But you didn’t.

“Just a beer, sunshine.” He pushes his empty glass forward for you. You grab it and put it in the dishwasher. Grabbing a brand new, frosted mug from the freezer.

“Which one?”

“Bud’s fine.”

You grab a bottle and skillfully pour it into the mug, coming around the bar this time to hand it to him. Intentionally placing yourself between him and Rick, reaching over and setting the glass in front of him.

To no one’s surprise, you feel a warm hand on the small of your back. Rick’s fingers tracing dangerously close to the thin band of your panties.

“Those are really bad for you, y’know.”

You get bold again. Stepping onto the foot rest of Rick’s barstool, and taking a seat right on his lap. The hand on your back only helping guide you on to him. Quickly finding its way around your waist as you make yourself comfortable.

Daryl only grunts. Hiding a smile at your silly comment. He’d seen you smoke. Hell, he’d snuck out of multiple dinner parties to have one with you.

“You gonna share?” You ask.

Hesitantly he hands it over, and you take it with two fingers. Taking a long drag in and then turning to face Rick again, before you slowly exhale. Trying to focus the smoke onto his lips more than anything.

“What the hell would your father think if he could see you right now?” Shane asks, leaning back in his chair and palming the hard on, still evident in his jeans.

“Think he’d probably try and beat you’re asses.” You say. And while you’re answering Shane, your focus is solely on Rick. The scruff on his face. His bright blue eyes, taunting you and begging you to lean in. Just an inch closer so that he can catch your lips.

“Think he’d win?” Rick asks, glancing down at your own lips.

“Not a chance.” You smile.

He closes the space between you, and you taste rum on the tongue that traces yours. Rick’s hand going to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as you blindly try to put the cigarette out on the ashtray. You start to move. Trying to maneuver your position so that you’d have a leg on either side of him, straddling his very apparent bulge. But right as you start to moan against his mouth, you hear the truck pull up and park. Practically jumping off of Rick and standing in between him and Daryl’s barstools. Fixing your hair as the heat rises to your cheeks. The men chuckle at your flustered appearance. Waiting for their friend to enter through the side door of the garage.

“Hi dad.” You say, smiling politely and pulling your tank top down to cover the strip of skin visible where it had previously rode up.

“Hey, hun. Glad to see they weren’t too much trouble for ya.” You father aproaches and slaps a hand on Shane’s back. Sitting down next to him and grabbing the pack of smokes from his jacket pocket.

“Y’wannanother drink, daddy?” You ask. Daryl clears his throat. And you see Ricks eyes go wide as Shane tries to hide his smile.

“Please. Old fashioned, darling. Y’want some of that pink stuff we found last week? Bubbly… something or other. It’s in the fridge.”

You watch Shane the whole time that you make the old fashioned. Clearly showing him that you knew exactly how your dad liked it. Carefully placing the cocktail on the counter in front of them.

“Thanks doll.” Your dad says, continuing to smoke his cigarette. Reaching over the counter and handing one to Rick who lights it. Watching you the whole time. Tendrils of smoke, floating up to the ceiling of the garage. You turn around. Bending over and being sure to stay searching for the bottle of rosé about thirty seconds longer than you really needed to. You pour a glass as the men discuss what the next move was. What they should do for the night. Considering it’s still a work night, and they all have a supply run pretty early in the morning.

“You wanna play some cards, sweetie?” Your dad asks. You scrunch your nose at him, taking a nice long sip of your sparkling wine.

“What? You got somewhere better to be?” Shane teases.

You huff a semi-annoyed breath, looking around for a spare stool. Even though you already knew there were only 4. Ricks eyes glimmer as he pats his left thigh, inviting you back on.

To your surprise, your dad pays you no mind, already starting to shuffle the deck of cards as you hesitantly take your seat back on top of Rick. Loving the way his hand curls around your thighs and tugs you even further on top of him. And the the way that Shane looks a little jealous that he hadn’t offered first. And you’re especially loving the way Daryl shifts on his stool just the tiniest bit closer, so that his leg grazes yours every now and then.

“All right, here’s the rules…” You hear your dad starts to explain, already dealing you each some cards. But you don’t hear him. You don’t even look in his direction. You’re way too focused on the taste of Rick that lingers on your lips, and the way your clit is actually fucking pulsing. Begging for attention. And truthfully, your mind can’t help but wander, thinking about what might have happened if your dad had taken any longer to get back home.

part 2

-

(I’m picturing readers dad as Tobin in Alexandria. Someone like that at least. With a Carol-esque mother. But picture whoever you’d like! Just thought I’d share what I was kinda thinking…)

taglist - @rickswh0r3 @elnyrae @catt-leya @murder-jacket @miinbun @ankhmutes @eternalrose81 @cl0wnb0yyy @grimesthinker

[whyse7vn]

MOVING OUT -

[ot7 x reader]

BFFS 😁💜

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jk: #NEWYEARNEWHOME

#NEWME 🙌🏼

hobi: don’t want to know don’t care shut up

jin: what now

jimin: sighs

tae: AWOMAN 🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

yooongi: …

jk: #newbeginings 🙏🏼

namjoon: ??

jk: i’m moving out guys 😆

like living on my own

me

i am

no joke

real life

living with y/n era OVER

hobi: attention seeker

jin: idk if you can even survive on ur own

y/n: he’s being stupid

ignore him pls

jk: house warming party soon guys!!!!

everyone invited unless ur name starts with a j

yoongi: your name starts with a j

jk: everyone invited unless ur surname starts with a j

yoongi: are you stupid

jin: is this about y/ns new bf lmao

y/n: i brought jaehyun over ONCE and now kooks spiralling

jk: idk who is jaehyun sorry idk who that is or what ur talking about sorry idk a thing

namjoon: sighs

yoongi: lowkey valid

y/n: ????????

yoongi: i mean if we were living together and you brought a rat back home i would loose my mind a bit

y/n: namjoon

namjoon: yoongi

yoongi: just saying

jimin: LMAOOO

y/n: not funny

jimin: just a little bit

tae: i heard jaehyun a world famous cheater

y/n: guys

hobi: look you made her upset

jk: y/ns upset?

jin: yikes

jimin: it’s not even my fault

yoongi just makes me giggle some times

yoongi: 🫰🏼

tae: i’ll hold you bbg sshhh don’t cry

namjoon: ew

y/n: i really really like him ok

so if you all could actually maybe just give him a chance and not be assholes for once i would really appreciate it

hobi: ofc pretty <3

jimin: ok but do you love him

namjoon: jimin

jimin: WHAT sorry i really need to know

jk: DONT ANSWER THAT

jin: woah

jk: i mean you don’t have to answer that haha

i’m still moving out btw

tae: i think you should give up i don’t think she’s gonna tell you to stay

omg like a dog

stay

i wish someone would tell me to stay

“stay 😡”

ok bae i’ll stay

am i ur good boy?

tell me i am

look at me

i stayed here

waiting for you

tell me i’m your good boy tell me please

hobi: bro

tae: sorry got lost in the source

namjoon: you mean the sauce?

tae: yesss mayo!!

@y/n tell me to say

y/n: absolutely not

i can tell you to kys tho

tae: Keep Yourself here and Stay

a win for kim taehyung

y/n: kill yourself

tae: no

heheheh

i’m a bad boy tonight

what you gonna do about it 😝

jimin: oh my god stop talking

tae: she wants me

y/n: she has a boyfriend

tae: never even seen that man in the same room as you

u sure you not making this relationship up

y/n: do i need to send you a fucking sex tape to prove it

tae: i mean…..

if you want lol

y/n: ur gross

tae: you’ve kissed me

y/n: top ten worst moments of my life

tae: WOAHHHHHHH

UMMM

OK NOW YOU’VE CROSSED A LINE

namjoon: enough

both of you

y/n: taes a shit kisser

tae: NO I AM NOT

NAMJOON TELL HER IM

NOT OHMYGOD HOW DARE SHE

namjoon: wydm tell her?

ur acting like i’ve kissed you to know

tae: i’ll kiss you

namjoon: i’m going to block you

tae: I AM NOT A SHIT KISSER

jimin: tae can’t kiss tae can’t kiss

tae: STOP I CAN

hobi: that’s really sad actually

jk: can someone do me a favour

yoongi: no

namjoon: what’s the favour?

yoongi: it’s gonna be something stupid

jk: joon can you buy me a house??

yoongi: shocker!!

tae: guys i’m a great kisser ask all the girls i’ve kissed

jimin: girls?

the only other girl you’ve kissed is jennie

tae: THATS NOT TRUE I NEVER KISSED THAT WOMAN IN MY LIFE

hobi: she didn’t let you kiss her even tho you flew all the way to paris for her??

that’s crazy

jin: maybe she was waiting for marriage

y/n: maybe she was waiting for the police

namjoon: i am not buying you a house are you out of ur mind??

jk: but how i’m i supposed to move out?

namjoon: buy ur own house?

tae: why would she be waiting for the police??????

jin: being seen with you is a crime in itself

don’t even get me started of being seen publicly HOLDING HANDS with you

hobi: right yikes

jimin: what’s the french police number?

y/n: fuck knows

jin: baguette snail croisant

jimin: those are not numbers

hobi: isn’t that racist?

jin: to who?

hobi: the french??

jin: you can be racist to the french???????

hobi: i think idk???

jin: shit you better lock me up then

been oui oui baguette eiffel tower bonejawing my whole life

y/n: bonejaw??????????

tae: jin ur like a mega racist…

hobi: do you like trump be honest

jin: tf is trump

jk: namjoon pls oh pls 🥺🥺🥺🥺

yoongi: can you guys not have 2 conversations at once thanks

tae: just say you can’t keep up

yoongi: just kill yourself

tae: WOAH

namjoon get him!!!!

namjoon: am i a dog??

why do i have to always get someone

i think you guys need to learn how to fight ur own battles

tae: dog

“stay😡😡😡😡”

w-what’s happening to me 😰😭

🧍🏻‍♂️… 🧎🏻‍♂️…. 🐕

arf? 🥺

*head tilt*

jimin: this is why women avoid you

tae: take a leaf out of my book bro

jimin: would genuinely rather die

hobi: /gen /srs

yoongi: /kys

jin: wait so jungkooks moving out but doesn’t have a home to move into

jk: i can always move in with yoongi

yoongi: LOL

jk: or jimin

jimin: wow the weather is great today guys 😆

jk: hobi will have me

hobi: no!

jk: jin joon??

namjoon: give up

jin: are you silly

tae: i could

jk: no thank you ❤️

tae: wtf

y/n: LMAO

tae: what’s wrong with living with me???

jk: u scare me a lot i’m sorry

tae: fucking bitch

jimin: what if y/n moved in with jaehyun then you have the house to urself?

jk: ARE YOU SILLY???

WHY WOULD I WANT THAT

IMG THE THOUGHT OF THAT MAKES ME WANT YO THROW UP

NEVER SAY THAT AGAIN

jimin: woah ok don’t shoot me in the head tf??

thought you wanted this independent life

y/n: i mean i can if that’s what u really want kook

jk: KOOK HEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHE

my knees just gave out >.<

WAIT NO DONT MOVE IN WITH HIM YOU DONT HAVE TO IM SORRY NO DONT DO THAT

jin: u make me wanna throw up

jk: i love living with you!!! i’m sorry i’m not gonna move out so please don’t move out either living with you has been and IS the best thing that’s ever happened to me please don’t go

hobi: that’s a shinee song

jimin: didn’t she fuck a shinee member LMAO 💀

namjoon: jimin

jimin: sorrrrryyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

tae: so you can fight her battles for her but fighting mine is an issue????

ok sexism IS real females were onto something with this one

y/n: females??

yoongi: they way you dig urself deeper and deeper into unlikeability is truly insane

tae: my fault feminist yoongi here to get my ass 💀💀💀💀

NO IM SORRY I DIDNt MEAN THAT LMAOO

PLS DONT HURT ME

IDK WHY I SAID THAT

THE DEMONS TOOK OVER FOR A SEC

NO JOKE BLACKED OUT

DONT EVEN REMEMBER SAYING THAT

NAMJOON TELL HIM IT WAS A MISTAKE

JOON

KIM NAMJOON TELL HIM TELL HIM

hobi: tell me tell me tttttell me

yoongi: i’m gonna shoot him

namjoon: understandable

hobi: it’s the love shot

jk: i’m not moving out guys

jin: no shit

y/n: hobi answer my ft >_<

hobi: give me one sec my love!!!!!!!!!!

jimin: woah???

jin: uhhhhhhhh

tae: group ft ❤️!!

y/n: kys!!

tae: why do girls not fuck with the nice guys anymore

hobi blew up a school once

hobi: ??

tae: get off the phone so my gf can call ME

yoongi: i beg you to shut the fuck up

tae: beggar

jimin: that coming from you is actually insane tae!

tae: what

namjoon: so whose hosting games night this week

yoongi: not me

jin: i did it last time

jimin: my place is real messy

hobi: don’t wanna :/

tae: i refuse in protest of tae respect and love in this gc

y/n: me and jk can

since he’s not moving out and all

jk: 😁!!

namjoon: cool

everyone ok with that?

jin: yup

jimin: ok

yoongi: yes

tae: whatever lol

hobi: y/n why don’t you invite jaehyun??

so we can all properly meet him

you’ve met his members right??

he should meet yours no?

yoongi: ?????

tae: ARE YOU SILLY

jin: ur so wrong for that

y/n: ahhhh idk

i mean i have met his members

and i really do want you guys to properly meet him as well…

jimin: somethings going on

jk: haha yeah lol i mean i’ve met him already

he was my friend lol haha not that it matters but that’s ok

did i say was ?? i meant is lol sorry i wouldn’t stop being his friend just cuz he’s dating you that would be silly

but yeah but if you want him to come that’s cool

but he really really really doesn’t need to haha

namjoon: y/n bring your boyfriend

y/n: are you sure???

tae: NO??£:£:££:

jin: yes!!! #drama

jimin: ofc

yoongi: whatever

jk: hahah lol hahah

y/n: ok

hobi: great ☺️!!!

cant wait

jimin: i bet

hobi: ??

jimin: nothing

hobi: y/n answer :p

y/n: okokokokokokokokok

jimin: i’m gonna do some deep diving i’ll talk to you all later

(unfortunately)

(and by force not cuz i like you)

(the talking to you later part not the diving part)

bye

jk: woah didn’t know jimin was a diver

yoongi: ur stupid

@y/n reply to my message

bye

jin: wow guys i’m really exited for games night

gotta stock up on the alcohol

so i guess i’m going too

bye 👋🏻

tae: good i’m going as well

i’ve got to go and punch a wall

jungkook come over

this is srs business

jk: okay ^_^

getting in my car

speak to you all later 💓

hobi: y/n told me to tell you all bye

so bye from her and bye from me

😁🫰🏼😁🫰🏼😁🫰🏼😁🫰🏼😁🫰🏼😁🫰🏼

namjoon: woah

did we

did we just end a conversation normally….

oh my god

wow

guys wow omg

this is the first time this has happened

wow

i’m in shock

this is such a big step for us

i’m so proud

um

wow

what do i even say rn

….

um

yoongi: how about goodbye

blowing up my phone for no reason

namjoon: no ur right i’m sorry

goodbye guys

um

have a good day???

yeah

um wow

yeah have a good day guys i mean it

i honestly and truly mean it

wow

yeah and

yoongi removed namjoon from “BFFS 😁💜”

—

hobi sus

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ SKZ + What they love on you (fashion) ‗ ❍

Pairings : OT8 x reader

Genre/warnings : skz simp agenda. Fluff, lots of compliments and sweet boys. no smut but it's definitely suggestive (18+), boobs and ass are mentioned and reader is female presenting

Summary : Which items of clothing (or related things) I think would drive the boys insane when you're wearing them

Word count : 1.8k

A/n : None <3

masterlist

ps: No beta'd. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan ‗ ❍

- This man would adore you regardless. He's one of those guys who would find it 10x times more sexy or romantic seeing you just being yourself in an intimate setting, like a house, some sort of trip, going grocery shopping and so on. Plus 10+ points if you happen to be wearing something of his.

- Yeah, wear one of his hoodies or shirts and he's already GONE. He's a (simp)le man. Or his beanie, jackets, scarf, anything that could look good on you tbh.

- But hear me out: also his accessories like his famous stay bracelet, or you could even be lovey doveys and share one earring each.

- NAIL POLISH!! Let him paint your nails for you and do silly little designs on them! You'd have so much fun, he'd giggle so much and end you playing with your hands at random times reminiscing the memories.

- Now onto what would ACTUALLY get him going: I think that either a really really nice dress (like a cocktail or party dress) would make Chan go CRAZYYY

- Bonus points if it's black and hugs your body perfectly. Even more if some skin is showing. V neck, shoulders, low back. He LOVES seeing you dolled up and confident and would make sure to boost the energy as much as he can because you deserve it and he wants to make his girl the most beautiful in the world <3

- Okay now hear me out, seems quite specific but random at the same time BUT, what about side boob. You know those loose sleeveless shirts/tank tops? Like the sporty ones? If you ever wore one of those he would NOT be able to control himself. Imagine if you're not wearing anything underneath tho 🫠

- The side boob + nipple shadow peeking...oh he's HARD and only an emergency fuck can fix it for him I fear

Minho ‗ ❍

- Anything that shows your skin is free real estate for this man. Shoulder? Neck? Collarbones? He's gonna BITE.

- Oh but not only. Imagine wearing something that exposes your legs (and maybe some thighs) like shorts or a mini dress, skirts and so on.

- He's so unhinged like he would purposefully drop his keys or something and leave a bite on the side of your thigh when he crunches down. If he's feeling romantic he'd go for a lil kiss but his goal is to make you flustered nonetheless.

- Speaking of touch and kisses: he'd make sure to get his mouth literally everywhere. Picking up your hand to linger his lips on your palm, back, wrist or forearm, fingers.

- Moving your hair to the side to kiss the back and side of your neck. Yeah 🤒

- In general I don't think he has specific preferences in fashion? I just think that he'd love to see you confident and comfortable in whatever you want to wear.

Changbin ‗ ❍

- You're either his little precious porcelain doll or his emo bad bitch. Nor in between. Man CAN do both and can HAVE both.

- I feel like Changbin (like all the others tbh) would be happy seeing you comfortable and confident. Which doesn't necessarily needs to tie with fashion or your looks.

- BUT☝🏻 he'd be a sucker for a good aesthetic look. He'd lose his mind fr, worshipping the ground you walk on, being loud about how HOT his girlfriend his and all that. As he should!

- As I was saying, he'd like both someone who's extremely feminine and delicate, doll like almost. Soft make up, lots of girly clothes, dresses, skirts, stockings, cute hats and accessories.

- But also someone who gives off the same 'dark/emo' vibe that he gives off at first glance. Lots of black, leather, dark colors, laces, a stronger make up, some edgy accessories.

- And a resting bitch face that would make anyone run but NOT HIM! You'd look like a cupcake to him regardless. He'd go around gushing and fighting his cute aggression for you by just existing.

- Now, a little treat that would most likely (and fortunately for you😵‍💫) get him turned on would be a GOOD pair of jeans. Either some very tight jeans or some cargo style ones, as long as they show off the delicious curve of your ass he's gone. It's literally over for him.

- Trust him to be EMBARRASSINGLY turned on by this, to the point where he'd ask you to wear some just for him, he'd buy them for you and so on. Your body and your ass are already his constant thought and motivation while he works out so might as well fuel his own delulu fantasies by providing the material, am I right?

Hyunjin ‗ ❍

- Once again, he loves you as you are and would be happy just knowing you comfortable in your own skin. But that won't stop him to try and dress you up like his personal model.

- He would never force on you something, especially if it was something that would make you uncomfortable. But he would give you some suggestions here and there, on how to mix and match some items, which colors he thinks compliment you the most.

- He would love to see you being so confident and happy in the results, too. Just like a painter adding details to his masterpiece.

- I lowkey feel like, since we got Mr. Romantic and artsy boy on our hands, I kinda feel like he'd lose if he saw you wearing something more... ethereal? Like a specifically made dress. It could be the soft palette, the delicacy of laces and pearls, the perfect way that the draping compliments your body and falls perfectly.

- His own personal princess. Yes, I think that he would love to either have you as his personal hot catwalk style model or a literal princess that came out of a painting.

- Speaking of art. You're also his muse, of course. And few things to him are equally as aesthetically pleasing as certified turn on for him like your chest.

- He does love lingerie on you, BUT, if you really want to make him drop on his knees on the spot, just wear one of those pretty corsets. You know, the ones with laces, and ribbons. This is for the bedroom though.

- He'd get equally as horny with any type of garment that gave the same effect though. Like a sweetheart neckline paired with a good bra. A low v neckline dress, a slightly unbuttoned plain shirt. Oh yes.

- Hyune tits man agenda going strong and I'll die on this hill.

Jisung ‗ ❍

- He's a homebody. Being at home and domestic is probably his favorite place after being on stage. I feel like his perfect day would be chilling and having fun at home, where you're most free and comfortable.

- Which is why, while I of course think that Jisung would foam at the mouth with you being all sexy and dressed up, he'd as easily get turned on by a simple home outfit.

- Yoga pants showing your ass, shorts showing your thighs, long oversized t shirts showing legs AND thighs. Bonus if the stuff is his. Bonus X2 if you're not wearing anything underneath.

- Yes absolutely that's enough for him. He loves a nice put up together outfit but would that allow him to take you on the nearest surface and make an absolute mess of you without a care in the world? Probably not, so there you go, you got yourself a winner

- You wearing his old glasses (since he doesn't need them anymore) or even your own glasses get him turned on. Don't ask, he's a pervert.

Felix ‗ ❍

- Felix seems like he has a taste for expensive things. Especially fashion and accessories wise.

- He'd drool seeing you sport a very high fashion item, like peculiarly cut out dress or jacket, something quite unique. He loves seeing you looking like a literal model straight out of a magazine. And would love even more to match with you.

- The matching would be valid for the accessories too. You would share pretty much everything, from the earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, watches, hats, gloves and so on. He'd insist to have always something matching with you.

- In a more intimate setting though, something that you can never go wrong with are pretty sleeping gowns, lingerie sets, silky and lacy pajamas. Something very girly, dollish, delicate, almost innocent. Strictly in pale and pastel colors. He would love to buy them for you, too. As his personal treat.

- The sight of you wearing such a delicate but expensive as fuck bralette and panties that he knows he could rip off of you with his own teeth just makes him nearly cum in his pants.

Seungmin ‗ ❍

- Seungmin would get off on the confidence that you show to others. Whether it is a façade or you're really just a bad bitch, he finds it extremely hot.

- He goes crazy when you dress up smartly, elegantly, and maybe, just a tad provocative.

- A normal blouse, elegant. But that shows just enough cleavage when you move or bend in certain ways. Cigarette pants perfectly ironed, peofessional. But that make the curve of your ass so delicious. A normal pair of black Louboutines, with that sexy red heels.

- It makes him hard because he feels superior in knowing exactly what's behind that façade and that he's the only one that you'd be willing to drop it for.

- Extra points if he saw you getting ready and you're the only two people in the room who know that a pretty, lacy red lingerie set is hiding under all those elegant and composed clothes. You'd get him thinking about it all night.

- I also feel like he'd have a thing for your legs being shown off and your nais being done, maybe even when you're wearing a particular perfume. Maybe HIS, perfume.

Jeongin ‗ ❍

- Jeongin would be a sucker for you acting cool. Like standing there with some sporty clothes and a pair of sunglasses and a nice perfume. That's enough for him to simp HARD.

- He'd love to go shopping together and purposefully buy stuff that you could easily switch and match with each other. You're boyfriend and girlfriend yes but you are COOL boyfriend and girlfriend ykwim.

- In a more formal setting, he particularly loves when you wear dresses that have low cuts. Somewhere. Whether is a frontal low cut, a side low cut, a back low cut, or a high slit on the bottom part.

- The idea that all it would take for him to take it off you is just a flick of his fingers gets him CRAZY. Especially if they are dresses that require to not wear a bra.

- All that bare back, shoulders, neck, chest...idk man in his opinion it should all be covered in kisses, licks and bruises IMMEDIATELY.

- Bonus if you wear a high slit dress and you make him understand that you're not wearing panties underneath. Now you're in for a treat...

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

OK LUKE X CHILD OF ERIS

The goddess of chaos,and reader fucking has wings!

𝒞𝒽𝒶ℴ𝓈

I LOVE THAT???? THIS IS SO GREAT, also im so sorry this took me a while to finish ): ugh

Warnings- profanity, beating someone up (what’d you expect tho), mention of blood

As your mother didn’t have a cabin, you spent years in the Hermes cabin. You were her only child, no sense in making a new cabin, plus, Dionysus and the others didn’t like Eris at all, she was one of the most hated among the Gods.

And since you’ve been there for so long, you became close with the Hermes children as a child. You became especially close with one boy named Luke.

Growing up, the two of you would pull pranks and mess around with the heads of camp. Dionysus, the old counselors, Chiron, and at one point the Gods themselves.

The Gods disliked you and your mother never talked to you, you were bound to cause trouble.

You had proved to be quite a problem around camp, and somehow managed to still become a counselor.

Now you were skipping stones on the lake, after cancelling the lessons you had with some campers.

“Thought you had lessons.” A voice said, coming up behind you. You didn’t have to turn around to know it was Luke.

“I cancelled.” You replied, only turning when he came next to you.

“Why?” He asked, picking up a stone from the ground and skipping them with you.

“Didn’t feel like it today.” You said with a small shrug, your wings were tucked but slightly fluttered as you moved.

“Mmm.” He mumbled, and you both skipped the stone at the same time.

“Looks like I win.” You said with a smirk on your face. He groaned.

“You always win.”

“So, why are you here?” You asked the boy, turning to him now.

He shrugged. “Bored.” Lie. He wanted to see you.

You nodded. “Well, i would say we should fuck something up but I’m guessing you’re busy.” You spoke, looking around the scene.

“Never too busy for you.”

You rolled his eyes at his flirtatiousness, you two often “jokingly” flirted and teased, you shoved his shoulder and he just laughed.

“You’re weird.” You spoke, walking away. He followed and was soon walking next to you.

“I’m weird?” He scoffed. You gave him a glare.

“Sorry, I was joking.” He held his hands up in defense. You walked back to camp, new campers were being brought in.

“Hey, uh, I’m really sorry, but do you think you guys could show the new campers around? I have a uh… emergency.” One of the Aphrodite counselors spoke, coming up to you both.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” You asked her, not believing her for a second.

“One of my sisters is in the infirmary.”

Before you could speak, Luke spoke. “Okay. Yeah. Sure, no problem.” You nudged him in the arm.

She thanked you and ran over to another cabin.

“Dude!”

“What?”

“She’s lying.” You motioned to her now running over to her boyfriend, kissing him with a smile on her face.

“Oh.”

“Jesus Christ, you need to learn not to be so nice to everyone. She’s an asshole.”

“One of us has to. Why’s she an asshole?” He shrugged, looking at the campers.

“Because. I can just tell.” He furrowed his eyebrows and just began to talk to the kids.

“Okay, hello, everyone! Welcome, to camp half blood. I am Luke Castellan, and this is Y/n L/n. We are going to be giving you your tour instead, on account of…”

“On account of him being a naive idiot.” You spoke to them, a small smile on your face as you motioned to luke.

He rolled his eyes. “Ignore her. Any questions before we start?”

“Uh, how will we know who our parents are?” One asked.

“Well, if your Godly parent is nice enough to, you will be claimed after you show some sort of glory.”And if you’re lucky enough, you’ll get your own cabin. Clearly I did not get lucky enough.” You told them, mumbling the last part.

The campers looked confused.

“Okay… any more questions?” luke asked.

“Why do you have wings?” One asked, their voice curious.

“Yeah, I’m not answering that. Any non-personal questions, you jackasses?” You asked, loudly.

Luke’s hand flew to your mouth. “Let’s get on with the tour, shall we?” He said, a nervous smile on his face.

The kids didn’t seem to have any now. They walked as Luke spoke, showing them around. Luke didn’t notice however, that you had snuck off to somewhere until he turned around to ask you something.

He sighed, calling your name out. Of course, you came back with a bloodied nose and knuckle. He groaned, all the new campers whispering and talking about it.

He came up to you, grabbing your wrist.

“I leave you alone for 10 seconds! What the fuck happened?!”

You shrugged, feigning innocence as the same counselor who lied was dragged out from behind, you whipped your head the other way.

Wiping the blood from your nose, you had a proud smile on your face as you turned back to the kids.

“So, how was the tour?”

[kangmoon27]

UNWANTED | JUNGKOOK ONESHOT?

Pairing: King/brother Jungkook × slave/older sister YN.

Summary: In past life he's your lover but what will happen if at the present time he became your brother. Will you still be able to love him?

Growing up you really hate it when your little brother keeps on annoying you, well likewise tho. He also hates it when you do that to him but one thing for sure is that your bond with each other made your relationship strong.

Jungkook is a sweet, childish, fun yet so protective. He never wanted to see tears coming from your eyes, he hate it. When he saw you crying on your both mother's funeral he promised himself that it will be the last time he will see tears from your eyes.

He took good care of you, even tho you're the older between the two of you, he's always the strongest one while you're the fridge. He love you a lot that you couldn't even imagine.

He's such a sweet brother, a sweet brother that will make sure his older sister is always safe and sound. You love him too, so much. Even tho you aren't as strong as he is, to have courage to protect him, you will still do everything and anything for him. That's how siblings are for right.

But

It all changes, you started growing apart for him after one mistake, just one mistake and everything just thrown.

[

"Cause you we're never mine!!" Screaming at the top of your lungs while crying in full of tears. You love him, you surely do but it couldn't be.

"Look at me, I'm nothing like you!!." Pointing at yourself, you dropped your knees on the dirty ground as you cried you heart out.

"You don't know how much it hurts loving someone from different world. I'm a slave that serves you my prince, not a woman who's supposedly be inlove with you. But I love you" The man step forward. He couldn't just watch his woman crying in pain that he created.

He wanted to hug her, kiss her to stop her from crying, wipe her tears but something is holding him back. As he stepped forward wanting to claim the woman he loves in his embrace he was stopped by himself.

Closing his open palm and turn his head around. Closing his eyes tight while his right hand hardly gripped on his sword placed the right side of his hips.

"You're right, you're a slave that will never reaches the level to become my woman. So you're right. I wasn't yours, never gonna be yours. This confession of your is worthless. You better wake up from your dream slave."

]

Wake up from your dream. You woke up from your dream only to find yourself crying in bed of tears. Your brother walks in and saw you crying while sitting in bed, without waisting a second, he immediately run towards you and asked.

"Noona what happened? Why are you crying again?" As soon as he asked that you turn your head on him while staring directly to his eyes with teary eyes and with that'        you saw him. You saw him in him, you saw your man in him.

While Jungkook was about to wipe your tears, you pushed him making him fell on the ground, as his back meet the floor. You just look at him and immediately walked away leaving him.

Soon the little boy tried in tears. He knows he's the reason why you had an accident but it's never his intention, he could never hurt you. But what happened just happened.

"You pushed him? Girl that so rude!! He's still your brother, come on Yn. That was an accident. You don't think your lovely Jungkook would do something like that to you right!! Mostly him!! He won't even let a mosquito bite you!! Then he would plan to grown you?!." You've been being scolded for almost half an hour not but your attention is not on it. Not even on this universe or should I say in this present time.

"Have you find the history book of the Jardons? Mostly their lasted king?" You look at your friend but she just shook her head.

"You know it's really hard to find it, everyone must forget about it!! Jardon is just a small land, there's no much about it believe me."

"Noo!! There's a lot about there that I need to know!!" You suddenly raised your voice without you knowing.

"Okay okay relax girl, you don't need to shout. Don't worry I'll ask my friend to search for it again."

You open the door and walk in only to find your little brother sleeping on the couch. You examine his face and while looking at him you found yourself crying after feeling a strike of pain straightly hit your heart.

You felt sorry for him. You feel like you betrayed him or something and you regret it. But why? Why are you feeling like this.

The little boy Opened his eyes and saw you standing there with looking at him. Before he could even notice you immediately wipe your tears and started walking away but he's fast enough to grab your hand and turn you around.

"Noona tomorrow is my birthday remember. I'll be turning 18, can be go out tomorrow just the two of us?." Jungkook had a high hope that you would agree cause you always does but his smile immediately dropped when you said.

"For what? So that you can plan to k!ll me again? No I don't want to." Pushing his hand as you walked upstairs. He couldn't believe what you just said. How could you accused him for something you didn't and would never do. You're his older sister and he loves you so much more than anything. He never thought one mistake can broke you two apart.

Honestly you don't know why you hate Jungkook. Maybe because all the memories you keep on recalling is him hurting you from the past. But that's the past now.

It's your past life right? It's not the same like now. He's your brother I'm this present time, your lovely brother but how come you just couldn't help yourself but to hate him.

You're being selfish and you don't know why.

It's the Prince 18th birthday. It's almost time for him to pick a woman to marry. A perfect bride that will be by his side while rulling the whole kingdom.

Staring at himself in the mirror. He knew any seconds from now he will be crown as the king of Jordan and will be needing a woman by him side to be his queen that is why every princesses from different countries were invited but the eyes of the Prince is only settled for someone.

While fixing his layered shirt he saw your reflection through the mirror while wiping the floor. He couldn't take his eyes of you, he could imagine you waring a white pale gown ready to marry him but it would be impossible.

[

You saw a shining black shoe Infront of you and you knew exactly who it was. You bow at him while you landed your head to the floor as a sign of respect to the next king.

Slowly standing from the ground thinking your present is annoying the king after your confess last night, you remain your head on low while waking backwards.

The prince was hurt by it. He only wanted to be close next to his woman but you're the one who's distancing from him. "I didn't order you to stop cleaning lady Yn."

All you could do is to gulp hard. Closing your eyes at the same time forgetting about your dignity you open your mouth but couldn't say a word. No words came out, bitting your lip hard trying to hold your tears. You just bow at him several times before walking to the corner of his room far away from him and started cleaning the floor again.

He you you're avoiding him after what happened last night and he could blame you for it except, he keeps on blaming himself for being coward and not fighting for you. He chooses to be stuck in this castle where he will rule the world without you rather than just being happy with you while having a simple life. It's you against everyone who's life depends on him.

It hurts for him not to have the woman he loves but for the sake of his people he's willing for give up his happiness even tho it means giving you up. Hiding the shiney ring from his pocket while staring at you silently. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His decision is final, he already give up on you.

While brushing the ground you heard the door if the room closes. You stoped and turn to look around only to find yourself empty inside the room but except yourself.

Just as you're about to stand up the bells started ringing same as the trumpets busting. Your knees weakened. It happened, he's the king now, your chance of being with the man that you love decreases. Falling on to your knees as you watch yourself crying for your broken heart.

]

It's Jungkook 18th birthday. You woke up early expecting him to be sleeping but to your surprise he's already gone, you search for your brother all day long but you failed to find him. Even after that day ended he's still no where to be found.

Soon a knock on the main door grab your attention. It's already 1am and you saw your brother walking in after you open the door.

"You've been out all day!! Where were you?!" He just looked at you and get up while trying to walk away from you but you immediately stoped him.

"Jungkook are you even listen?! I'm talking to you don't you dare disrespect me I'm still your sister!!"

You couldn't believe him, you already shouted at him but yet he's just staring at you. Till he pulled you into a tight hug and started crying on your shoulder.

"Are you still mad at me Noona, you knew I wouldn't do such a thing to you like that." You were taken aback but immediately hug him. He's your brother after all. It hurts you seeing him like this all because you believe those stupid dream of yours.

And even if they're true you shouldn't hate Jungkook cause now it's a different time and different purpose. You're his sister and you won't let him down.

[

He's married. The king is married and it's not you who owns him, he's right. He will never be yours.

He loves to make you suffer, suffering you for keeping you close to him. Like so close. He official positioned you to be his personal servant. The one who dressed him, bath him. Almost everything.

But for him, it's not about making you suffer, it's about still keeping you from himself. You might call it suffering but for him it's his happiness that even though he's married and become the king he could still be next to his beloved woman.

You're standing I front of him, fixing his layered shirt while all he did was to stare at you. He has already memorized every inch of you. Mostly the movement of your lips, you bite your lips when you're nervous, you lic your lips when you're scared, you dig bite your tongue when when you're in pain to stop yourself from crying. He already knew all about you.

Or maybe not all. Not your life outside his kingdom.

He caresses your cheek while smiling at you, you got startled and immediately pushed his hand away, he found it cute when you do that "you look so beautiful lady Yn".

Your eyes meet his and found him smiling so beautiful at you but with mo time you turn your head down at him and bow. "You're all dressed, I'll take my leave now your highness."

You repeatedly bow at him while Jungkook just chuckles. He loves seeing you nervous around him knowing that he still has effect on you but his beautiful smiled dropped when he saw what's on your finger.

"A ring? Where did you got that ring?" He stepped forward trying to look at it but you immediately hide it and he didn't like what you did. Poking his inner cheek and walked towards you. Pulling your hand and it's confirmed it's a ring.

"A engagement ring?" The king asked.

Silence.

"To whom?"

Silence.

"I SAID TO WHOM?!".

He saw you biting your lips while digging your nails through your skin. You're nervous. You keep your head low, but he wanted to see you, he wanted you to tell him that it's just a misunderstanding and you will not be marrying someone else.

He gripped on your chin making you face him. "It's not real right? Tell me it's not a engagement ring, it's just a mistake right? A misunderstanding right?."

You shook your head while crying, you tried pushing his hand but his gripped tighten more.

"Why are you shaking your head? Why are you not answering?! Why are you not saying no?!!".

"I-Im getting married your high."

With your low voice you manage to tell him the truth. He was stunned, he couldn't move his feet, his eyes just locked on you. This is his greatest fear, Losing you.

He thought by keeping you close to him would make your love for him grow farther but he was wrong, it only keeps you away from him.

"You're not." He said.

You gulp as you bow at him.

"I'll be leaving the castle next week before my wedding your highness."

You look at him one more time before taking you leave.

As soon as the door closed the king lost his temper and throw everything on the ground. He thought he could keep you for himself for life time now that he's the king but he's wrong.

Was his marriage the problem? Is that's why you left him for someone else?."

You're been gone for 2 days now and the king feels like losing his mind if he didn't take a glance on you even just a day. He's hiding behind the trees while watching the heart breaking scene Infront of him.

You laughing while having fun with a man. You look so happy having this kind of life. The man chase you from behind and once he capture you he started tickling you.

This is exactly how he imagine a life with you but seems like it's too late. He didn't choose you, he chooses his people not you and he had to accept it, but he just couldn't.

With a heavy heart Jungkook turn his head and left. His heart couldn't take it anymore it's too much pain.

You heard about the divorce of the king and the queen and at the same time the monarch's problem issues. It's starting to dropped. People doesn't want Jungkook to be their king anymore after the issues about divorce.

You came back to the castle to see what's happening and when you saw it, it's already burning in fire. Turned out the country that the queen's belong started a war between the Jardons after their divorced. They burned the castle while the whole land is under attached.

You reach inside trying to find him till you finally saw him. He's in your cabin, your old cabin that you used to stay when your still working here.

He's not not even moving a bit, he just sit there holding your dress. Your heart broke into pieces. You know it's already him even if you will try looking for someone new.

"Your highness, the kingdom is burning, we must leave."

He slowly turned his head on you. A flash of smile appears between his lips. "My greatest mistake is not divorcing her and destroying my kingdom but it is choosing my people who's life depends on me and letting someone else steal my woman. Losing you is my greatest regret."

He hugged your dress while he begging to sob.

"I-it's supposed to me my wedding day your highness" He look up to you while you broke in tears and run to him, hugging him tight while he did the same.

The temperature of the room started getting hotter than earlier but you seems to not care. Jungkook took your hand and put on the ring he hides for years.

"If both of us die here then let's make a promise to be us again in our next life." You said while kissing his forehead.

As the kingdom continually burn down a big pale of wood landed on both of you.

Jungkook is looking at your painted poster that he did it himself when he's still part of monarchy. A beautiful smile appeared on his lips.

"After 3 years my love I can finally be with you, wait for me and I'll be there right next to you."

As the former king of Jardon Jeon Jungkook survived when the kingdom was set on fire the new king ex'cuted him, but for Jungkook it's not a punishment but a gift cause finally get can be with her while completing his promise for her that he will not take his own life but waited for it's his own time.

]

You woke up and open your eyes. You saw tears coming out from his eyes while he's asleep. You wipe his tears making him open his eyes slowly.

"What happened kook? Are you okay? Did you had a dream?" You asked your brother who's laying next to you.

He immediately hugged you " Lady Yn d'ed 3 years after King Jungkook and you are three years older than me Noona do you think we're their reincarnation?."

His question made you stoped. He dreamed about them too. But you don't know how what to do. Should you say yes or no? You're not even sure.

Did their sorry ended like that or there's more? More to discover about them?.

"That's just a bad dream, it's not true, it's not true Jungkook."

But that's not where it ends...

King Jungkook made a promise before his d'ath that he won't stop until it's finally you and him. It's not just one time but a several more past life of different time that you still haven't succeed to finally be together. Will that be on this current time? But how? He's your brother.

[ghoulsgraveyard]

Wear Them 2/3

a/n: so i decided to split this into three parts because i felt bad about how long its been since an update, i needed to feed yall. so this will have to tie you over until we get into the good shit. i may split this again just bc this fic has a mind of its own. this is not proofread, i will proof read it later tho.

warnings: Content warnings: feminization (reader calls Eddie a girl), panty theft (obvi), subsequent panty wearing, perv!eddie, degradation (the fun kind), fem!reader, reader has a vagina, sub!eddie, dom!reader, slut shaming but also virgin shaming (it makes sense don’t worry), some light cock and ball torture (genital slapping), spanking, emotional hurt/comfort (I dont know how that happened it just did) aftercare!

read part one here

You flicked the panties at his chest “you wanted them so bad. Wear them.”

Eddie seemed to realize what you meant in slow motion, putting the pieces together “intended purpose” and talking of him stretching them out… holy shit. You wanted him to wear your panties, and even more shocking to him, he wanted that too.

His mouth gaped like a fish, his lack of response causing you to pause “is that- would that be something you would want to do?” his response was immediate “yes fuck yes please uhh yes I feel like I should call you something other than your name while we do this or maybe I'm over thinking this and you’re not into that and the whole idea of calling you something else isn’t because I want to do this with someone else because uh im uh only interested in you and doing this with you and uh now I'm talking too much an-” shutting him up with a kiss “don’t worry about it baby. You can call me whatever you want, whatever makes you the most comfortable” you smiled against his lips. Eddie thought for a bit “promise you won’t laugh?” he said meekly, still fearing your judgment.

You held your hand up to his cheek and smoothed the skin of his cheek with your thumb, holding his face. In that moment you realized why Eddie was so hypersensitive towards you in particular. He can handle the judgment and ridicule from everyone else in this town, but not from you. You remembered all the times he would look to you after telling a joke to see if you’d laugh, or asking you to double check an assignment, even letting you read his book of lyrics. He had given you every piece of him, he looked to you for your approval, he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, and in that moment you have never felt more important to another human being.

All you could do was smile warmly at him “oh baby I would never laugh at you” he practically whimpered, melting into your hand, then murmured “thank you master” he looked to you, silently asking if you liked that one, the groan you released more than answered him but just to reassure “that’s a great name you picked thank you baby.” Eddie beamed at the praise.

“Okay baby, before we do this I want to make sure you’re happy and safe the whole time, okay lovely? So to check in with you I'll ask you what color you’re feeling. If you feel good and safe say green, if you want to pause or slow down say yellow, and if I do something that makes you feel bad or unsafe I want you to say red. In the event you want to stop or pause or slow down, don’t wait for me to ask you baby, just shout out your color, okay?” he nodded along “I need to hear you tell me you understand baby” “I understand master” you smiled at him “good girl” eddie was immediately confused “I'm- master I'm a boy I'm not a girl” you raised your eyebrow at him, still smiling “honey I think you’re a bit confused, yeah?” you spoke to him like he was a lost dog, he nodded and you pouted at him “okay baby I'll help you make sense” suddenly you grabbed his chin, smushing his face in your hand forcing him to meet your gaze “when we’re playing, you are whatever I say you are. So if your master calls you a good girl, that’s what you are. Got it?” Eddie whined at the roughness of your grasp, “yes master thank you master” you gave him a curt nod “what’s your color baby?” eddie was still reeling but buzzing with excitement “green, master”

“Well?” you gestured to the panties “put them on slut.” eddie was beyond flustered, he began moving, then a truly delicious idea came to you “actually baby just lay there. Master will put them on for you.” he was glowing with embarrassment “what do you say sweetheart?” there was a pause as eddie tried to think of what you wanted to hear “thank you master” you beamed with pride “good girl, you’re catching on so quick! Such a good girl for your master” you swiped the panties off of his chest and settled yourself at the foot of the bed, the image was erotic. This big intimidating man who scared the whole town was trembling on his bed while you slipped a pair of panties between his feet. You swept them up slowly, the hair on his legs being pulled by the fabric, then released. The elastic of the legholes fought to accommodate his large thighs. You situated the underwear in the back first, pulling the gstring up so it sat correctly between his cheeks, now was the fun part. Eddie whimpered and you pull the fabric up in the front, slowly, torturously, the back of the panties pressed and pulled his tender sack while the front was still being rolled up by you. Swift finger adjusting the fabric that pushed his weeping cock against his stomach, you were delighted by a revelation: he was too big. Eddie’s dick was too long to fit in these panties, the elastic stopped about 3/4s of the way up, leaving the rest of him exposed. You watched as the red tip of his aching cock seemed to cry pre-cum, sticking to the patch of hair that trailed from his navel to his bush. You leaned back to take in the image. It was beautiful.

You looked at him from all angles like he was an art piece, how the straps sat above his hipbones, the way the elastic stretched to accommodate the cock sticking out of the top, how his full hairy balls couldn’t fit in the crotch and were practically cut in half by the g-string, the delicious way the fabric desperately stretched to hold his hard cock, practically busting at the seems. It was beautiful.

Eddie couldnt help but squirm under your watchful eye, and for the obvious reason. He whined which caused your gaze to snap back at his face “you look so pretty baby” you cooed at him “so pretty all dressed up for your master, such a pretty girl” eddie blushed and hid his face behind his hair when you called him that. He feels like he shouldn't like it as much as he does. You pet his face “you like that don’t you sweetheart? Hmm? You like it when master calls you a pretty girl?” clearing his throat “y-yes master I like being your pr-pretty girl” he was so bashful it was adorable

“why don't you go look at yourself in the mirror?” you stood up off the bed and offered him a hand, which he took shakingly, you led him to the full body mirror in his room, then stood behind him, both of you looking at him. Eddie rotates his hips, looking at himself from different angles just like you did. Your hands wrapped around his chest and grazed his torso with featherlight touches leaving goosebumps in their wake “look at you” you whispered “just gorgeous” your hands made their way down to his groin “such a pretty cock all wrapped up in lace” you squeezed his dick, hard. He hissed at the feeling “hurts'' he said through his teeth “good hurt or bad hurt baby?” you rubbed your palm over his bulge “g-good hurt.” a grin split your face “oh that’s good baby. You like it when your master hurts you?” you grabbed the leg holes of the panties and pulled them up roughly, causing the g-string to harshly dig into his balls, Eddie yelped at the sensation, the sound quickly morphing into a moan.

You bark out a cruel laugh at his response. “Well?” you growl at him, Eddie pants, his mind empty, his wide eyes bright but thoughtless, his jaw slightly dropped so his pink lips form an ‘o’ as he pants “I asked you a question. I expect you to answer me.” Eddie desperately wracks his brain for the question, finally he remembers, stuttering out “Y-yes master I l-love, I love it when you hu- hurt me master.” Whines caused him to interrupt himself, in his empty head all he could think about was how he could please you, impress you, you seemed happy when he talked, so he tried again to form words “Th-thank you for being so p-patient with m-me master” he gasped out. You gasped in delight, smiling wide “Oh baby look at you! My good girl has amazing manners. So proud of you sweetheart. I’m so happy with my little slut” Eddie soaked up the praise like a sponge to water, bathing in the warmth and depravity of your words “You’ve been so good for me, i think you deserve a reward.” you whisper to him like a secret “what do you think?” he nods quickly, hair shaking with the motion “yes master I would like a reward please.” you dig your nails into his hipbones and roughly pull him back onto the bed so he’s sitting back to chest with you facing his mirror. You lick and bite at his earlobe while snaking your legs to sit over his thighs, somewhat restraining him with your body. You let your fingernails drag up his hip bones and dance across his torso, his abdomen twitching at the light touches, cock continuing to drool just below his navel. Your fingers skirt up to his chest, drumming your fingers on his pectorals before allowing yourself to lightly circle his right nipple with your finger tip, the rosy bud hardening as you circle in tighter, you repeat the ministration on his other side before taking each nipple between your pointer and thumb. Eddie lets out a low hum at the sensation. You gently roll the skin between your fingers, gradually increasing pressure, until you’re fully pinching him. He squirms in your hold letting out whimpers and moans. You smile and continue to roll and tug at his sensitive skin, his hips jumping when you slap his chest. His gasp transfers seamlessly to a loud moan, skin prickling in reaction. “That feel good, little one?” you smile, already knowing the answer “uh-uh-huh feels really” you interrupt him with a slap to his other nipple, causing him to moan loudly “really, r-really good” the rest of his response came out in a whine. His head rolls back to rest on your shoulder, bangs sticky with sweat against his forehead, eyebrows pulled together with fluttering eyelids occasionally revealing the whites of eyes rolled back, mouth hung open in pleasure. He looks depraved. He looks divine.

You drag your nails across the reddened and raised skin “it’s a little bit funny” you muse “because you’re a slut, but you’re such a little virgin huh baby?” he whimpers, you continue “it’s pathetic, it really is, but it’s endearing how hard you try. Try hard to come across as this big scary man out in the world, but i slap you around and suddenly you’re my pathetic little girl. You’re not scary at all, you couldn’t hurt anything.” he nods in agreement, you lick the skin between his chin and his ear, biting his earlobe before you whisper “but I can” he whines loud and high in his throat, at the sensation and your promise of delicious pain. “Wh-what do you mean master?” he licks his lips, eyes straining to look at you from his place on your shoulder “oh all sorts of good hurt i could give you. I was thinking, because of how much you like when i slap you, i’d like to see your pretty ass over my lap.” He blinks at you slowly “Thats your cue to lay yourself over my lap baby.” He quickly scrambles into position in a manner who’s absence of grace is substituted by enthusiasm.

taglist:

@g4ys0n @sunxflowerlou @maxwiththeaxe @creepyco13 @billhaderstan420 0 @ilovestrongmen @sad1st1c-wh0re @santawasbisexual

[nogenderbee]

Chapstik challange with Akito, Toya, Tsukasa, Rui

TagList: @bleachtheidiot - come get your boys~

@vodka-glrl - come get your ginger tsundere~

@miya-akane - come get your ginger tsundere and calm coffee lover~

@alicewinterway18 - come get your future star!

⊱ when you first suggested that to Akito, he told you that it's stupid and he won't even try it

⊱ although with enough forcing asking, he'll finally agree, not thinking much of it which he regrets later

⊱ once you get all the chopsticks ready, he realizes that he'll have to kiss you to guess the flavor and he does his best to not start blushing

⊱ he'll actually do his best and tries to guess it accurately but somehow he just can't focus on the flavor because of how emberrassed it is

⊱ you can give him the easiest flavor and he'll say something completely different

⊱ if he looses too much, he'll definitely say that he doesn't want to play anymore and the two of you should simply so something else

"It must be mango, right?"

"It's strawberry..."

"This game is stupid! Let's go out and not do this stupid challange!"

⊱ if he feels determinated today tho, he'll actually keep trying his best but will eventually give up on 3rd try either way

⊱ if you ever mention it, he'll say that he doesn't remember anything like that or that it was once and he was just tired

⊱ Toya at first doesn't even know what it is but once he hears it, he agrees out of curiosity

⊱ he doesn't look when you apply or prepare chopsticks since he doesn't want to cheat

⊱ the thought of kissing you to win isn't really emberrassing to him, he thinks it's normal for couples to kiss and if it has to do with fun game then he'll kiss you even happier

⊱ he's surprisingly really good at guessing flavors, you literally can give him the most hardest and complicated flavor, and he'll guess it by just one smooch

"Is it raspberry-mint soda candy flavor?"

"Uh... yeah... how did you got it?! Are you cheating?"

"I just recognized the taste."

⊱ he's really being honest about it so just add some extra kisses for this boy as a reward for playing fair and winning

⊱ he'll actually tell about his experience himself if someone asks him since he doesn't have anything to be ashamed of

⊱ he'll definitely ask you someday after that if you want to repeat this little game

⊱ Tsukasa hears about it but was never really interested in rules and how it works so he also doesn't know what it is at first

⊱ once you explain it to him tho, he's a little flustered but still decided to do it because true star never rejects a challange

⊱ once you start getting chopstick ready, he's getting nervous

⊱ and when it's finally time for him to kiss you, his face is in all shades of red

⊱ he kisses you so fast that he probably can't even recognize the taste but still says that it's enough for him

"Umm... is it... watermelon?"

"No... that's totally not it. Do you want to have another taste?"

"No! No! No! Let's just move onto the next one! Or maybe we should go out instead?"

⊱ he suggests ending challange and instead going out somewhere after first chopstick, not because he didn't liked kissing you, he's just too flustered to keep doing it

⊱ if you continue tho, he'll try to win at least one since a true star should win but after some loosing, he gives up

⊱ this little flirt knows well what it is and what's it about, in fact Rui probably suggests it himself

⊱ but if you ask him that first, he'll immediately agree with iconic smirk on his face

⊱ he really doesn't guess a single bit what the flavor is and goes complete opposite way

⊱ although fact that he doesn't tell you correct answer doesn't mean that he doesn't know it

⊱ truth is, he recognizes the flavor immediately but just decided to not tell you and instead ask you for more kisses so he can finally guess correctly

"It's lemon, right?"

"It's completely not it! I'll maybe give your easier flavor..."

"No need, I'll get it eventually. Just let's kiss once more and see if this time I'll be able to figure it out!"

⊱ he kisses you for so long that it's basically impossible that he couldn't taste it well

⊱ if you catch him tho, he'll admit it without any shame saying that since it's figure out, you might as well keep kissing

❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉⊱•═•⊰❉

[skwhluvr]

kim taerae as your boyfriend | headcanons

❀ paring: kim taerae x gn!reader 

❀ warnings; pure fluff, i call him a loser bf, lowercase, kind of proof read. i think thats it ?!

❀ a/n : this is my first time posting 😓 bit scared. apologize for any grammatical errors. exams are around the corner and i do this instead of studying. lowkey a self insert?? but enjoy it !! 🤍++ was listening to double take by dhruv writing this. sets the mood well !

taerae your cutie pookie boyfriend ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

he’s a math major or something close to mathematics, something like engineering.

actually I see him do economics (maybe because i wanna do it)

minor in psychology just because I said so. because of his curiosity, though he might drop it later realizing it's not for him

bf!taerae will remember to bring you either a snack or coffee or a drink to help you get through your morning because let's be real most of arent really a morning person

he would be gamer bf too. so sometimes you might find yourself competing for his attention with a game. not to worry tho he would cuddle with you and give you unlimited amount of kisses!! :D

he would love to have study dates !! it doesn’t matter what you’re studying. he will make sure to at least have one date where you but just study.

gives him a chance to admire your focused look and snap some cute pictures, which he can look back and smile giggle at loser bf taerae all the way ☝️

I see him sending you good luck texts before exams. reminders on to eat or get enough sleep.

he would leave some kinda snack or nuts on your table while you study for your exams. because thats something your mom did for you all the time. #asiancoded

he would wait for you after your exam and give you a hug the moment you see him saying you did well. you do the same for him. 

if your exams clash y’all meet up later on the day and discuss about how the exam went and do some kinda stress relieving activity like watching a movie or "attempt" (keyword attempt) bake something 

on the last exam you have he would surely be waiting for you with some kinda sweet or drink that you love with a cute note saying you did well !

HE IS SO AFFECTIONATE YOU FEEL LIKE YOURE NEXT TO A PUPPY !!! <33 ALSO SOMETIMES HES SO ADORABLE YOU HIDE THE URGE TO EAT HIM ‼️🤍🤍

he would welcome you everyday like he hasn't seen you for ages (even if it's just been 10 mins).

i feel like his love language is quality time and act of service with with a sprinkle of physical touch !

when you're with his friends, he'll naturally have his arms around you. not in a possessive way, rather because its comfortable. his friends loved you and prefers you over him. dont tell him that tho 

playful fights with junhyeon on who should get more affection. honestly youre a junrae in secret but taerae doesn't need to know that. youre so happy that he has someone he can be that close with !!

what else from zb1 i feel like you will be close with matt , ricky and gyuvin maybe gunwook too? the moment you see yujin you'll adopted him without a second thought you'd even fight the zb1 boy's for his custody.

guitar classes everyday ! it’s sometimes educational, other times he'll play your favorite songs for you. he just loves to flex his guitar skills.

you enjoy it as much because you see his cute smile, more bonding time and you also get to take cute picture of him or videos. 

this is so domestic im feeling single.

he would send you a random cafe or restaurant he sees, suggesting to go there and try to it. later on both of you will rate the food, the service and the aesthetics and decide if it’s worth to go again.

 he would have some thing you've given him or a remind of you in his car or wallet or phone so there is piece you with him always <\3

in conclusion i want a bf like taerae <\3

[anonymergremlin]

Hello~✨️i would like to ask for letters I,J and K with p and carlo(im sorry if it's so much) love your writing😊

(*crowls out(emerges from my hole aka the void Ahh… thank you and sorry for the wait… drops dead it's fine, no worries)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Well dear, what is love? (Baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me… no more~ bonks me into the void). Seriously, what is love? It takes him a while to grasp it, even after he gained some humanity. Just what is love and what kinds of love exist? He knows he loves his father, he loves the people at the hotel and he loves Sophia. But that kind of love is different from the love he has for you. You are more than just family and friend. He takes a while before he says it, but when he does, it comes out of nowhere. Probably after you told him you love him. I honestly think that at that moment he would understand his love.

Carlo Carlo Carlo. He would need a bit of time. Don't get me wrong. He loves you, I mean you are someone who truly cares for him. Someone who is there for him, but the way he feels for you is different from the way he feels for Romeo, the other person in his life who is there for him. Still… even though he knows he loves you, he will give himself time. He would never come out and say it, but Geppetto's behaviour towards him has influenced his feelings. He is a little self-conscious and afraid of what would happen if he said those words. Carlo is just a little scared, but when the time comes, he will say it with all his heart

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Hah! P jealous, hardly exist, not even after gaining humanity. He trusts you, and with good reason. You accepted him and let him choose his own future, to become human. But… does he likes it when someone flirts with you or touches you in a way that is way too friendly, then he will probably glare at them… a little bit… and I promise you, if they really, really cross a certain line… draws some really angry eyebrows on P's face He will make sure to stop the interaction mostly with a rational action like standing between the two of you. >Keeping you away from the other person, making it clear that they should stop and perhaps go away. Violence tho… is his last option, but he will fight if he has to.

Can I be honest? Carlo has a good amount of jealous energy. He is not a toxic jealous lover tho. He will not ask you 24/7 what you did today or say something nasty about it seeing you around other people. >Hell no that is not Carlo, but he will become more insecure. He might threaten someone with a fist in their face, if they truly flirt with you and don't stop. Talk to him, for real talk to him. Make it clear that he doesn't need to feel like this. He is a jerk sometimes, but Carlo is so much more. Trust me, there is beautiful man behind those broken brown eyes.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Before he gains some humanity it feels like you are kissing a stick instead of a young man. He is more like a training puppet for kissing than your lover. Stands still, doesn't move, has no real reaction (He's sorry, believe me). After gaining humanity? Well, instinct takes over. He leans into you gently, tries to find a good angle and makes sure he kisses you long enough. Also… he will try to surprise you with new types of kisses he has seen in drawings or read about. These are usually very innocent, even though those kisses on your neck felt… thrilling. Oh, and he loves kisses on the cheek. Kisses on the lips are on the second place, but kisses on the cheek, just to say something like 'good morning', to greet him or just to reward him, they are on first place.

Carlo's kisses are full of passion, as if his life depends on them. At first they're like P's, but as the relationship grows and he realises that you're going to be there for him… and he's going to be there for you… oh boi. He goes all in. One kiss is never enough, two is okay and three is just perfect. Carlo believes he has to make sure he sends his "I love you" messages with every kiss. In private, his kisses become even more intense. A kiss on the throat, a kiss on the shoulder, a kiss on the neck or a kiss on the… coughs coughs Perhaps spending time with a theatre boy like Romeo has turned him into a hopeless romantic too. Anyway, his favourite places for kiss are his cheeks and forehead. Kiss him on those spots to show your love and affection towards the young man.

[effortandmore]

all that we wouldn't say (myg x knj)

summary: if yoongi told someone that letting go of BTS and namjoon at the same time was hard, it would be a gross understatement. it was, in fact, the worst year or so of his life, but he’s managed to somehow move on. he’s had time, therapy, and lots of friends, family, and work to distract him. things are good now—the best they’ve ever been, maybe. but yoongi knows better than anyone that good things don’t always last, and that point is proven when namjoon shows back up in his life out of nowhere with an album that needs producing and questions yoongi doesn’t have the answers to.

pairing: yoongi x namjoon, yoongi x ofc

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, angst, ambiguous (happy tho) ending

au: canon divergent, post-disbandment idolverse

warnings: a little angst, this is post-disbandment so like... they disbanded and that seems like it should be a warning. the ending is hopeful but not concrete... not unhappy but not like... your traditional happy ending either. smut! bisexual!yoongi (he sleeps with a woman and a man in this fic). penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (f!receiving, m!receiving), namjoon has a praise kink a little bit prob, anal fingering, kissing, idk... bottom!kim namjoon... i think that's probably everything but as always pls tell me if i missed something...

word count: 20k

a/n: sorry that this fic is two months late! this was written for the composition of the century yoongi collaboration. thank you to @kithtaehyung for the banner, and to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. you are all very lovely people and i'm so so happy that we were able to see yoongi together!! that said, all mistakes are mine and they're lovely people who would have caught anything if i asked them to. let's be honest, we're just here for vibes at this point.

read on ao3

He wakes up, and not that he’s counting, but it’s been eight hundred and fifty two mornings that he’s been on his own (he’s definitely counting). By now, that shouldn’t be the first thought that crosses his mind each day, but without fail, it is.

When they were younger, he would tease Namjoon about his penchant for forgetting details—”Namjoonie, everyone knows you didn’t mean to change your stage name, you just forgot what it was supposed to be one day”—to a predictable chorus of responses: falling on the floor laughter from Tae and Jimin, surprise from Hobi, stifled almost-giggles from Jungkook and Jin… 

Now, he wishes he could forget like that. 

Briefly, he wonders what it would be like to wake up in the morning (afternoon, but don’t tell his mother) and not know how many days it had been, to have just a small break from remembering what his life was like before. Instead, every day he wakes up feeling half-right, ruffled, a little on edge, and a lot alone—the last remnants of something like pain that all the therapy in Seoul hasn’t managed to ease. 

Just like the previous eight hundred and fifty one days, he shakes off the disorientation. It happens pretty quickly now—he does it much faster than he used to be able to. His routine now is good, grounding. Coffee first. He goes through the motions, humming a little and tapping out a beat on the counter while he waits for the fancy machine (Jin bought it for him, he was perfectly happy with his old french press) to pull his espresso shots. When it’s ready, he takes it to the piano bench and sits facing the window while Holly spins until he finds himself a seat on top of Yoongi’s feet. Over coffee, he has his first (sometimes only) conversation of the day, 

“Who’s the best boy?” he coos softly. 

“You are… yes, you are.” 

“Are we gonna have a good day, Holly? Hmm?” 

(It’s not for lack of trying that Holly only responds with wide eyes and a wagging tail). 

Then it’s pilates, which he’s done for a while now. Long enough that he can remember getting Namjoon into it, can remember taking online classes together eventually, can remember the first time he tried it again on his own. It’s almost mindless at this point, which today makes him pause to wonder if he should try something new. Is it really a workout if you don’t have to try that hard anymore? Maybe he’s gotten complacent. Or just stronger? He looks at his thin arms in the mirror and smiles. Complacent, he thinks. 

In the shower, he contemplates calling Jin to get together over the weekend. They don’t see each other as much as they used to before Jin stopped coming around the company to record. He knows if he texts he’ll get a call back relatively quickly at least, which is more than he can count on from Jungkook. It’s like this nearly every day—he thinks about who he could call: music friends, old friends, new friends (except you can’t always be sure they’ll actually turn out to be friends, Yoongi knows), and decides to stick with what he knows best. It’s always Jimin, Hobi, or Jin. Always. Tae and Jungkook are too busy, and while he misses them, he loves seeing them so successful and happy. Small victories. 

More coffee while he walks Holly. It’s cold outside, so he’s in as many layers as he could find and cutting their morning stroll a little shorter than he normally would. Jimin always teases him for complaining about the cold, but he lives at least a quarter mile closer to the river than the rest of them, so what would they know, anyway? It’s definitely colder at his apartment than any of theirs, and he’ll die on that hill. 

Finally it’s time for work. He’s lucky that he makes his own schedule and can dick around for a few hours from whenever he wakes up until whenever he decides to work. Not that he doesn’t have things to do and deadlines to meet, he just knows himself well enough to put in the right amount of time and effort nowadays. It’s not worth being burnt out over, which is something a younger version of him would have never thought he’d be someday saying. It’s one of the only things he thinks Namjoon was right about eight hundred and fifty two days ago. 

Here’s where his routine varies. Sometimes he drives, sometimes he calls a driver, sometimes he walks when he’s feeling especially ambitious or nostalgic (it’s not often). Today, he calls a driver. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be there or if he’ll feel like driving when he’s finished, and he hates leaving his car at the company overnight. It’s inexplicable because their security is great, of course. It just makes him feel like he’s stranded in his stupid large apartment with no way out. Trapped. He despises that feeling even if he doesn’t actually end up wanting to leave. 

In the back of the car, he decides it’s a good day. The sun is out, but not harsh, Holly woke up happy, he’s working on a couple of tracks he’s really proud of with people he likes collaborating with, and he’ll probably see Jin this weekend if everything goes to plan. He’s lucky, he knows. Some people don’t have the privilege to decide if their days will be good or not. So, he tries to simply let himself feel content. It’s a challenge, but on the days he succeeds, it’s worth it. And on days like today, he really believes it when he repeats affirmations of his own success and happiness in a silent mantra as the car crosses the river into Gangnam. 

“Morning,” he greets the receptionists. It’s not bright or cheery, because he’s not onto coffee number three yet, but they smile regardless. Neither of them correct him to say it’s afternoon, because he’s who he is and they’re probably intimidated. He wishes it weren’t like that, but his whole last fifteen years has been a testimony to the importance of keeping professional distances, so he lets it slide. It’s not about him; not really. 

The nice thing (one of many, he knows), about being his own boss (more or less) is that he doesn’t have to worry about running to his email inbox first thing to see if anyone needs anything from him. People perpetually do, but hardly any of them sign his paycheck, so they can usually wait a bit. So, he doesn’t bother. He gets his computer on, opens Cubase straight away, and starts work (after he texts to see if someone will bring him coffee number three). It’s peaceful, he likes this track so much it’s going to almost hurt when he’s done with it. That’s the moment he loves and hates the most—the one where something he’s put his soul into transfers ownership to someone else. If you love something, let it go, as they say, but Yoongi’s never really been very good at that. 

The songs he’s been writing for himself have been sad. They’re too honest—pure and crystalline, each verse a surface reflecting another way in which his breakup with Namjoon ruined him piece by piece. The rest of the storyline, where he’s gradually started to put himself back together, has only shown up in his ability to produce songs that are happy, angry, defiant, hopeful… Still can’t write anything like that, though. Has songs he’s worked on for months and the lyrics simply sit in his notebook unedited, unfinished. For someone like Yoongi, words turn the theoretical into the tangible. So, if he never finishes those songs, his pain remains as an idea—the remnants of it haunt him, but he never has to let anyone know that, not really. 

Instead, he can take the words and ideas of others and bring those to life. Maybe it’s healing for them, maybe they’re braver than him, but he plays a small part in their happiness and their success and that’s as worth clinging onto and being proud of as getting his own thoughts to paper would be.  

Later, after coffee and before lunch, he’s immersed in the song, but his phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s annoying and incessant and he can feel it more than he can hear it as he tries to ignore it in favor of working out a harmony on his keyboard. Finally, on what he assumes is the fourth or fifth missed call, he tugs his headphones off and grabs the phone. It’s the fourth missed call, it’s Bang-PD each time, and he can’t place why the man would call him so many times in a row. Then he gets a text that just reads, “Check your email, please.” Ominous or curious, he can’t really tell. 

In his inbox there are a hundred or more unread emails, but one sitting right at the top from his old boss—the subject line reads “Favor,” and it has an attachment. 

The email is simple; just that Bang-PD needs a favor. Needs someone to lead production on an album, and the artist has personally requested Yoongi. Yoongi doesn’t work for him anymore; their former boss has been long replaced by someone a little younger, a little more interested in running the company now that it’s bigger than big with divisions and sub-corporations so numerous that Yoongi can’t even count them all. But… even though he’s not the boss, he’s certainly someone Yoongi owes a favor to. Their relationship is complex—somewhere between friendship and mutual respect… When everything had ended, when Yoongi was lost and low and scared, his old boss was there for him. An ear to listen, a guest room to sleep in, a job when he was ready to do something with himself again… So, even before he knows who the artist is, Yoongi knows he’ll do it. It’s not like Bang-PD sends him shit usually, anyway. If he’s onboard, it’s probably at least half-good already. 

Yoongi pops his headphones back on and opens the attachment. A demo, rough around the edges but well-executed. Good ideas musically, superior ones lyrically. He doesn’t recognize the voice on the track, but he supposes it may or may not actually belong to whomever the song belongs to, anyway. There’s something about the song… something about how the words manage to be melancholy and optimistic at the same time, something about how there are maybe one too many competing sounds in the track… It’s so familiar. He likes it instantly, he also knows he can fix it, he knows it’s good but that he can make it great—doesn’t even finish the whole thing before he texts back. I’ll do it, this is good. Really good. 

The response is immediate. “I knew you’d like it. I’ll be in touch.” 

And just like that, Yoongi has a new gig as the current one is winding down. He still doesn’t know why it carried the urgency of an email and four missed calls and a text, still doesn’t know who the artist is that asked for him, but that’s how it goes sometimes. He’ll know all the details soon enough, he decides. No use in overthinking. 

***

So, life goes on. Work and routine and warmer days as spring rolls through Seoul, and meetings with rappers and singers and other producers… It’s busy in the way he likes, keeps him just on the healthy side of distracted, keeps him feeling productive, human even. His therapist, it seems, was right all along: things seem better with time and distance. 

When he meets Jin a couple Saturdays later for drinks, everything is as it should be, everything is squarely in its place in Yoongi’s carefully crafted world. 

“Yoongi-chi!” 

Seokjin looks happy—bright smile, bright voice, always a little hint of a tease in it. 

“Jin-hyung, I’m glad to see you.” And he is. These are always his favorite parts of the week. He’s wrapped in a crooked hug—Seokjin is and always has been a little awkward with this kind of contact (unless it’s with Jeongguk). 

“Glad to see you, too,” he says into Yoongi’s hair.

They sit, they flag down the server to place their order, and they catch up. Jin’s not making music anymore, but he’s busier than ever with all of his other endeavors: restaurants, makgeolli, commercials, MC gigs… the list is almost endless. It’s good to see him happy, trying new things with his friends. Of all of them, Seokjin’s always been one of the most private, so Yoongi likes seeing him this way, happy and open. It feels like something gifted to him, a part of his friend that not many people will ever get to see. 

“So…” Jin says lazily, and Yoongi knows he isn’t going to like what’s coming next—he knows this tone. It’s the “I’m planning something and I know you won’t like it so I’ve taken it far enough that you can’t back out or argue about it without looking like a dick” tone. Usually only reserved for Yoongi (and used to be Namjoon, too, but Yoongi—thankfully—doesn’t know much about Namjoon and Jin’s current relationship, if they’re still close enough for Jin to pull this kind of shit anymore). 

“You might as well spit it out,” Yoongi murmurs.

Jin laughs and takes a long drink of his beer. “Well… There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

“No.” 

“Yoongi, just hear me out.” He draws out the vowels of Yoongi’s name like he’s already begging. This means one of two things. A music favor or a date he doesn’t want. 

“What’s his name?” 

“Her name.” 

“A singer?” 

“No…”

Yoongi sighs and picks at the label of his beer bottle. “I don’t think I’m ready,” he says. 

“It’s been almost three years.” 

“Time is a construct,” Yoongi retorts. He means for it to be under his breath, but he knows Jin heard him, knows it wasn’t quiet enough. 

“Her name is Hiah. She owns a small soju brand we brought into one of the restaurants. She’s smart, Yoongi, really smart. And interesting, too. She plays the guitar and volunteers at the childrens’ hospital with Iseul. They get along great, and I know you’d like her.” 

Ah… So the truth comes out. Kang Iseul is a force to be reckoned with; you’d have to be to put up with Jin, Yoongi thinks. But Yoongi likes Iseul, respects her, and if she likes this girl… Maybe. “So you want a double date or something?” he asks. 

Jin’s grin reappears as he taps his temple. “Ah, Yoongi-chi, you were always the smartest one in the group.” 

Yoongi scoffs. “When?”

“Next weekend. Saturday. A fundraiser for the hospital. Wear a suit and get someone to do your hair.” 

“Hiah, huh?” 

Jin nods. “Hiah. She’s great, you’ll see.” 

A week later, Yoongi finds himself at the mercy of a stylist at the company who is ensuring he looks photograph-ready. It’s been a while since he’s been forced to shoot anything, dress any certain way, wear any makeup that isn’t of his choosing… He forgot that he kind of likes it—just a little bit, anyway. It’s nice to let someone dress you up and make you look like a different (hopefully better and less tired) version of yourself. 

It’s hard not to sit in the chair and be reminded of how he used to share these moments with the rest of them: how Jeongguk and Jin used to play-fight while the makeup team yelled at them, how Taehyung and Jimin would tease each other and Hobi and whoever else would pay attention to them… and Namjoon—how Namjoon would sit in the back of the room on his phone, always finished first, always pecking out a lyric or a text, meeting Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror every so often and giving a wink or a smirk or just a barely there flash of a dimple when no one was paying attention. 

“That’s a big sigh.” He hears Jin’s voice before he sees him, pulling him back into the present moment. 

“Who let you up here?” Yoongi teases in reply. 

Jin makes flower hands around his chin and pushes his lips out in a half-kiss, half-pout. “Ah, this face still gets me everywhere. Almost ready?” 

The stylist nods for him, and pushes the front of his hair back with one last spritz of hairspray before she signals that he can leave. He stands and bows to her quickly and then checks himself out in the mirror. Not bad, really. Actually, pretty good. His hair is long again, but she’s got it swept off his face, and he looks good in the suit she chose. It’s simple, navy, which isn’t his usual first choice, but looks pretty nice. When he checks out his profile, he decides maybe the pilates are still working just fine. He looks good. 

“Done preening?” Jin asks. 

Yoongi feels himself flush a bit under his makeup. “It’s been a while,” is all he says in return. 

“I know it has.” Jin loops his arm over Yoongi’s shoulders as they make their way to the elevator bank. “But you can do this,” he says. 

Yoongi’s not sure Jin’s right, but he’s gotten this far, so he figures he might as well give it a shot. 

***

Turns out, he ends up being glad he gave Hiah a chance. As promised, he does like her. The fundraiser actually ends up being fun, and it’s mostly thanks to her. She keeps up with Jin, she isn’t shy around Yoongi, she makes jokes (and Yoongi finds a great satisfaction in announcing to Jin that Hiah’s jokes are funnier than Jin’s, which Iseul agrees with, sending Jin into a panic of telling even worse dad jokes than he had been before). Jin was right: Hiah is smart, pretty, and interesting. She doesn’t just play the guitar, she plays the guitar in an indie band, which Yoongi thinks is painfully cool even though he really isn’t supposed to be impressed by that kind of thing anymore. She’s taller than him in her heels, probably a little taller than him without them, too, and looks incredible in her dress, which is off-white and off-the shoulder and shows off her collarbone and the delicate, fine-line tattoo that runs across the length of it, as well as her tanned skin, which Yoongi never has himself and has always been a sucker for. 

When the speeches start, the part of these kinds of events that Yoongi hates the most, Hiah leans in and whispers to ask if he wants to get some fresh air, and then promptly tows him out of the ballroom to a balcony on the next floor. 

“So…” she starts, looking a little unsure and a little wild as they lean against the railing. “Can I be forward with you Yoongi-ssi?” 

Oh, he likes her already. 

“Of course. And just Yoongi is fine.” 

“Iseul tells me you might not be over your last relationship.” 

“Does she?” It isn’t what he expected to hear from her; he was hoping to avoid the ex talk. 

Hiah nods and then turns to look out over the city, holding her weight off of her heels when she leans over the balustrade. “I don’t know if I am either,” she says quietly. “Over my ex, you know. But you’re interesting, and handsome, and pretty obviously out of my league, so…” She lets herself down with a hop. He likes watching her, he realizes, likes her playful body language, likes that she seems to have these bits of energy bubbling in her veins just under the surface of her skin that she needs to let out. She’s different from him in that way. “I think we should just kiss and get it out of the way.” 

“What?” 

She smiles widely. “You know, just see if anything’s there. If there is, maybe we see each other again, take things slow. If there’s not, then… Well, we can tell Iseul and Seokjin we tried and maybe they’ll get off both our backs for a while.” 

“You’re an interesting woman, Hiah.” 

One step closer… then another, and then Hiah is right there, breathing the same air as him, looking down a little at him with a smirk. “I’ve heard that before.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs, and then brings her hands to his lapels to smooth them down over his chest. Something in the back of his poorly-functioning-at-the-moment brain tells him that they were already smooth, that she’s touching him just for the sake of touching… And he thinks he likes it. “I’ve also been told I’m a good kisser.” 

“Interesting…” He chokes it out, nervous, anticipating. Hiah’s clearly holding the reins and Yoongi’s excited, he realizes, to see what she does next. 

What she does is dip her head down and press her lips to his, all softness and kindness and something sweet that Yoongi immediately realizes has been missing from his life for a couple years. Hiah is warm and her lips are plush and when her tongue slips into his mouth, licking softly against his own, she tastes like strawberries and a little like the champagne they’ve been drinking. It’s nice—nice to feel wanted, nice to have the taste and smell of someone else weaving their way through his senses. It’s mostly nice to feel connected to someone. His chest hurts, thinking about how long it’s been since someone touched him like this, since someone showed him affection like this. The kiss is nice, tender, and a little bittersweet as he realizes how different it is… kissing someone that isn’t Namjoon. Without meaning to, he whimpers quietly when Hiah pulls away, already missing the feeling of her mouth on his. Missing the closeness. 

“That was…” he starts at the same time Hiah speaks. 

“Maybe there is a little something there,” she says, eyes wide. He’s relieved that it’s not just his unadmitted loneliness making him think there was a bit of a spark between them, that maybe she felt it, too. 

They share a few more sweet and quick kisses on the balcony, and then the sound of applause floating through the air decides for them that they should go back inside. He isn’t really sure how long they’ve been gone—kissing and laughing and sharing some sense of anticipation under the crescent moon. 

Seokjin literally giggles when they make their way back to the table, as Iseul politely points out that Yoongi has the dark red stain of Hiah’s lipstick on the side of his mouth. He would be embarrassed under most circumstances, but Hiah is laughing when she grabs his jaw gently and dabs at it with a damp cloth napkin. It makes him feel light and more free than he has almost since he can remember. 

He doesn’t escape the teasing from Seokjin for the rest of the night, and for weeks after that. He takes Hiah out a few times, keeping Iseul and Jin in the loop on how things are progressing. Each time he sees her, he likes her more. On the days when they have dates planned for the evening, he finds himself smiling more, focusing less, and even a little giddy looking forward to his time with her. She’s a good companion, still making him laugh like she did the first time they met, still easy on him and a little hard on herself—Yoongi can relate to that. 

Everything is going well, and he has to stop himself from thinking it’s going “too well,” that he doesn’t deserve this kind of happiness, that it’s not meant for him. 

***

The first time Yoongi invites Hiah back to his place after a date, he’s had an objectively good day. He finished the track he’d been working on for Younha, he met with one of the company’s girl groups to see if a song he’d written a while back could work for their new album—they loved it—and he finally got a meeting set up with the management of the artist whose album Bang-PD asked him to produce a couple months prior. 

His date with Hiah that night was great; they met at the company building and then walked to a cat cafe. It was stupid and simple, but they drank wine and ate cake and played with cats, and she was so funny and kind, and whip-smart with her conversation… He felt like he just stared at her the whole time with big, dopey eyes—this girl in baggy jeans and a hoodie with cats crawling all over her lap while she made stupid jokes about Schroedinger—and he knew that he was going to take her home, knew he wanted to try and take things further with her, knew he was about to cross into new territory and he was shitting bricks just thinking about it. 

“Hiah?” 

“Hmm?” She looks up at him and smiles, hands carding through the soft fur of a calico kitten that hasn’t left her side since they got there. 

“Do you… maybe want to come back to my—”

“Yes.” Hiah nods emphatically before he can even finish his sentence, and then they’re both immediately reduced to nervous laughter and shy smiles, downing the rest of their wine more quickly than people should, and scurrying to get a taxi back to his flat. 

As soon as they’re through the door, they’re on each other, Hiah pressed against his door, his hands pushing under her hoodie, and hers in his hair as he kisses up her neck and jaw, warm and soft skin pricking up with goosebumps as he goes. 

“Want the tour?” he asks, a little breathlessly.

“Not now,” she replies. “Just the bedroom, yeah?” 

And then it’s happening. It’s like a fever dream, and he doesn’t even remember how they got there, but she’s naked on his bed (and Yoongi hasn’t had someone naked on his bed in a shamefully long time—not since Namjoon, not since tanned skin and long, thick legs, and playful dimpled grins that are still etched into his brain), and she’s also long and tan and fuck, she’s wet already, he can see it when she opens her legs for him…

The first thing he thinks when he sees her is that she’s so different from Namjoon. And he hates himself a little for even thinking about him in this moment. He wants to give his attention to Hiah—doesn’t love her, but loves spending time with her, wants her to feel good and special and cared for, and thinking about how her legs are long and tan like Namjoon’s but that nothing else is the same isn’t achieving that.

It’s been so long since he’s been with someone, longer since he’s been with a woman, but he finds, as he brings his focus back to Hiah, that it’s the same now as it has been in his memories and fantasies for the last couple of lonely years. She rolls her hips into his touch when he slides one, and then two fingers inside her. When his thumb finds her clit, she whimpers, tells him it’s been so long and he feels so good. She whines again when his lips close around one of her nipples, rolling his tongue around where it peaks and letting his teeth sink in just enough for her to feel it, not enough to hurt. 

He’s hard and he’s self-conscious, because as good as he knows he is at making other people feel good, he also hasn’t been naked in front of anyone since Namjoon. Namjoon with his, “God, you’re so gorgeous, hyung,” and his deep, deep moans, and his jaw clicking around when Yoongi would tease him, making Yoongi feel sexy… powerful even, like he could do anything, ask for anything, and Namjoon would let him, would give it to him. Except when you asked him to stay, his traitorous mind tells him as he slides his briefs off and gives Hiah her first view of all of the rest of him. 

“Fuck,” she says. “Pilates works for you, huh?” as she sits up on her elbows and smirks. It makes him blush, makes him feel good, makes him decide that maybe dating Hiah, bringing her home with him, was one of the best ideas he’s had in a long time. 

“I do okay,” he replies.

“You look great,” she assures him. “Now will you please fuck me?” 

Sex with Hiah starts out fun. They laugh, and their teeth clack together a few times when they try to kiss, and it’s clear that it’s been a little while for both of them, but they eventually find a good rhythm. She’s a little whiny, a little desperate, and Yoongi likes that—it’s a confidence booster, makes him feel like he’s still got “it.” 

At one point, after he’s given her one orgasm already, she gets him on his back, straddles him, and slides slowly onto his dick. It’s the closest to perfect he’s felt in ages. She moves her hips against him, grinding more than bouncing, and it’s just like Namjoon. Just like him. There’s a warm wave of nostalgia that washes over him, and even though her hips feel different, and the soft skin of her stomach isn’t as firm under his hands, if he closes his eyes, he can almost swear he’s gone back in time. Namjoon grinding down on him, whining when Yoongi thumbs at the head of his cock, dragging precum and lube down to the base and fisting him tight. It’s so clear in his memory, the little grunts he would let out, the breathy, “fuck, hyung,” with each upstroke, getting more desperate as he got closer to release. 

Soon, Hiah is moving up and down, riding him fast and hard and he’s got his fingers wound tightly into the bedsheets because she’s not Namjoon—because he doesn’t know where to touch her, doesn’t know what she might like, and if he tries something, it might ruin the fantasy playing out in his head. The one of his best friend fucking himself on Yoongi’s cock until there’s cum all over Yoongi’s hand and chest, until they’re breathless and Namjoon feels like dead weight on him, reeling in his orgasm and just letting Yoongi fuck into him until he’s finished too, letting Yoongi use him to get off and moaning quietly through the overstimulation. It’s perfect, really, because Hiah is bent over him now, kissing her way along his collarbone and chest and it’s warm and wet just like Namjoon would have made him. And she’s giving him soft whimpers that he can distort in his mind to make them sound like Namjoon’s, and nothing is the same about them, not really, but nothing is so different that he can’t imagine it. 

He’s coming before he knows what’s happening, almost saying Namjoon’s name, his hands releasing their tight grip on the sheets to land on Hiah’s hips, to hold her down as he thrusts up into her hard, spilling into the condom. He knows she hasn’t had another orgasm, knows it’s selfish that he didn’t even try to give her one while he was still inside her. As his orgasm fades, the guilt sets in. It’s not fucking normal, he thinks, to be thinking about your ex-boyfriend while some near-perfect girl is hot and tight and wet on your cock, while she’s telling you how much she likes you, how good you make her feel. He feels himself turning red with shame, hopes she thinks it’s sex related… Pulls the condom off and tosses it before he dives back between her thighs to hide his embarrassment. 

It works, at least a little bit, because he loses himself in the way she feels and tastes, and she fucks his face like she’s taking something that doesn’t belong to her, and she whispers something when she comes that doesn’t sound like his name at all. Her eyes are pinched shut and there’s a tear slipping out of the left one, and right then, he remembers what she said the first night they met about maybe not being over her ex, knows what they’re doing is fucked up, but at least they’re in it together. 

They both clean up quietly, he invites her to stay, and she accepts, and he’d be willing to bet money that they’re both in it for the same thing—the delay of the crash that’s coming, the loneliness that will set in when they’re not curled up next to someone warm, someone who shares their pain, someone who gets it. 

Her breath is shallow and warm on his chest, and she’s kind and sweet and sexy, and he wishes he could have done this differently. 

“Are you alright?” she whispers. 

“No. Are you?” It’s honest; probably too honest, but he owes her that, at least. 

Hiah smiles against his skin. “No.” 

“At least we have each other,” he says, knowing it’s not enough and hoping it’ll do, anyway.

“Could be so much worse,” she says.

“The cats were nice.” 

She lets out a loud, bright laugh. “The cats and the orgasms,” she agrees.

***

When he wakes in the morning, he tries to stick to his routine, even with Hiah there. It’s strange to have someone in his space like this, he’s not used to it and it throws him off a little. He doesn’t know anymore how to make the right amount of coffee for two people. Doesn’t remember that Holly has to go for a walk and Hiah is probably a person who eats breakfast and those two things seem exceptionally challenging for him to coordinate properly. But Hiah is easy, relaxed about things in general, so she takes Holly for a walk while Yoongi cooks for them, and by the time they’re done eating and Hiah is borrowing a toothbrush and a towel so she can get ready for work, he almost forgets that he doesn’t know how to do this. 

They part ways when a car comes for each of them, one to take Hiah to her office in Sinchon, and one headed to Gangnam for him. She gives him a kiss before she gets in the car, and they make plans to see each other again on the weekend, and they don’t talk about how she cried, don’t talk about how he was picturing someone else on top of him. It seems like they don’t need to. 

He’s halfway through the day when he gets a “Good job” text from Seokjin with eggplant emojis because apparently they’re still fifteen, which means Hiah told Iseul that they’d slept together, and Iseul told Jin, and Jin is going to want to tease him relentlessly about it—worse than the teasing he was getting for not sleeping with anyone, probably. But they go back and forth for a bit, and Yoongi gets one of the interns to bring him coffee and the good dakgalbi from the place down the street, and he’s still on a bit of a high from the orgasm and the friendship and the food when there’s a knock on his door. 

It’s time for his meeting with that mystery artist, and he’s excited. He’s prepared for it, has ideas for each track that he thinks will help, but also needs to hear all the lyrics so he has a better idea of what they’re trying to accomplish with the songs. 

He’s got a smile on his face when he opens the door to Genius Lab, and it lasts approximately half a second when he realizes that standing in the hallway in front of him, for the first time in years, is Kim Namjoon. 

“Hi, hyung.” 

“No.”

Confusion crosses Namjoon’s face, Yoongi sees it—Namjoon has never hidden his thoughts well, never had a good poker face. “Sorry, I’m not sure what to say,” he says. 

“Me either,” Yoongi says, still in disbelief that this is happening. 

“Can I come in?” 

And that feels… like something Yoongi doesn’t want. Or, at least not right now. That’s his place. It’s private and it’s safe and it’s been redecorated since Namjoon left—the pictures of him all gone except for one of the seven of them at the Grammy awards a long time ago that Yoongi couldn’t bear to shove in a box. 

“I don’t think so,” he says. 

Namjoon looks crestfallen. “Well… okay. Alright… I guess… I guess I can go. Or can we go somewhere else?” 

“I have a meeting with…” And something dawns on Yoongi at that very second. “You. They’re your songs. You’re the one who asked for me.” 

“I did.” Namjoon nods, hands shoved in his pockets, just the right amount of sheepish. It pisses Yoongi off. How does Kim Namjoon have the audacity to think Yoongi owes him anything after everything they went through? After Namjoon left him… 

Yoongi scoffs. “Bold.” 

“Hyung…” 

“I can’t do this right now. I was having a good day, Namjoon.”

“And now you’re not. Because of me?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yoongi mutters it, but not quietly enough that Namjoon misses it. It’s catty and shitty and everything Yoongi has tried so hard not to be. It’s not who he wants to be, but seeing Namjoon in front of him just makes him so fucking mad. Like all of that hurt and sadness and feeling like he wasn’t good enough is just right there, taking a human form. A fucking gorgeous human form, because of course he is, because the universe isn’t fair enough to make him anything but the man of Yoongi’s dreams. It fucking sucks. 

“That’s not fair,” Namjoon says softly. 

“I don’t think you get to decide that.” 

Namjoon’s shoulders slump. “Fine. I deserve that,” he concedes. “But I really need your help with this one, hyung. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. I know what a big deal this is.” And then he digs one of his toes into the carpet, twisting it around nervously. “I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m here, begging. You’re the only one who can make these songs right. I need you.” 

I need you. Those three words hang in the air between them. Namjoon’s face contorts as soon as they come out, like he knows there’s so much more meaning associated with them than he meant for there to be. He has to know that Yoongi has waited for years to hear those words from him. Fucking literal years. He’s had dreams about hearing Namjoon say those three words to him. And yet, now that it happens, he doesn’t feel anything he expected to feel. Not hope, not love, not even anger. It’s just hollow. 

“I need to think about it.” 

Namjoon pauses and sucks in a breath. “Okay, sure… That’s fair, yeah. Thank you. I mean, for even considering it. I know there’s a lot of… stuff here between us and… Well, I’m ready or willing to talk about it… Or whatever you want. If you’re ready, hyung. The ball’s in your court.” 

It takes a lot for Yoongi not to give a snarky reply. He knows it’s fair, more than fair. He doesn’t owe Namjoon anything, doesn’t owe him closure or support or his time. Where was Namjoon when Yoongi wanted to talk years ago? When Yoongi wanted to work through things? But he’s trying, really trying, to not feed his own negativity. So, instead of making things more awkward, he lets out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and nods. “I’ll be in touch, Namjoon,” he says quietly before he shuts the door, leaving Namjoon on the other side. 

There’s something surreal about knowing Namjoon is right there, he thinks as he slumps against the door. Close enough to touch, and Yoongi has been thinking about that touch for years. Part of him is mad—over time, he’s run through a million scenarios in his head, what he would say when he ever had the chance to speak to Namjoon again. None of them had played out like this: more wistful than angry, more heartache than rage. He’s dreamt about giving Namjoon a piece of his mind, and still, given the chance, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to hurt Namjoon, not really. Doesn’t even think it would be worth it—nothing he could do to Namjoon would come close to hurting as much as what Namjoon did to him, so what’s the point? 

A while ago, if this had happened, Yoongi might have panicked. Now, he feels eerily calm about it. He does want to ask some questions, though, so he makes his way back to his desk and sends an email to Bang-PD, asking why he wouldn’t tell Yoongi that the mystery artist was Namjoon. It feels a little like a betrayal, and he wonders if anyone else knew. Did Jin know? Did Hoseok? Yoongi knows he and Namjoon are close. Maybe it doesn’t matter. If he hadn’t been blindsided, he wouldn’t have taken the meeting. So, perhaps, this was the only way to get them in front of each other. 

He leaves early that day, feeling a little shaken and more than a little confused about what he should do. 

So, he does nothing. He doesn’t go into the studio for the rest of the week, doesn’t call Jin, doesn’t leave the apartment except to walk Holly. He spends four days sort of frozen—reminiscing, thinking, trying to figure out the right next move. After four days of thinking and delivery chicken and self-admitted sulking, he pulls out the box. 

It’s a pretty morning in Seoul—the sun is soft in the deceptive way, where you could be tricked into thinking you can go outside without a jacket, but it’s hiding a bitter chill. Yoongi likes these mornings, not the cold, but the apricity—likes the way the pale, dissipated light filters through his living room. Likes the way the air smells when he cracks a window open, reminds him of stolen mornings with Namjoon at Naksan. Which reminds him of the box. 

It’s tucked in his guest room, hidden deep deep deep in the back of the closet under old equipment. It’s not big—it’s a shame or a wonder that you can fit ten years of memories into a 40x40x10 centimeter box, he can’t decide which. He hasn’t opened the box since he filled it, but he knows what’s inside. Everything that he needs to be reminded of Namjoon, including one particular picture he’s looking for. It’s halfway down in the stack of photographs and tickets and memories. Probably from 2014. In fact, he knows it’s from 2014 because Namjoon has that ridiculous hair, the swept back blond with the undercut that’s darker than dark. He’s standing on Naksan Beach, with the ocean on one side of him and the mountains of Seoraksan Park on the other and he looks like the love of Yoongi’s life.

Even then, back when they were young and scared and stupid, he looked radiant. Namjoon has always had this quality about him that Yoongi can’t resist—it’s magnetism, magic of some kind. Even when they fought and scrambled to survive and things were shit, there was no one Yoongi would rather have done that with than Namjoon. And that day, on the beach, before the real fame and the complication and the endless travel, he seemed perfect. Yoongi still remembers it—early summer, sneaking out of the dorms early in the morning without sleep, clambering into his shitty car, driving all the way to Seoraksan before Namjoon begged him to keep going to the beach, said he just needed to remember he was small, that he didn’t matter in the big big scope of the world, that everything would be okay. 

The sun rose on them as they pulled up, and Namjoon took his shoes off and ran to the sand as soon as the car was in park. Despite the sun, it was wickedly cold, but Namjoon didn’t even seem to notice. Head back, tan skin glowing, stupid haircut and all, and Yoongi’s only (terrifying) thought as he watched from the hood of the car was, “I’m so in love with him.” 

In his hand, the picture still feels like love. Feels like the day Yoongi handed his heart to a young blond boy from Ilsan in a quiet transaction. Namjoon smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes, his dimples are crater deep, and his palms are out wide—looks like he’s just trying to absorb all that sun and steal it, let it become him. Sometimes, back then, Yoongi was sure he’d figured out how, too. 

Certainly, at the very least, he stole something important from Yoongi that day. 

Nothing happened then, not between them, but it was a big day. The biggest. He took all those big feelings and shoved them into his chest and did what he thought was the right thing for the group, for him, especially for Namjoon. He didn’t know until later that Namjoon felt the same way, didn’t figure it out until they were in a hotel room in Osaka three years later, high off their world tour and finally alone for the first time in months. Yoongi lamented all the time they’d wasted not talking about how they felt, and Namjoon said that no moment with Yoongi could ever be a waste. And again, Yoongi’s thought was, “I’m so in love with you.” But that time, he said it out loud, and Namjoon said it back. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a tear lands on the picture, right on Namjoon’s face, like the clouds opened up and dropped a bit of salty rain right there, Namjoon with his face titled, ready to receive it. It’s still precious, he wants to keep it, thinks he’ll save that picture until he dies, probably. It gets carefully wiped off on his soft hoodie and put back in the box, but this time, he puts it right on top. 

And when he puts the lid back on the box, it doesn’t feel at all as final as it had nine hundred days ago. 

***

On the weekend, he still has plans with Hiah, so he drags himself out of the house for the first time and meets her at a hole in the wall restaurant near Ehwa. It takes her all of five minutes to realize something’s up with Yoongi. 

“You can tell me,” she says after one of the women working there takes their order. 

“Tell you what?”

“You’re not subtle.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” Hiah takes his hand in hers on top of the small table. “Would talking help?”

“I’m not sure,” he says honestly. “I saw my ex this week.” 

“Namjoon,” she replies softly. It’s not a question. 

Yoongi nods. “Yeah… How’d you know?”

“Iseul told me. She thought I should know what I was getting into. A little more complicated between you two than a typical relationship, maybe.” 

He just hums in agreement. It’s true, and it’s a wild understatement. 

“How long has it been?” she asks. 

“Since we disbanded… So, about a month before it was announced if you were keeping up with it back then.” 

“I wasn’t,” Hiah says, “but it was hard to miss even for people like me who weren’t big fans.” 

Yoongi brings a hand to his heart in faux insult. “You weren’t a fan?”

This, at least, makes Hiah laugh. “Not really. But I wasn’t not one, either. If that means anything. And I’m a fan of you, now.” 

It makes his cheeks flush—Hiah is sweet. He’s a fan of hers, too. It should make him feel good that they have this mutual attraction, but instead he just feels kind of sick. He should be thinking about her, and instead he’s thinking about the box, about the pictures in it, and the boy in the pictures. About how the boy in the pictures became the man who stood in front of him at his studio the week before: beautiful, contrite, and small in a way Yoongi had never really seen before. 

So, when their food is in front of them and they’re settled in, instead of telling Hiah he feels the same way about her in return, he says, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

Across from him, her expression doesn’t change. She takes a big piece of pork off the grill and wraps it in lettuce, chews it carefully and rolls her eyes back with pleasure just like Seokjin would. It’s funny, or would be anyway, but neither of them are laughing. 

“You’re not over him,” she says once she’s finished eating. 

“I don’t know if I am or not. That hasn’t changed. But I know that before, I really, really wanted to be.” 

Hiah gives him a smile he doesn’t deserve, understanding and more kind than his behavior warrants. “And now?”

“Now I’m not sure.” Yoongi takes a shot of soju and pours more for each of them. “I’m still hurt. But… I don’t know. I think he might be, too. And maybe I owe it to myself to find out why. Maybe I don’t and I’ll just get hurt more but…”

He trails off, but she picks it up for him. “But you were together for a long time and you need to know why it ended.”

“I think so. And I don’t feel right about this while that’s still hanging out there unfinished.” 

Hiah doesn’t placate him with a nod of agreement or a murmured “that’s okay”. It’s fine really, he doesn’t deserve her grace, he thinks. He certainly isn’t giving much to himself, and isn't proud of himself at this moment. He picks at the potato salad and tries to will himself out of this situation. It doesn’t work, of course. He’s always been an honest person. He knows he’s not ready, knows he’s probably going to hurt her or at least not be available emotionally if Namjoon is back in his life. Not at first anyway. 

“I think I get it,” she finally says. 

“I can’t do both things at once,” he adds. “Not well, anyway. Can’t get closure with him and give you what you need at the same time… It’s not fair, but I think I need this.” 

“As long as it’s for you and not for him,” Hiah says, with authority in her tone. It sounds like the advice of someone who has done this before. Someone who has been in his shoes. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that—doesn’t know if in the time that he’s been apart from Namjoon if he’s figured out what separates what’s for him and what’s for Namjoon. It used to always be interconnected, and he’d like to think it’s not that way anymore, but there’s a part of him that he thinks might never get over wanting to see Namjoon happy and secure. The same part of him that couldn’t tell Namjoon off the other day in the studio, the same part that still thinks of that day at Naksan as one of the best days of his life because Namjoon was happy, because he was giving Namjoon what he needed and that was enough. That’s always been enough; at least for Yoongi. 

But Hiah doesn’t need to know all that. So, Yoongi nods his agreement and makes a non-committal murmur over his bottle of beer. Tries his best to make it through dinner without feeling like he’s making another Namjoon-induced mistake, the kind he thought he was done making a long time ago. 

After a semi-awkward dinner, he turns down Hiah’s offer for coffee. She doesn’t owe him any kindness and he just wants to be alone with his thoughts again. They agree to stay friends, but it feels hollow, the kind of promise only made because both parties know the other won’t deliver. He might see her around, definitely wants to stay friendly, but can’t picture a future where Hiah pursues a friendship with him after he dumped her. He wouldn’t if he were in her shoes. He didn’t with Namjoon. 

It makes him want to scream, the way his traitorous brain relates everything back to Namjoon, every thought just seconds away from being connected to his past somehow. It feels like years of progress are reduced to nothing. He walks through the crisp night air and thinks he should go back to his therapist soon, thinks he’s probably actually going insane this time. 

The next day, he ignores his messages from Jin and Iseul, both asking why he’s broken up with Hiah, both not scolding but coming close enough that he doesn’t want to hear it. Both worried, he knows, Hiah’s probably told them that Namjoon had something to do with it and he’s sure Jin has thoughts about that. Honestly, though, he’s got no idea what they might be, because he and Jin have never talked about what happened with Namjoon—not out of the context of what happened with BTS, anyway. It’s actually one of the things Yoongi appreciates most about his hyung. One time, right when it happened, when it became abundantly clear to everyone that Yoongi and Namjoon were no longer sharing a car at the end of the work day, when Namjoon kept later than usual hours at the studio despite claiming he needed a break, when Jin caught Yoongi crying on the floor of one of the practice rooms at two in the morning… Then and only then did Jin ask. “Things are over, right?” 

Back then, Yoongi nodded through his tears and let his head slump onto Jin’s stupid shoulder when he took a seat on the floor beside him. 

Jin stayed quiet and just let Yoongi cry there until he didn’t have any more tears. And then finally, after a long stretch of silence, he poked Yoongi in the side and said, “Well, everything goes.” 

Yoongi looked up, ready to lose his shit completely, only to see Jin stifling a laugh. Sent Yoongi into laughter, too, and soon the two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles in the quiet city morning, laughing because one didn’t know what to say and laughing because the only alternative for the other was to cry again. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Yoongi said when they were done with hysterics and gathering all their stuff to leave. 

“We can talk if you want,” Jin replied. 

But they never did. So, Yoongi really doesn’t know what Jin ever made of the whole situation, doesn’t know if Namjoon and Jin ever talked about it, either. All this time, he’s made the assumption that Namjoon talked to someone about it, Hoseok probably, maybe Jimin, too. But he doesn’t really know. Doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to ask. 

His phone is a graveyard of missed calls, missed texts, and email waiting for responses, but he ignores it all in favor of sending one message in a long-dormant kakao chat. He shouldn’t send it, he knows better, he’s pretty confident this is going to end up in more therapy and more tears, and probably a lot of whisky consumption, but he can’t tell his heart to shut up. It’s always been as loud or louder than his brain. An advantage usually, but sometimes he’s his own worst enemy. 

It’s just a few words, but he can’t help but remember that’s more than Namjoon used to break his heart. 

We can start work on your album tomorrow at noon.

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response—Namjoon will show up or he won’t, and Yoongi decided a long time ago that he deserved better than to wait around for someone who couldn’t make up their mind about him. The circumstances are different, but the principle is the same. He plugs his phone in and leaves it while he takes Holly for a walk. He hopes the fresh air will clear his mind, but knows it probably won’t.

***

There’s something like a loud crash against his studio door exactly at noon. If Namjoon is the same as he always was, he’s probably been standing out in the hallway worrying about how loud to knock or if he should knock at 11:59 or if 12:01 would be more polite.

“Come in,” he says, spinning around in his chair. 

There’s a soft thud and a groan. “Can’t.”

So, Yoongi gets up and opens the door for Namjoon, tries to push down the intrusive, cheesy thought that it’s a metaphor for something bigger. 

“Hi,” Namjoon says quietly. His hands are full, coffee in each one and a bag of takeout hanging from one of his wrists. He’s bundled up, mask still on, a fluff of dyed brown hair poking out from under his hoodie. 

“Hey.”

“I brought food. You haven’t eaten?”

“Not yet,” Yoongi admits. He doesn’t like that he’s still this kind of predictable to Namjoon, but he doesn’t want to lie either, and if Namjoon owes him a lot for what they went through, rice and kimchi is a good down payment. “Sit, and we can eat and go over some ideas for the album.” 

Namjoon lights up—Yoongi can see it even under his mask. “Sounds good,” he says, more calmly than he looks. 

They accomplish the first step; Namjoon sits on the small couch and his eyes dart around, probably trying to take in what’s changed since he was last in the room. Yoongi sits in his work chair across the coffee table and unpacks the food. It’s awkward. Awkward enough that they don’t quite make it to the second step: talking. Yoongi feels queasy, Namjoon looks like he is, and so they shove food in their mouths and avoid eye contact and the silence is simultaneously safe-feeling and painfully uncomfortable. 

Until Namjoon breaks it. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, hyung?”

Yoongi’s usually careful with his responses to questions like that, and takes time to choose his words. But he doesn’t have to this time. “No.” 

“Why are you, then?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Curiosity, maybe?” It’s not quite the right word, but he can’t think of a succinct way to say that he needs to know why Namjoon stopped loving him, why he wasn’t good enough to stick around for. 

“Hmm…” Namjoon just murmurs, nothing coherent in response. It’s so terribly awkward, and Yoongi hates that they’re in this situation. He’s frustrated with himself for not being mad or angry, he’s frustrated with Namjoon for everything… But more than that, he wishes they could just be normal with each other. Just for a few hours. Just pretend like nothing ever happened and go back to 2014 when things were simple. He wishes they were at Naksan. 

“Do you remember the day we drove all the way to Naksan for the sunrise?” he blurts out. He regrets it immediately when he sees Namjoon freeze, chopsticks in midair, eyes wide. 

Then Namjoon nods, a cautious smile making it onto his face. “I do. That was a good day,” he says fondly. And then more quietly, he says, “That was the day I think I knew I loved you.”

And Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that. Almost doesn’t believe it. It’s his turn to let his eyes go wider. “What?”

“Sure,” and Namjoon’s blushing now, bashful in a way that makes Yoongi’s heart feel like an instrument. “I remember thinking I was so lucky to have you in my life. So lucky that you would go out of your way to do something like that for me for no real reason other than that I wanted it.” He finally makes eye contact with Yoongi. “I remember thinking that it had to be what loving someone was; making sure they were happy. Putting them first. I felt so loved by you that day.” 

Yoongi swallows. They’d never talked about it, not once. Never had that, “when did you know?” conversation that he thinks most young couples probably have. 

“I would have done anything for you,” Yoongi replies. “That’s the day I realized that. That’s the day I knew I was in love with you, that I would choose you over me.” 

Namjoon’s face falls a little. He’s not frowning, but it’s the look he gets when he’s really considering something, when he’s trying to put the pieces of some puzzle together. “Is that why you’re doing this?” he asks. “I don’t want you to do this if it’s like that. I don’t want you to choose me over you, hyung.” 

He sounds a little desperate, a lot concerned. It’s not what Yoongi expected from him. Really, he’s not sure what he expected. Album talk, glossing over the past, asking about polite things like their military service, how their families are, what trouble their dogs are getting into… It wasn’t this. 

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi answers. 

“Good. If you’re sure.” 

Yoongi nods, still a little shaken up from their conversation, ready not to talk about it more. Which is ironic, because the whole reason he’s agreed to this is to get answers and now that he has Namjoon here, seemingly willing to give them, he can’t even bring himself to ask the questions.

“Let’s get to work, then.”

They do, and it’s still weird, and the air feels thick and sticky and uncomfortable between them, but the music helps. Yoongi outlines his ideas for each track, Namjoon scribbles in his notebook and hums along, chewing on the end of his pen in between writing notes. They don’t get to the lyrics yet, just Yoongi’s initial impressions and thoughts, and Namjoon promises to review everything and make some adjustments and let Yoongi make some of his own. It starts to feel a little more natural, working on music together, and Yoongi almost lets himself feel good about it, in his element. 

“I think what I really need to know is what you want to accomplish, you know?” he asks Namjoon as they start to wrap up for the evening. “What’s the message overall? And then, from there, we can get working on the individual tracks.” 

Namjoon stares at him for a beat too long, pen pinched between his lips. He drags it out slowly and taps the other end on his notebook—one of the same nervous habits he’s had since Yoongi can remember. 

“It’s a love letter, kind of,” he says. “Maybe more like an apology. I’m not entirely sure yet.” 

Yoongi tries not to throw up or yell or just storm out of his own studio. A love letter. Kim Namjoon dragged him into producing some sort of love letter to someone after everything they’ve been through, after all this time. It’s fucking unbelieveable. His head feels like it’s spinning around in his skull and his heart isn’t cooperating much better. But, much to his surprise, he keeps his voice steady and calm when he replies, thinks he schools his expression into something stoic. “And you think I’m the right person to help you with this?”

“You’re the only one, hyung.” 

And as much as Yoongi wants to tell him to fuck right off, something on Namjoon’s face doesn’t let him do that. He looks sad, hopeful, serious… Yoongi knows that for whatever reason, Namjoon means what he’s saying. And he may not like it, and it may drag up some shit that Yoongi’s been eager to keep to himself, but he may also get what he needs from this. If Namjoon’s so bent up over someone that he needs Yoongi to help him write an album of love letters to them, then he’s definitely moved on. And maybe he can help Yoongi move on, too. It’s dumb, but Yoongi’s always been a little dumb about Namjoon. 

“Okay.” He stands, walking toward the door to let Namjoon out. “Same time next week?” 

Namjoon’s voice is low and soft when he replies, a careful smile on his lips as he meets Yoongi at the door. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.” 

Yoongi wishes he could believe that. 

***

Whether it’s for better or worse, Namjoon was right. Yoongi doesn’t regret working with him on the album. There are times, of course, when things are tense, when the awkwardness between them seems to fill the room and threaten to suffocate him. But then one of them, somehow, lets the air out, and they move forward. 

And they work so well together—Yoongi wishes he could say he’d forgotten about that, but of course he hadn’t. He and Namjoon had always managed to sink into a familiar rhythm together when they were making music, and working on Namjoon’s album was proving no different. When they were caught up in a track, it was easy to forget that Yoongi was supposed to be hurt, that Namjoon had chosen to walk away, easy to forget that Yoongi still didn’t truly know why Namjoon was back. 

“Hyung!” The voice outside the door is unmistakable, and Namjoon and Yoongi both respond to it. 

“Come in,” they say in tandem before Namjoon seems to realize it’s not his studio to invite anyone into, and Yoongi realizes that maybe Namjoon’s been in closer contact with the other members than he’d known. 

Jungkook swings the door open, two coffees in hand, and freezes just inside the doorframe when he spots Namjoon sitting on the floor across from Yoongi with his lyrics notebook spread open on his lap. 

“Hyungs?”

“Hi, Jungkookie,” Namjoon says fondly. “How’ve you been?”

“Good… I’ve been good. Busy. I, uh… I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He tilts his chin to the drink carrier he’s holding. “I would’ve brought you one, too.” 

Namjoon just gives him a fond smile and lifts up the iced coffee he’s been nursing since dinner. “I’m okay, thank you.” 

Jungkook seems nervous, eyes darting between Namjoon and Yoongi, not knowing what to say or where to sit.

“Well, can I have the coffee, or what?” Yoongi teases.

It at least seems to shake Jungkook out of his shock. “Right! Yes, here you go.” After he hands the drink to Yoongi, he adds, “What are you two doing?” 

“Ah, working on Namjoon’s album.” 

This seems to be even more surprising to Jungkook than finding Namjoon in Yoongi’s studio. His eyes go a little wide and he turns to Namjoon, whispering, “You played it for him?” 

Namjoon’s cheeks flush and he scribbles in his notebook, pointedly not making eye contact with either of them. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “He’s helping me with the production.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook seems like he’s considering the idea pretty seriously. “And how’s that going?” He’s cautious sounding; like he’s trying to ask something else but can’t find (or doesn’t want to find) the right words. 

“Pretty good, I think,” Namjoon spits out quickly. “You know how it is with Yoongi and me.” 

“Boy, do I,” Jungkook says under his breath, probably not realizing he’s louder than he thinks he is. 

Yoongi feels a little lost, like they’re having a whole conversation that he’s not hearing, and he doesn’t know why Namjoon looks like he just got caught out doing something he shouldn’t. It makes him feel strange, like an outsider in his own studio with the idea that there’s something else going on. So, he interrupts them. “You’ve heard the songs, too?” he asks, head tilted up at Jungkook. 

“Oh, I… Yeah. Hyung played them for me a few months ago when he was trying to figure out what to do with them.” He pauses for a second, taking a drink of his coffee, and then finishes. “They’re pretty personal… I think the album will turn out well.” 

“Me too,” Yoongi agrees, and to his side, he practically hears Namjoon shrink under the praise, embarrassed probably, to be spoken about like he’s not in the room. 

“Well,” Jungkook says with a shrug, “I should go. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.” His smile brightens. “Or, maybe you already have if you’ve heard the so—” 

“Bye, Jungkook!” Namjoon practically shouts, too loud for the room. 

Yoongi definitely does not know what’s going on with these two, and he’s not sure he wants to. By the time they all agree to get together for dinner in the next couple weeks, and Jungkook is shuffled out of the studio with lots of confusing murmurs to Namjoon as he leaves about being proud of him, Yoongi feels lost—he’s missed something, but he’s not quite sure what. He’s replaying the last five minutes over and over in his head before Jungkook’s even to the elevator bank. 

“Still a strange kid,” he says as he sinks back into his chair. 

Namjoon never really responds, just nods into his notebook and hums noncommittally. 

***

Things, as they’re prone to do, finally come to a head a few weeks later. They’re in the studio, Namjoon recording a verse that hasn’t been sitting quite right with either of them. The more Yoongi hears it, though, the more he thinks it’s the lyrics that he’s taking issue with, not the delivery. 

He spits out a line about nights being as long as eternity, another about getting out his words and then feeling empty inside, and all Yoongi can think of is how much those lyrics feel like all the sad and lonely lines he’s been writing since Namjoon left. It makes something pull at his chest, makes a lump in his throat start to swell for some reason he can’t quite identify. If Namjoon keeps going, Yoongi might assuredly do something stupid, might cry in front of his ex or try and pull him into a moment too intimate for what they are to each other now. 

“Joon, can we take a break for a second? I want to talk about these lyrics.” 

“Sure, yeah.” Namjoon pulls his headphones off and sits on the couch with a bottle of water. “What’re you thinking?” 

He should have thought about this more, because now that he needs to say it, there’s no way to make it sound professional. Probably also no way to get Namjoon to drop it and put his headphones back on, so he’s a bit stuck. 

“Maybe I’m missing something,” he says, trying to be as careful as possible, “but this seems so sad for a love song. They all do, really. And I… Well, I just want to make sure it’s saying what you want it to say to whoever you want to say it to. If I’m being honest, right now it sounds like you just feel sorry for yourself and that’s… That’s okay if that’s what you want to say, but if I put myself in the shoes of whoever it is you’re dating, this might make me think you’re still thinking about someone else.” He takes a long pause and watches Namjoon carefully for any sort of reaction. There isn’t much of one, just a crease in his brow that only appears when he’s thinking about how to say something he’s thinking. Yoongi knows that look, it’s familiar in the same way as the lyrics they’re talking about now—it’s Namjoon’s alone, but Yoongi knows it in his soul because nothing used to belong to only one of them.

Then Namjoon speaks, and it’s so quiet, Yoongi barely hears him. “Not dating anyone… haven’t for a long time.” 

“Oh…” It takes Yoongi by surprise, because this whole time he’d been under the impression that Namjoon wrote this album for someone. Why write a love letter when you haven’t got anyone to write it to? 

“I am, for what it’s worth.” 

“You are what, Joon?”

Namjoon slides his fingers through his fringe and blows out a long breath, puffing his cheeks out. “Thinking about someone.” 

The twist of feelings in Yoongi’s chest is rough. Confusion, a little hope, a little anger, because if Namjoon doesn’t mean him, it would hurt too much to know there was someone after him that meant more. If Namjoon does mean him… That’s almost worse. He tries to be measured in his response. “Well, I think we all do that sometimes.” 

“Yeah… Maybe we do,” Namjoon agrees. Then more tentatively, he asks, “Do you?” 

“Do I still think about people I used to be with? Of course I do.”

“Do you still think about me?”

And there it is, the question he’s been simultaneously hoping to get and hoping to avoid. He’s thought a million times about what he would say if they ever actually spoke about this, about them. Now that they finally are, though, he feels dumbstruck. 

What he thinks is, every goddamn day. What he says is, “Yes, sometimes. You and I were…”

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “We really were.” His voice just sounds like nostalgia, and Yoongi recognizes it in the way he’s been delivering these lyrics, choruses and verses bound with sadness and hope, a plea for absolution and to be loved. 

It’s a startling realization when he has it, but at the same time, he wonders if he should have seen this coming all along. Little pieces of information start to snap together in his head—Namjoon asking for him specifically to work on this, and on every song, which is unusual in their business… Jungkook being so strange, Namjoon himself being cagey about who the album was for, about why he was inspired to write these kinds of songs, too wistful even for him. 

“Who’d you write this for, Namjoon?” He’s firm in asking, not wanting to show how vulnerable he’s feeling, even though he’s asking for that vulnerability from Namjoon. 

“Hyung, I…”

“Just tell me, please.” 

Namjoon looks like he wants to sink into a hole, and Yoongi has no idea what Namjoon thought would happen, if he thought they could make this whole album and never have this conversation, or if he just thought he’d be able to control the timing and environment when they did. That would be classic Namjoon, thinking he has to plan out even his feelings so that they don’t pop up and inconvenience him. 

It’s soft when he says it, a whisper almost. “You. Of course it’s for you.” 

And Yoongi knew that, but having it confirmed sends him reeling. So he asks another question he’s not sure he wants the answer to. 

“Why?”

On the couch, curled in on himself and looking uncharacteristically scared, Namjoon stays quiet for a while. Feels like Yoongi might sit here until his bones brittle before he gets an answer. Feels like that might be okay, like he’s probably not ready for whatever Namjoon is going to say anyway. 

“Because you deserve an apology. You deserve to know that not one single day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you, about us… About how things ended when… when I didn’t even want them to. I have tried, hyung. I’ve tried to move on. And I can’t, you know? Feels like I lost everything and all this time I’ve been running trying to get it back, trying to fill some space in my heart that feels like a chasm and I… I just can’t do it. No matter what. It always comes back to you, and how we were—How good we were. I just…”

“You’re just selfish,” Yoongi interrupts.

Namjoon is crying now, glassy eyes filling and slowly spilling trickles down his cheeks. Was crying before he got called selfish, but now he’s crying and he looks like Yoongi just slapped him, surprise written across his face like a stain. 

“What?”

“Selfish. You heard me. You say I deserve an apology, and I do, but not like this. Not with some grand gesture bullshit. A whole fucking album, Namjoon? You could have called. Did you even think about me when you did this, really? Or did you think about needing to feel less guilty?”

“I tried at first… I called, left you messages you never returned… and then… I don’t know,” Namjoon says. He looks like the leaking tears might turn into something harsher at any moment. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

Yoongi’s not sure why he says the next thing he does. Wants Namjoon to hurt a little, maybe. Doesn’t care anymore if Namjoon knows how much Yoongi’s still affected by him. “You know I was seeing someone when you came around?” 

“No… I didn’t know.”

“She was great, you know? Smart, funny, beautiful. She was good for me, too. And then you showed up, and just the faintest idea of you being back in my life… It made it impossible to keep seeing her. It wasn’t fair to her, to be trying to build something with her when I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you were going to be around… I couldn’t give my attention to her the way she deserved. After all this time…” 

It’s cruel, the way Yoongi saying he broke things off with Hiah puts this look on Namjoon’s face… One that’s part empathy and part anticipation. Cruel that he would give Yoongi the idea that they could be something again, cruel that he thinks that’s possible after what happened, after so much time has passed. Does he think so little of Yoongi that he thinks they can go back? Pretend like nothing happened? 

“You should go, Namjoon.” 

“Hyung…” It’s desperate when he says it, like he’ll take any crumb Yoongi will give. 

And equally as desperate, Yoongi replies, “Please, Joon. Just go.” He can’t let Namjoon see him cry, and it’s going to happen soon. He doesn’t even want to have these feelings, but especially not in front of Namjoon. Not when he doesn’t know yet exactly what they are or what they mean. 

Mercifully, Namjoon gets up to leave, packing his headphones and his notebook quickly, mumbling unwelcome apologies under his breath. Yoongi’s not sure he even knows what he’s apologizing for, still doesn’t think Namjoon really understands what happened between them or why it hurt so much. Certainly, Yoongi doesn’t begin to fathom why Namjoon seems like he was as damaged as Yoongi by the whole thing. Can’t understand what Namjoon said, that he didn’t want things to end with them. Because that day, he’d said plain as day, sitting them all at the big table in their old dorm, “I need a break from this.” 

Everyone knew what that meant—a break from BTS, from the pressure and the lack of privacy and the heavy weight of expectation. And Yoongi knew, too, that their relationship went hand in hand with that. More pressure, more secrets… Hiding is work, it’s exhausting, it looms over every moment, and once you get over the excitement of something illicit, the constant fear isn’t fun anymore. So, Yoongi gave Namjoon what he wanted: a break. No matter how painful it was, no matter how unloved it made him feel, no matter how much he wanted to call, text, touch… anything. 

As he leaves the studio, he turns to Yoongi one last time, tears still welling up but a little angry now, and says, “I wanted a break from the group, but you’re the one who took a break from us.” 

This time, it’s Yoongi who feels like he’s received a verbal slap in the face.

All that night and the next day, it’s the only thing Yoongi can think about. How can they possibly see things so differently? How can their perceptions be so starkly opposed? 

“Can we talk?” He says vaguely into the phone. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know,” he admits, voice breaking. “I’m not sure.”

Jin is at his apartment within the hour. It’s good, he knows, to have a friendship like this. Even when they’re both busy and on separate paths, that they’re still there for each other when it matters, that they carve out time to maintain their friendship of over a decade. There’s something so comforting about knowing someone cares for you as much as you care for them. There’s a quiet confidence in his relationship with Jin that’s hard to achieve with most people. 

“What’s going on with you?” Jin asks, fussing in the kitchen for whiskey and water and probably trying to find something to feed Yoongi, too. 

“Do you remember,” he starts, “that day when Namjoonie sat us all down and said he needed a break?”

Jin snorts out a laugh. “Of course I do. Our lives sort of changed that day.” 

He knows Jin isn’t laughing because it’s funny, more because it’s ridiculous to think any of them wouldn’t have the memory of that day imprinted on them… “What do you think he meant?”

The look he gets in return is part thoughtful, part surprised. “I think he meant he wanted a break, Yoongi. Not much gray area there.” 

“A break from what?”

He hums in consideration before he answers, “The pressure mostly, I think. We all needed it, all wanted it. He was just the first one to say it. It was a lot. To write songs we didn’t love, and for him to be the spokesperson, to not have time for his own creativity to bloom anymore.” 

“And?”

“And nothing, Yoongi. Sometimes people say what they mean. Namjoon usually says what he means.” 

“So… Did you think… Didn’t you think he wanted a break from me, too?”

Jin stares at him like he’s just said the most outlandish thing. “No. No, I never thought that. Did he tell you that?”

“Not exactly…”

“Oh, Yoongi…” The look of pity on Jin’s face is enough to make Yoongi want to vacate the planet, but instead, he just turns his eyes to the carpet and listens. “I think you and Namjoon should talk.” 

“Maybe,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I don’t think I have to tell you how ridiculous it is that the two of you might have given up years of being happy over something so…”

“Stupid?” 

Jin gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, sorry to have to say it.” 

“Did you know? This whole time, did you know?”

There’s a long pause before Jin speaks again, and it’s fine. Yoongi knows it's a question that puts his friend in the middle—maybe makes him choose between honesty and loyalty. And aren’t those sort of the same thing anyway? 

“No. Not really. We never talked about it, you and me. And Joon is so…” Jin waves a hand around for emphasis. 

It’s clear what he means though. Some combination of smart, closed-off, quick to surrender. “He is, yeah…”

“He told me you weren’t taking his calls at first. Then when he enlisted… he told me he only regretted that you and he hadn’t found a way to talk through things. But he didn’t tell me what happened, not really. I assumed he said something without thinking, hurt your feelings, assumed you broke things off properly… But Yoongi, if you just… stopped speaking to him…”

It’s a little clearer now, in Yoongi’s head, what happened versus what he’s been telling himself. Namjoon got the group together, said he needed time to focus on himself, and Yoongi took that to the extreme, assumed the worst, let his biggest insecurities get the best of him. Maybe Namjoon did just mean a break from BTS. Maybe he didn’t mean a break from Yoongi. He had called a lot those first few days—left voicemails saying he knew he should have talked to Yoongi first, shouldn’t have blindsided him in a team meeting like that. Said he loved Yoongi and he was sorry. It’s so easy to see how what Yoongi thought he meant could have been wrong; how it could have just been taking things one step further than Namjoon was trying to take them. 

“Fuck.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I should talk to him.” 

“Couldn’t make things worse.” 

***

It’s been one thousand days since Namjoon broke his heart, and the thought and those words weigh heavy on his heart and feel thick on his tongue. One thousand. It’s ten one hundred days. It's been almost three years. It’s all the time that he’s been running in place trying to get his life back but always feeling a little off kilter. Jin was right—Yoongi needs to talk to Namjoon, needs to confirm his worst fears, that he made this happen, that he shut Namjoon out preemptively, before Namjoon could do it to him. That, contrary to what he’s been telling himself, it’s been one thousand days since he broke his own heart. 

Maybe the line between self-preservation and self-destruction is thinner than he’d ever thought. 

It’s difficult though, hard to swallow his pride and his nerves and pick up the phone. 

So, he doesn’t. He packs a bag and sends an email to work that he’ll be out for a few days and messages Jin to let him know he’ll be gone, too. When Jin asks him where, he just says he needs to go back to where things started. It’s vague enough that he knows Jin won’t track him down, probably thinks he means Nonhyeon-dong or Daegu. He wouldn’t know about Naksan. 

The drive is longer than he remembers, quieter without Namjoon beside him rambling about Murakami or Skinner or some other author that most people would have choked through in college but Namjoon read by choice. 

For the first time in a long time, he lets himself reminisce without trying to shut it down. He thinks about those drives: Namjoon reading out loud to him, Namjoon snoring in time with the rain beating down on Yoongi’s hood. Later, Namjoon sliding his fingers across Yoongi’s thigh and squeezing softly, his head thrown back and eyes scrunched closed with his smile in the passenger’s seat. Thinks about the first trip when he knew he loved Namjoon, thinks about the last one where they walked along the beach, Namjoon shirtless and glowing in the sun until Yoongi couldn’t stand not having him alone and dragged him back to their cottage. 

He’d love to say it wasn’t intentional, booking that same hanok again—the quiet, cozy cottage tucked in closer to the forest than the ocean—but of course it was. Really, he just didn’t know where else to go, and well… if he’s planning to think (wallow) he might as well do it right. 

When he pulls the car into the driveway, the cottage looks like it’s been stamped directly from his memory onto the landscape. It’s so funny how whenever it seems like everything in Yoongi’s life has changed, he somehow stumbles on the little things that remain the same. 

Walking through the hanok, he sees vignettes of his past playing out on the low walls, across the countertops, and all over the sofa and beds. 

Namjoon, sheepish, bringing a tray to the bed with something that vaguely resembles breakfast on it. Laughing when Yoongi runs a hand through his hair and tells him it’s the thought that counts. 

Later, Namjoon’s fucked out moans when Yoongi shows him exactly what he’d had in mind for breakfast instead, his tongue moving in languid circles around Namjoon’s rim, fingers pulling his cheeks apart to slip deeper and deeper. 

Sand covering the floor of the foyer as Namjoon panics because he didn’t realize he’d brought his new crab friend all the way back to the cottage. Yoongi in tears from laughter, Namjoon mortified at his potential animal abuse before making his way back to the beach to right his wrong.

The two of them, backs against the sofa and legs tangled at the ankles in front of them, arguing about the form of a song that would never even make it to an album. “Why don’t you just listen to hyung?” Yoongi says. 

Namjoon’s muttered response as he pouts because he knows he’s wrong but he’s argued too long to admit it now—always so stubborn. “Because it sounds better my way.”

Yoongi shutting him up with a soft kiss that doesn’t stay soft for long.

He stands in that living room today, swearing he can see the two of them still on the floor: argument forgotten, song abandoned, panting into each other’s mouths and slick with sweat as they came to an understanding in their own way. 

In the kitchen, he sees a golden-skinned Namjoon, perched on a barstool saying, “I love you so much I think I could drown in it,” as he watches Yoongi make him a sandwich. “Love you so big I can’t breathe around it sometimes,” he adds as an explanation as he twists his t-shirt around in his fist right above his ribcage. Sucks the air right out of Yoongi’s lungs, too, with the way Namjoon is looking at him. 

All that for a sandwich. 

Neither of them knew then what they know now—neither of them knew that they would drown in it, but that they’d also be the other’s fresh air, until the day the ugliest parts of their self-doubt snuffed it out like a spent cigarette.

Yoongi knows one thing: he’s barely been in that hanok for an hour and he needs to get out. 

It should be easy to distract himself that day—he walks along the beach and only thinks about Namjoon a little bit. He runs to the closest store and gets some essentials for the next few days: whiskey, pork, rice, kimchi… He grabs what he needs to make jajangmyeon, too, even if he doesn’t like it all that well anymore. It’s just that it’s Namjoon’s favorite and Yoongi used to make it for him all every time they came to the hanok—slurping cold noodles together in the yard and drinking cheap beer until they were so full they both complained they’d never be able to move again. Then somehow finding the energy to move when Namjoon looks at Yoongi through his eyelashes in his best approximation of coy and says he should probably properly thank his hyung for the meal. 

It should be easy, but it’s so very difficult to distract himself from thoughts of what used to be, he thinks woefully as he tries not to get hard in the market. 

That night, he puts on a movie and eats quietly on the couch. He doesn’t return the missed calls he has from Jin, but he decides he likely will in the morning when his thoughts start to run away from him again. For now, it’s easier to be on his own—easier to worry silently over if this whole painful three years was a terrible misunderstanding, whether or not he took away his own happiness instead of letting someone else do that for him. 

Neither is good, but one makes him feel so so so much worse. 

***

There’s low, buzzy thrumming through his head when he wakes in the morning. There’s an ache in his shoulder that matches it—dull and persistent… He should know better than to fall asleep on the sofa like this. Warm beams of sunlight make the hanok feel a little stifling—he gets up to open some windows, lets the swift, salty breeze off the sea take away some of the stuffiness in the room. 

Over coffee, he pulls his notebook out of his bag. He hasn’t touched it in ages, hasn’t thought about it much in between work and Namjoon. But it’s just as he left it, full of the words that he’s been afraid to turn into reality, too sad, too true, too much of his life on display. But knowing that things may not have (probably didn’t) actually happen the way he always told himself they did, the words take on a different temperament. 

While it sits worse with him that he might have at least partially put himself in this position, it also seems easier to let it go. Seems like he needs to, like it’s time. People always say it’s hardest to forgive yourself, but Yoongi’s had a lot of experience with that. He knows he’s bound to betray himself at times, he knows he’ll do things that are stupid or reckless or thoughtless. It’s been harder for him to forgive Namjoon because he never thought Namjoon would take him for granted, never imagined Namjoon would hurt him in a significant way. Yoongi might hurt himself as a part-time job, but Namjoon treated him like something precious—cautious and sweet, kind and compassionate. Namjoon was more graceful with Yoongi in their time together than Yoongi could ever imagine being with himself back then. Before he and Namjoon even got together, he promised himself he wouldn’t look back on his mistakes as such anymore—they’re just him. He did his best, he’ll do better in the future. 

It’s not easy to forgive yourself, but he’s practiced at it. 

So, he sits with his coffee in the sunlight and lets those words breathe the sea air with him, gives them life, makes them real, and tries his best to start giving himself the grace he knows he deserves. 

***

The day passes like that, Yoongi writing furiously, ignoring the cramps in his hands and the crick in his neck. When it’s nearly golden hour, Yoongi’s stomach rumbles and breaks his concentration for the first time. 

It occurs to him that he’s strayed from his routine for the first time in a long time, and it feels surprisingly good. His heart is splayed out on the pages in front of him, and his stomach is painfully empty, but he is more full inside than he has been in three years. It’s not over, he knows he has to talk to Namjoon, knows there’s still forgiveness he needs to extend and receive in that relationship to really find some closure, but he’s far more equipped to do that now than he was when he arrived, certainly more than when he forced Namjoon out of his studio days prior. 

When he goes back to Seoul, Namjoon’s will be the first number he dials, he promises that to himself while he grabs some fruit to stick in his pocket and leaves the hanok to spend at least a few minutes out of the house before sunset. 

Outside, he can see a storm coming over the sea. There’s still time, but the sunlight is filtered in stripes through thickening clouds. It’s hazy and low, perfect for photos, but ominous for the small number of families Yoongi sees trudging toward him, away from the beach, weaving around him as he carefully makes his way down the path toward the ocean. 

When he reaches the sand, the incoming storm has shooed enough people away that it’s nearly unoccupied. Rare for any place in Korea, but welcome. Yoongi likes being able to walk undisturbed, likes the sound of the waves giving a rhythm to his steps, likes to see if he can pattern his breath to match when they hit the shore. It makes music in its own way, and as he walks, he thinks about the songs he worked on that day, about what it might sound like to give a Pacific Ocean backbeat to some of the more hopeful of the lyrics he’s finished. 

Ahead of him, someone sits in the sand facing the sea, knees pulled up to their chest and what looks like a backpack next to them. It looks like a man, although Yoongi’s far enough away he still can’t make out any of their details, not really. The folded body looks like it’s probably long when stretched out, but it’s curled in on itself as if whoever owns those long limbs is trying to coil them inward and gather some momentum from them. 

Yoongi feels a twinge of empathy—something about their posture makes him think they’re gathering courage just like he is. He wonders what it is they have to do that they’re afraid of. Wonders if they’ve felt the freedom of finally putting words to their turbulent thoughts. 

He’s probably reading too much into a man sitting on the beach. 

He gets closer, and the person must hear him—their gaze finally breaks from the water and they turn their head in his direction. 

It’s silly—Yoongi laughs silently at himself for thinking this guy looks like Namjoon. He’s spent too many hours shut in the hanok, too much time hunched over his notebook thinking about the past. 

But then, the man stands up and plants himself in the sand, facing Yoongi, and runs a hand through his marine-air mussed brown hair. 

“I knew you’d be here,” the man says... Namjoon says. 

It’s enough to make Yoongi stop in his tracks, he tries to rationalize, tries to think of any possible reason his brain would actually hallucinate Namjoon standing on this beach talking to him in a perfect imitation of his deep voice. 

“Jin told me you were going away for a while. He said he didn’t know where, but that you told him it was ‘back where things started’. So, I figured…” Namjoon’s nervous, his words trail off into the breeze. Yoongi’s still in shock, maybe, unable to move. 

“Why are you here?” he asks softly. He can’t decide if it’s lucky or unlucky that the wind blows toward Namjoon, carrying his words along with it. They’re harsh, but his tone isn’t, it’s soft like the sand, the rocks in his heart already smoothed over more than he’d like to admit. 

Namjoon gives him a one-sided grin that’s just as soft in return. “Wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice,” he says as he takes a couple cautious steps toward Yoongi. 

“I don’t know what that means, Joon.” 

“You said I didn’t try back then. I could have tried so much harder. I should have—you were right. I should have stood in front of you and made you listen, made you hear that you were the last thing I needed space from.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that—of all the ways he pictured his next conversation with Namjoon panning out, this wasn’t one of them. The wind is picking up around them, and so is Yoongi’s heartbeat and the speed with which Namjoon’s speaking. 

“Hyung, I’m going to try this time. I’m here to try.” His dimple is gone, but the smile has been replaced with Yoongi’s favorite of Namjoon’s looks. It’s fierce determination—youthful and reckless and exactly the way he was when Yoongi started loving him (and a lot of things change, but oh, all the small things that stay the same, he thinks in a flash). 

“I wanted a break from the group, but not from you. I wanted a break from that so that I could focus on me and what I wanted, but what I wanted was you. I wanted us to have a future, I wanted us to have time. We never had time… We deserved that.” 

The storm is there now, and Yoongi can’t tell if the salt water on his cheeks is ocean spray or tears. Doesn’t think it matters either way, still doesn’t have the words to respond to Namjoon, still wishes they could have had this conversation years ago, still can’t separate the hurt from the fear from the love. 

Rain starts, the sky splitting open above them as Namjoon watches, waits for Yoongi to respond. There’s water everywhere, and everything is overflowing and Yoongi thinks he must have wasted every good syllable he ever had writing lyrics today because he doesn’t know a goddamn thing anymore except this: he fell in love with a boy on the beach once, and he’s pretty sure he never ever once stopped loving him. 

When Yoongi moves, it’s like the lightning that’s streaking across the sky above them. Namjoon’s eyes fly open when Yoongi’s arms fling around him, and he’s finally just as speechless as Yoongi when their lips meet. It’s rain-soaked and cold but Namjoon’s lips are warm and his arms around Yoongi are home and when he finally kisses Yoongi back it’s like drowning all over again. 

They stay like that until Yoongi can’t feel his fingertips and Namjoon’s shivering into each slide of Yoongi’s tongue against his. When they pull apart, Yoongi’s found a few words, so he just repeats them into Namjoon’s soaked hoodie. “I’m sorry, let’s talk… I’m so sorry…” 

And Namjoon holds his jaw carefully, thumbs wiping raindrops off Yoongi’s cheeks but losing the battle against the clouds, whispers back, “I’m sorry too, I never stopped loving you… Please, Yoongi, please…” 

Their icy fingers are threaded together as they scramble back to the hanok. Sometime as they run along the beach, Yoongi realizes he doesn’t even know how Namjoon got there, doesn’t care really, but maybe someone’s waiting for him or expecting him… 

“Joon-ah!” he calls over his shoulder, into the wind, realizing he never actually asked the question. “Do you want to come over and talk?” 

Namjoon’s smile is bright enough to break the storm, and he looks like love with his wet hair stuck on his face, water flowing down his cheekbones like waterslides to his lips. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask for so long,” he says, squeezing Yoongi’s hand in his. 

Jin’s car is in the driveway of the hanok, and it’s running, and the window opens just a crack when the pair rushes up through the yard. “You need me to stay, Namjoonie?”

“No, hyung, thank you… I don’t think so.” He turns to Yoongi, and it’s obviously a question: can I stay? Are we going to fix this? Do you want this?

Yoongi’s not sure what he expected, but Jin in his driveway after apparently driving Namjoon three hours there wasn’t it. He nods his head in agreement and mouths a “thank you” to Jin as he pulls Namjoon a little closer. The rain’s slowing, but they’re soaked and shivering and Jin has a long drive back to Seoul if that’s indeed where he’s going, so they wave and keep moving toward the house, peeling off shoes and hoodies as they enter. They see Jin flash his lights as he backs out, and Yoongi makes a mental note to buy Jin all the meat in Seoul when he gets back for what he’s done today.

They don’t really talk until they’re inside, dripping onto the foyer floor, Namjoon looking around curiously. Yoongi wonders if he’s trying to see how much has changed, wonders if he has the same film highlight reel of their greatest moments there playing across his field of vision as Yoongi did a day ago. 

“Let me get you a towel and some dry clothes,” he says. 

When Namjoon emerges from the hanok’s bathroom a few moments later, hair now half-wet and fuzzy from the towel drying, he’s wearing a pair of Yoongi’s sweatpants—comically short and not even covering his ankle bones. 

It’s a stupid thing, probably, the way that Yoongi loves his ankles. Namjoon is big, that isn’t a secret, and he’s especially large in comparison to Yoongi. But his ankles are so delicate, tendon narrow and bone sharp against his maple wood skin. For years, Yoongi’s admired them, how they keep Namjoon’s long frame so (mostly) steady—they’re a miracle of physics and a good parallel for Namjoon as a person. Larger than life and painfully delicate at the same time. 

“You’re staring,” Namjoon notes, drawing Yoongi’s attention away from his lower half. 

“Those pants look stupid on you,” is all Yoongi says in return, and he doesn’t even mean it. Namjoon can probably tell; the words are delivered with a specific fondness that he doubts has been forgotten. 

“I’d say that means I should take them off then, but maybe we should talk, instead.” 

That’s a consideration, certainly. Kissing in the sand, Yoongi hadn’t let his thoughts get that far. Should they talk? Doesn’t he want to? Yes, and eventually, but mostly he wants to get that feeling back—the one of Namjoon’s thick bottom lip on his, the one of Namjoon’s arms holding him firm and insistent against a broad chest. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, hyung. All the time and every day.” 

“I think I know that now,” Yoongi admits quietly. 

Namjoon gives him a hint of a grin in return, but it’s not an entirely happy one. “I wrote you letters,” he says. “Once a month. Never got brave enough to send them, though. Turned them into all those songs, instead.” Yoongi sits on the sofa while Namjoon speaks, and he pats the spot next to him in encouragement. 

“I never knew you were so sad, Namjoonie…” 

“No one asked,” he shrugs. “Don’t blame them… Things were hard for a while and that was mostly my fault. I know that. I guess Jungkook did once, though. That’s when I showed him all the lyrics.” Namjoon laughs, mostly to himself. “He cried for like an hour after he read them. He’s always been so soft.”

“They are pretty sad,” Yoongi agrees.

“I have another track for it. One with a little more hope. Haven’t been able to get it quite right—didn’t feel the right way inside to finish it, I think. But maybe…” He trails off, eyes lifting from where he’s been staring at the rain outside to look at Yoongi. “Maybe I could finish it now.” 

And there is so much they need to talk about, so much to resolve, to hash out, to work through. This morning, Yoongi was just thinking they might be able to salvage a friendship, and now it’s confusing and bigger and all he can focus on his Namjoon’s lips on his and how nice nice nice it felt and how safe safe safe he would be with Namjoon if he just let himself forgive—let himself forget. 

Just for a while, he thinks. 

“Just for tonight,” he says, “maybe we can not talk…” 

“Can I kiss you again?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi doesn’t answer, just scoots himself forward until he can fit Namjoon’s jaw in his hands and his thumbs on those pretty pretty cheekbones and presses his lips careful careful quiet (but not nervous) to Namjoon’s. 

They both hum into the kiss, Namjoon’s deep like a moan and Yoongi’s with the higher pitch of relief and release. Letting go of all the nerves and the fear and breaking everything down to the basest of parts: lips and tongue and teeth and hearts and he swears he can feel Namjoon’s beating steady like the waves and right in time with Yoongi’s. 

They’ve always had the same rhythm. 

It’s like that for a while—time feels fake because Yoongi thinks they must have been kissing for years, they must have never been apart. It gets messier and deeper and more intense as they kiss, and somehow he ends up in Namjoon’s lap with his fingers twisted in damp hair, pulling Namjoon as close as he can. Namjoon’s long fingers are teasing along his back, light touches under Yoongi’s shirt, moving across the back of his hip bones in a way that’s driving him wild, pricking up goosebumps on the thin skin there and daring to skim his waistband every now and then. It’s a question unspoken and one that they both already know the answer to. 

“Take me to the bedroom,” he breathes against Namjoon’s lips. It’s not a request, not really. 

Namjoon nods furiously, out of breath and flushed as he lifts them both from the couch at the same time in a display of strength that makes Yoongi’s insides tumble and twist. 

They kiss their way down the hall, and Namjoon’s still clumsy in the precise way Yoongi remembers—his pointy elbows bump into the drywall to keep Yoongi from taking the hit and his teeth tug on Yoongi’s lips as he licks and groans into Yoongi’s mouth.

It’s an eternity before they make it to the bed—feels like the kind of forever Yoongi wants when Namjoon lays him down in the middle of the mattress and slowly pulls his joggers and briefs off. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, hyung.” It comes in an exhale and Yoongi feels just as breathless when his mostly-hard cock bounces against his own pelvic bone. 

“Did you forget?” He teases Namjoon instead of giving away quite how affected he is (beyond the obvious). “Used to tell me all the time, remember?”

Namjoon wraps a hand around Yoongi’s cock and strokes slowly, still looks surprised to be there, surprised Yoongi’s naked under him. “Didn’t forget… Pretty skin, so smooth and perfect. Pretty face,” he says fondly. “Pretty cock, too.” He squeezes around the shaft at that and leans over to kiss Yoongi again, tongue insistent and just as skilled as Yoongi remembers.

Yoongi’s already lost in it—it’s a little dry and a little less confident than he thinks Namjoon used to be, but it’s still so good. Namjoon thumbs over his slit and with his other hand, he swirls around Yoongi’s balls just the way he likes and it’s all so much. Unfair, Yoongi thinks, that Namjoon’s still not naked, but Yoongi doesn’t even think he can open his eyes anymore, so maybe it doesn’t matter. 

“You still with me?” Namjoon whispers into his ear, teeth tugging gently at his earlobe and then lips moving down the column of his neck to tease at the thin skin there. 

“Yeah, yeah Joonie… I’m here. Feels so good. You’re so good for hyung.” 

Namjoon sounds like he might cry, voice cracking when he replies, “I missed this so much… Missed you.” 

When Yoongi opens his eyes, Namjoon’s eyes are glassy, his pupils are blown and he’s got love and lust written in ee cummings trickles across the planes of his face. It’s a look Yoongi never thought he’d see again, makes him feel wanted and proud and so fucking turned on he might pass out before he comes. 

“Want to feel you, Namjoon,” he whispers. “Please… need to see you.” 

Namjoon kisses him lazy and deep before he sits on his knees and yanks his (Yoongi’s) shirt off with a hand behind his back. His body has changed—Yoongi can see all the soft spots gone a little firmer since his enlistment. His chest looks wider and more filled out, his abs are more defined… The way Yoongi’s sweatpants sit low on his hips is beyond indecent. He can almost hear himself swallow his arousal. 

“I think I look a little different than last time,” Namjoon says in the most absurd understatement Yoongi’s heard this month. He looks bashful, and Yoongi can’t possibly think of what Namjoon would have to be ashamed of—he thinks he’s perfect. 

“I think you look perfect,” he mumbles. It changes Namjoon’s bashful smile into a smug one as he climbs off the bed and pulls Yoongi’s sweats off. His back is to Yoongi, and it’s a view he’s seen more times than he can count, but it’s still as good as the very first time. 

“You still keep lube in your bag when you travel?” Namjoon asks, throwing Yoongi a look over his shoulder. “In the small pocket?”

Yoongi nods, a little embarrassed to be known like this, a little awkward since it’s been so long since he’s been with Namjoon like this. He wonders, briefly, if anything’s changed about what Namjoon likes, wonders if he’ll still know how to make him come untouched. Wonders if Namjoon’s as predictable still as he seems to find Yoongi to be. Wants that, and also wants the small thrill of discovering all the new things, too. 

Namjoon gets back on the bed and Yoongi moves to make room when Namjoon taps on his hip to scoot him over. He’s always been like this, a little bossy, a little quiet until he’s got something brushing his prostate—then he’s pliant, talkative, a bumbly mess in the best way. Filth spills from his lips but it never makes much sense, just fragments of feelings and always a little bit of desperate pleading mixed in, always wanting more and deeper and harder. 

When Yoongi scoots down the bed and sits on his knees, expecting to slick up his own fingers and work Namjoon open slowly the way he likes, he gets his first surprise. Namjoon’s on his back with a pillow under his hips and he’s already two fingers deep, cheeks pink with a sheen of sweat on his forehead and staring right at Yoongi. 

It takes a lot of self-restraint not to try and slide one of his own fingers in alongside the two already there. “Oh, Joonie… You look so good like this, opening yourself up for hyung.”

“Want to be good for you,” Namjoon says, a little whiny. “Think about you all the time when I do this. Always you…” 

The angle’s all wrong, Yoongi knows it can’t feel great on his wrist, but then he sees the moment Namjoon finds the spot he’s been looking for—Namjoon’s eyes roll back in his head and he lets out a groan that sounds a lot like, “Yoongi,” and Yoongi has to kiss him. 

He pushes Namjoon’s hair off of his forehead and presses their lips together, slides his tongue across Namjoon’s and then pulls away to whisper praise into his ear—tells him he’s a good boy, he’s so pretty, he’s doing so well, Yoongi can’t wait to be inside him. 

They kiss slow and heavy, Yoongi’s dick is pressed up against Namjoon’s hip, and as Namjoon works a third finger in himself and moans long, Yoongi moves in little grinding motions against him—can’t help himself, needs just a little relief while he waits for Namjoon to be ready for him. He’s not huge, but Namjoon’s always needed a good amount of prep and they both like this part, like the anticipation and the teasing and the kissing. 

“I’m ready,” Namjoon says, voice shaky. “Need you to fuck me now… Please,” he adds. 

Always so polite while he makes Yoongi lose his mind. 

Yoongi sits up, makes a point of mouthing along Namjoon’s cock before he goes—it’s nothing too intense, just wet and open lips across Namjoon’s length, a little swirl of his tongue around the crown that makes Namjoon whine loudly and repeat himself. “Please, hyung… Please, I need it…” 

“Okay, yeah…Want to take care of you,” Yoongi agrees. He finds the condom Namjoon had left on the bed earlier and rolls it on, then sets himself between Namjoon’s thighs. He pauses then, because in movies, this is the moment when everything changes. When sex makes the feelings irreversible, sets two people on a path that they can’t walk backward along. Whatever he and Namjoon have isn’t a movie, it’s absolutely no fairytale, and even if Yoongi never slides into Namjoon’s tight heat, things will have changed between them. So, there’s nothing to lose, not really, and he’ll get the whole fucking world, he decides when he looks in Namjoon’s eyes, if things keep changing for the better.

Before, they weren’t careful and slow. Before, when Namjoon said he was ready, Yoongi would believe him and give him everything all at once. It was always deep and deeper and fast. But this time, he takes his time sliding into Namjoon. Wants to remember this, wants to document each still frame in case this is the last time. It’s something he’s always regretted about before, that he took their last time for granted. 

Or, what he thought would be the last time, anyway. 

“Oh, holy shit,” Namjoon sighs as Yoongi’s tip enters him. It’s followed by that mumbling, slurred rambling that Yoongi’s missed so much. It’s a mess of, “feels so good… hyung, please… fuck me, please” but never comes out coherent like that and Yoongi bends over to kiss the words right out of his mouth. When their lips part, Namjoon whispers, “Please hurry...” in the most desperate voice Yoongi thinks he’s ever heard.

“You’re so tight, Namjoon, give me a second… Feels too good, don’t want to come already.” 

Namjoon’s coherent enough to smile at that, his lips so close to Yoongi’s still that it’s almost as much a feeling as it is a sight. 

Finally, finally, Yoongi works all the way in, his hips flush with Namjoon’s skin. He pauses for a minute, finds one of Namjoon’s hands and tangles their fingers together at their sides, and then he pulls out halfway and thrusts back in. 

“Oh my god,” Namjoon groans. “Don’t stop, please…” 

And Yoongi doesn’t. Keeps licking the curses out of Namjoon’s mouth and pushes one of his thighs back further so he can get the right angle. When he starts hitting Namjoon’s prostate on every thrust, he feels Namjoon’s fingers tighten around his, feels him moan into Yoongi’s mouth, sees the tears gather in the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re so good, Namjoonie, feel so good around my cock.” 

“I’m so close, hyung,” he whines, follows it with a little begging, just like always, greedy for more. 

“Are you gonna come for me,” Yoongi asks. “Just like this?” 

Namjoon can only nod because Yoongi’s picked up his pace, curves his back so he can get one of Namjoon’s nipples in his mouth, teases and nips at the skin there and makes Namjoon absolutely keen underneath him. 

This is what Yoongi remembers, the almost nonstop, “Please, please, please… wanna come, hyung,” that Namjoon’s repeating. 

“Yeah, come on, baby, want to see you,” he agrees, out of breath and so enamored all over again. 

Yoongi lets go of Namjoon’s thigh and runs just the tip of a finger along Namjoon’s cock—that’s all it takes. Namjoon lets out a long moan and then he’s coming, body tightening around Yoongi and cum streaked across his own stomach before he goes lax and loose. 

“Want you to come, hyung,” he says, and it comes out a little raspy and foggy, and Yoongi loves him like this. 

Loves him. 

“Fuck, I love you… Love you, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon wraps long arms around Yoongi’s shoulders and pulls him closer. “Love you so much, hyung.” 

And that’s what does it for Yoongi. He gives a couple of staccato thrusts into Namjoon and then he’s spilling into the condom and trying not to collapse down on top of the man underneath him. 

They’re kissing again, drawn out and soft, and they stay that way until they can’t really anymore, Yoongi slipping out of Namjoon and disposing of the condom while Namjoon closes his eyes and wipes leaking tears out of his eyes. 

In the bathroom, Yoongi grabs a washcloth and looks in the mirror. He doesn’t look any different than he did this morning, but he feels like he’s been reborn a little. It’s dangerous to feel this hopeful, but it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than feeling so sad. 

He cleans Namjoon as best he can, and gets water for both of them before climbing back into bed. 

“We should talk tomorrow,” he says as he pulls Namjoon tight against him and presses a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow… Need to talk,” Namjoon agrees sleepily. 

“Go to sleep, Namjoonie.” Fond, fond, fond. 

“G’night, hyung.” 

Namjoon’s asleep before he can say it back. 

Yoongi lays in the dark bedroom and he holds Namjoon tight, and sleep evades him. There’s so much unsaid, so much they really do need to figure out. They can’t just pretend the last three years didn’t happen, and there’s so much Yoongi wants to know, so much he wants to tell Namjoon, too. 

But it’s late, and he’s tired, and Namjoon’s already started snoring, so it will wait. They will sleep, and in the morning, they’ll walk this new path together and this time, Yoongi will say what he means and ask questions and get all the information before he decides what someone else is thinking on their behalf. If Namjoon can try, he can, too. 

They both deserve at least that much. 

It’s been less than one day since he let Namjoon back into his life, and the last thing he thinks before he slips into sleep is that for once, he might not still be counting the days when he wakes up in the morning. 

[dallysnecklace]

Heyy! Hope you are well! I had a the outsiders Dallas x nice/ innocent reader where they go to the diner to pick up lunch and the reader offers to go inside and wait for the food while Dallas waits outside for the reader and the readers ex boyfriend see her and talks to her because they ended on good terms and they hug and maybe even play fight a little bit and the pick up order is ready and he pays for the food and Dallas get jealous? only if you can!:) Have a good one:)

Dallas Winston x ditzy! Reader

Okay I loved the idea of Dallas with an innocent reader who never knows if someone is flirting with her, it’s just an amazing combo. Also I am doing well thank you! 💌

WARNING: some possessiveness, and a unwanted kiss, and fighting, no gore tho!

Dallas knew that his girlfriend was kind of an airhead. She was always giddy, never understanding slang, and always confused about something. Although most would think that the big bad Dallas Winston would never find someone like that attractive, he was drawn to you.

“Dallas can we get fries please!” You pleaded to your boyfriend, who was currently doing his hair in the mirror.

“Doll, we got fries yesterday.” He looked at you through the mirror. You we’re sitting on his messy bed, in a sundress. He thought you looked absolutely beautiful.

“Besides, who else but me should be allowed to see you when you look this beautiful?” He sat next to you and kissed your temple, a sign of his affection. You blushed. You could get very flustered easily, and Dallas always used this to his advantage.

“Aww comon Dal please! I’m really hungry!” You pleaded.

The boy knew your love of fries, “Fine. Only because your so adorable.” He huffed as he grabbed his switch and the two of you were out the door. You celebrated to yourself and followed him out the door.

Your linked hands separated as you got close to the diner. “Hey I’m gonna go in and grab everything. I’ll be back in a second. Don’t move sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear.

“Wait no, Dal you always go in. I’ll pay this time.” Before he could object, you went into the dinner and ordered fries, and a vanilla milkshake.

You smiled to yourself and leaned against the wall of diner as you waited to hear your number, 33. You were so happy. You never had someone care so much for you, and it meant the world. Your past boyfriend was great, but he was never understanding. You had a hard time processing social cues and he always got angry with you for it, however, Dallas didn’t.

Suddenly a rough voice broke through your inner thoughts, belonging to your ex-boyfriend, Alex.

“Hey! Y/n! You look gorgeous. How are you?” He walked over to you, and leaned against the wall next to you.

“Hey, Alex how are you?” You smiled at him, and he smiled back. He chuckled a bit at you not answering, and immediately asking the same question he did. 

“I’m good, I missed you a lot.” He sighed. “My brother just got drafted for Vietnam. It’s scary.”

Your heart immediately ached for the boy, you knew how close he and his brother were. You pulled him in for a hug, and he rested his head on your shoulder. You could feel his lips graze your neck. Obviously, you thought nothing of this. He was in a time of need, and you were there for him. However, Dallas Winston did not think the same.

He peaked into the window on the side of diner to check in on you. He saw you, his girlfriend, hugging some… ugly guy? At least that’s what he thought. Who the fuck was he and why were his lips so close to your neck? Dallas was confused, and pissed, to say the least. He wasn’t angry at you, he assumed that this guy had said something to make you hug him. He knew that you didn’t know, so he was going to let it slide, at least, for now.

You pulled away from the hug, his arms still lingering around you, which confused you. He held you closer and you thought he wanted to play fight! This was one of your favorites. You reached out to grab his sides and start to tickle him, and he paused for a second, but then went a long with it. His hands traveled to your hips and waist, starting to tickle you aswell. You started to giggle, and he did too. Suddenly, you heard, “33! Number 33!”

You separated from his grasp, and went up to the counter to pay.

“That’ll be 7.99 miss.” The young girl said.

You smiled and pulled out your wallet. However, before you could pay, Alex’s hand grabbed yours, and pushed it down.

“I’ll pay.” He beamed at you.

“Oh- okay. Thank you! It’s really not necessary though.” You said to him.

“No, it is.” He said and paid.

By this point Dallas was pissed. He saw everything that was going on in this guys head, and he knew that all this guy was trying to do was to get you to come back to his place with him.

You walked out of the diner with Alex, and thanked him once again.

“Thank you again for paying, I really appreciate it.” You said.

“Of course, anything for my girl.” Alex looked back at you. He suddenly put his lips on yours, and you, totally shell-shocked pulled away and and pushed him off you.

“Who the hell said she’s your girl, and did she say you could fucking kiss her?” Dallas stormed over, and punched Alex in the jaw.

Alex stepped back, holding his jaw in pain. He looked at you, then at your fuming boyfriend.

“Oh so now your dating Dallas Winston? Really y/n?”

“Yes I am.” You stated boldly.

Dallas walked slowly up to Alex, like a lion stalking it’s pray.

“She’s mine. She’s mine and only mine, and will never be yours ever. Understand?”

“Y-yeah.” Alex whispered.

“Do you fucking understand?” Dallas yelled.

“I understand.” Alex said louder.

“Good now leave me and my girl the fuck alone.”

Alex ran off, leaving you and Dallas alone.

You started to cry, and ran into Dal’s arms.

“Why would he do that Dallas? I thought he was actually going to be nice to me?” You sobbed into his chest.

“Some men are horrible. I’m so sorry sweetheart I should’ve been there with you. I could’ve prevented this.” His arms tightened around you, and he rubbed your back, and pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“No, it’s okay.” You softly spoke into the leather of his jacket. “It isn’t your fault at all. I love you.” You looked up at him.

“I love you so much.” He replied. “Now, come on. We’re going to go home, forget stupid ugly Alex and enjoy our fries and milkshake like we planned.”

You giggled at his comment about Alex, “okay. Can we watch Psycho?”

“Doll, we already watched that and every time we do you get scared!” He laughed.

“But it’s good! Please I won’t get scared this time.” You pleaded.

“Fine, only because your cute.”

You blushed and the two of you walked home, feeling confident in the other and your feelings.

[lovely-renard]

Livin' the domestic life ♡

Featuring : Atsumu, Bokuto, Osamu, Sakusa, Akaashi, Suna

A/N : domestic boys for the win <3

ATSUMU - Atsumu takes home decoration and design way too seriously for someone with... such specific tastes (if you’d let him, he'd paint one of your bedroom's wall in yellow and another in neon pink...). But it never feels like a chore when you have to go buy new furniture for the house. He may takes an insane amount of time looking at each curtains, taking towels in his hand and considering them as if it was a life-changing decision but his implication in it is kind of adorable and pure when you think about it. It's even more cute of him when he insists on buying new plants for the house, already naming them before you even made it to the register. 

BOKUTO - You should've known better than to trust him for that kind of stuff. When you introduced the idea of hanging a painting on the wall of your living room, Bokuto was agreeing before you even showed him what was the painting you had in mind. Although, when you actually bring it home, you realized none of you knew how to hang it right. Actually, who knows how to hang their stuff without it looking crooked or askew? But, Bokuto being Bokuto (and him wanting to show off his non-existent skills in manual labor), he told you everything would be fine, that putting a nail on the wall was as easy as it seemed. Well, now that you're looking at the painting (who is really crook, you can't deny it), you're not so sure it's easy to hang anything on a freaking wall. But does it really matter when you boyfriend looks at you proudly, boasting "Well? What did i tell you? I'm the best in this kind of stuff! We should add another one in the hallway, don't you think?".

OSAMU - Osamu may cooks all day, be in contact with food nearly 24/24, heck even dream of dishes, he stills wants to prepare dinner for both of you. However, what he loves more than cooking is you joining him while he ponders on the recipe he wants to try tonight. It's way much funnier to prepare dinner with the love of his life and, honestly, it's a feeling he'll never grow tired of. Sometimes, tho, instead of cooking the kitchen turns into a playfield, with fingers tickling the other and giggles filling the air. It might result in a burnt dinner but you're too busy laughing and pushing Osamu away because "Not here, Samu! It- it tickles so much i'm gonna pee myself!" to even care about that (and there's always take out).

SAKUSA - Sakusa takes cleaning duties pretty seriously. When he's not praticting and not busy doing something else, you always find him doing something around the house : cleaning the bathroom, opening the windows in the bedroom, taking out the trash; he's on top of his (domestic) game. You still do your fair share of tasks but there's one thing you need to do together: fluffing the pillows. Ever since he told you it was important to avoid neck pain, it began a weekly task that you look forward to. Because, instead of fluffing them the traditional way, you created your own way : fluffing them while having a pillow fight. It's not a real fight, none of you hit the other with the intention of winning but it makes the task appears less blend, gloomy and it works very well. Plus, you get to see Sakusa's tiny smile, the one he only shows you and that's the best part of it. 

 AKAASHI - Sunday always means chores days. To avoid laziness and reporting those duties, you and Akaashi decided, when you moved in together, to do them together as a boost of motivation. And so, after lunch, you wash the dishes while he dries them, he cleans the window, you mop the floor. His favorite task tho will always be folding the bed sheets. You're standing in front of him, the end of the bed sheets in your hands. He makes sure it's well outstreched before folding it with you and, when you both met in the middle of folding it, he kisses your nose, flustering you in the process, before taking the next ones, a small smirk etched on his face.

SUNA - Contrary to popular belief, he likes doing groceries (only with you, he won’t go by himself) for one specific reason. When you reach the store, he takes the cart and beckons you to jump on it. That's when the fun can begins. He makes sure to choose an empty alley before running with the cart in his hand. It's a race against no one but it's just funny to do this with him. Sometimes people catch you and glances weirdly at you both but you can't find yourself to care, not when Suna guides you to another alley and start to speed up again.   

[iloveyourwritingthankyou]

AAAA I NEED MORE EDDIE X CHEER MANAGER READER HCS,, if ur taking rqs id love to read confession and first date/first kiss hcs!!!! :D

Totally up for cheer manager requests! I think their full confessions actually happen a while after their first "date" and kiss so I’m just gonna do those, these ended up kinda long tho

Eddie x cheer manager!reader first date/kiss head canons

Masterlist

Ok so I think the first time Eddie asks her out isn't actually their first date

After the talent show Eddie coincidently never skips school during a pep rally ever again

And maybe he spends nearly the whole performance looking at the girl hitting play on their music but no one ever says anything because Eddie Munson is attending and behaving at school events and that’s a miracle so nobody wants to jeopardise it

So when the basketball final happens Eddie actually does postpone hellfire for Lucas and suggests they all go, because he wanted to go see reader at the game anyways and going to support Lucas is a way better justification for attending and also he’s actually happy to show up to cheer for Lucas because Eddie really does love his hellfire kids

And when they win and everyone's filtering out of the gym Eddie approaches the cheer team locker room because he's finally going to ask reader on a date, if he’s attending basketball games for her what else could he have to loose

His hair is freshly washed, his clothes are clean, and he’s put on cologne even if you can't smell it very well over all the other sweaty bodies in the gym

he goes down and congratulates reader on doing such a good job running the cheer team all year, and how they were great tonight and are totally the reason the basketball team won!

And then Eddie stutters his way through an offer to take them out to dinner to celebrate because reader deserves a reward after all her hard work and what a good job she's done!

And reader is burning up because omg he’s asking her to dinner?? Possibly as a date? And Eddie Munson has paid attention to the cheer teams performances to know how well she’s done?

But they don’t get their first proper date yet; because as she explains to Eddie even though she would love to go to dinner with him, the team has a post-game party that she has attend

Not the basketball teams party, the cheer team holds their own after an incident with the basket ball team engaging in inappropriate conduct with some of the girls invited

The cheer team also try to invite some of the younger basketball team members because the team has a habit of peer pressuring them into irresponsible drinking too and they deserve a celebration that is safe for them!

But reader tells Eddie that she'd love to see him at the party later, she's just got to head home and get changed and do a last run for drinks and snacks, but it starts at 9 and he should wear team colours!

And so, like the whipped little fool he is, Eddie drives home and digs through every last corner of his cupboard to find something green or yellow

After very little success he starts calling the hellfire boys because she asked him specifically for team colours, and he can't let her down that easy

Eventually Mike let's him know he's got a second green shirt, and Eddie can have it if he's willing to grab the hellfire kids on the way to the party

So Eddie scoops up every yellow pin he could find to attach to his jacket and sets out to round everyone up

They all get to the party a little after 9, Eddie wanted to turn up earlier because he was anxious to see reader again, but the gang was certain that was decidedly uncool and they could not let that happen

So Eddie uses the time to drop by the liquor store, the cashier is fairly easily convinced that Eddie was held back enough times to be 21

Before he goes in the boys insist he has to by premixed drinks that are sealed up, the cheer team won't let anything else into the party

Her younger brother may also gently suggest it wouldn't hurt his chances to grab a specific drink if he plans to share them with a certain someone

Reader is already a drink or two in by the time Eddie gets to the party so she's a little more talkative and confident than usual

Eddie finds her in the kitchen and feels a little less out of place when she starts talking to him as he puts the drinks in the fridge

"You should wear colour more often Munson, it looks cute on you"

And Eddie listens immediately because he is now wearing an additional shade of bright red

Eddie keeps the last drink destined for the fridge and starts drinking it, because there’s no way he’s going to survive reader talking to him like that when he's sober

He turns around and mutters a small thank you, realising that reader got changed into a cheer uniform between the game and the party, and God did her thighs look good in that skirt as she sat on the kitchen bench the things he would do to have them wrapped around his head...

Reader sees Eddie staring and explains that the cheer team like to match for parties

As the music changes reader asks Eddie to dance and he couldn't deny her anything, especially when she's dressed up like that, so he agrees to dance after he finishes his drink

Reader finally notices what he’s holding “ooh those are my favourite can I have a sip” and Eddie hands the drink over because what else could be possibly do

Our poor boy short circuits when he realises reader left lipstick on the can - it’s her lipstick and it’s touching his lips when he drinks what’s left and he’s so touch starved they may as well have kissed him

The two spend the rest of the night dancing, talking, and occasionally drifting away to give updates to their respective friend groups

As the night is winding down reader offers to walk Eddie and the boys to the car, Eddie had stopped drinking a few hours ago to make sure he was sober enough to drive them all home

Reader helps pile her brother and his friends into the back of the van, all of them being a little more drunk than they probably should be

Unlike Eddie, reader had not stopped drinking, so when Eddie goes to get in his car reader grabs his hand

"Thanks for making sure they all get home safe tonight, also i know you put off hellfire to come watch the game tonight even though it’s the end of the campaign, seeing as though you came to my final maybe I could come watch yours?"

Eddie is convinced he's dreaming because she’s so pretty!! And she knows about his campaign!!! And she wants to come watch it!!!! And oh no he's been quiet for too long

"Yea of course you're always welcome, people are always welcome to come watch so yea you can come see it"

Reader is absolutely enamoured by his nervous rambling, and says thank you before kissing his cheek because he’s just so cute and she really couldn't stop herself

She says goodnight and promptly walks back into the house because she's still a little nervous to wait for his reaction once she realises what he's done

She musters up the courage to look out the window once she's back inside to see Eddie with pink cheeks sporting a lipstick stain, looking a little dazed, and still not back in his van

One of the boys eventually leans out of the back seat to ask him what he's doing though, and they get on their way

Eddie and the boys were some of the last people at the party, the team letting them linger knowing none of them were much trouble, especially with reader around

So there was no one to judge the fact that the team had possibly been staring through the windows as reader said her goodbyes

And they are popping bottles when she gets back inside, because that was really big for her! and they're so proud of their girl and she turned him into a puddle

And after dropping off the party Eddie may have gone home to work on his campaign a little more, because it had to be more than perfect is reader was going to see it

he may have also started making her a hellfire shirt to wear because he turned up in dress code for her event it’s only fair she return the favour it has nothing to do with Eddie wanting to see her wear his clothes he swears

(also I very much picture reader as being the older sibling of one of the party members, between reader loving all the members of the party like younger siblings anyways and me being intentionally vague it could be Sinclair or Henderson reader depending on what you want, and I'm happy to do separate more specific head canons for both)

[rogerswifesblog]

1 - Broken bones and broken hearts

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I don’t know shit about boxing, don’t come at me. All I know is from Google. Anyway, we ( @jamneuromain )came up with this story a while ago and I totally forgot about it. It’ll contain a lot of angst, some smut and of course fluff. This trope is so friends to lover (or maybe even a bit of friends to enemies to lovers?) and miscommunication-so If you get angry and frustrated easily…beware🤣

Pairing: Boxer Steve Rogers x Reader

Series summary; There was only one rule between best friends. Don’t have sex. But what happens when you break it anyway?

chapter Summary: Fights are won, titles received and a mistake is made…was it a mistake tho?

Warnings; teasing, silly jokes, slightly insecure reader if you squint, jealous Steve, implied/mentioned Clint x Natasha, alcohol, smut, p in v, fingering, spit kink, Captain kink, cum eating, cum play, creampie, slight breeding kink? Maybe?, squirting, marking (hickeys), angst, cliffhanger Anything else??

Words: around 6 k

Steve Rogers was many things; a talented boxer, intelligent, strong and handsome. His body is built like the ones of a Greek statue or even a god. Over six feet tall. Shoulder to waist ratio that should be illegal. With piercing blue eyes and a sweet boy-nextdoor-vibe that women and men are going crazy over.

Steve Rogers was also your best friend. And the love of your life. Which of course, he does not know.

You’d never tell him that. It would destroy your friendship of ten years. You couldn’t lose him. He was too important. Too important to risk everything for something that would probably never happen- Steve could have every woman or man he wanted. Why would he want you? If he’d want you, you two would already be together. But you weren’t. He didn’t want you.

Sighing you entered the gym, already having waited ten minutes in the car. Why the hell wasn’t he coming? He asked you to pick him up at five. You were on time.

He wasn’t.

“Steve! You’re late!” you entered the room he was training in, currently in the ring with someone. For a moment he looked back at you- before the other person hit him straight in the jaw. “Don’t take your eyes off of your opponent, Rogers. Now go to your girl, she sounds mad.” Steve rubbed his chin lightly, stepping away from the ring.

“Is it time?” For a moment you didn’t listen, being too taken aback by his glistening naked chest… by these gorgeous big pecks… “Don’t stare at my nipples” “but they’re right in front of my face-“ “I’m also not allowed to look at your boobs-“ “Steve that’s different” you laughed, gently punching him in the stomach. He gasped, pretending to be hurt.

You both grinned for a moment. God, you loved this dork. The friendship and comfortable feeling you had with him.

“You’re late. Let’s go-“ “but I need to shower.” You sighed, grabbing his massive, hard and damp with sweat biceps and pulled him with you. “You’ll shower at my place. I’m hungry and I just ordered food for us, so we need to get home soon.”

Steve smiled dumbly, letting you pull him by his arms- but before you left the gym, you told him to put on a shirt which he did.

Within ten minutes you were home and just in time to get the food.

While you sat down on the couch and turned on your current binge-watch-series Steve showered. And you tried not to picture him in your shower, wet and naked… his hard muscles glistening with waterdrops… grabbing his hard dick with his rough hand. Stroking it…

Gasping you shook your head quickly, trying not to think about your best friend in such a situation. God you were so deep in it. Always thinking about Steve- so many inappropriate thoughts- not just those but enough for it to be hard to look into his eyes. How many times have you come picturing him over you? His thick fingers teasing your hole instead of your slender ones, not even being able to reach that special spot. Him kissing you gently, worshiping your body…

He talked about it a lot. Well, about what he did to his partners- which meant not to you. To some one night stands or ex partners… you knew he loved pleasuring others. Taking his time… god, you never had someone this attentive. You’d love to spend one night with him. If you couldn’t have him as your lover… or maybe-

“God not this again. Let’s watch something else.” Steve's voice interrupted your thinking, making you look into your takeout box. You felt your blood rush to your cheeks, making your blush furiously.

„But I like it.“ „but I don’t-“ „And you think I give a shit about- Steve- no- give it back!“ you scoffed, trying to take the remote from him but it was too late, he turned off your binge-series. „We’re watching something else.“

You had to watch some baking show.

Great.

„And I don’t like this-“ „see, now I’m not giving crap about that-“ „Steve you shit I bought you food-“ „And I’m very grateful for that. But I will never, I mean never, watch whatever the hell your show is called“ he grinned, pulling you closer against him, making your heartbeat quicken.

Sighing you leaned your head against his shoulder. „Fine. But I’m mad at you.“ „Nope, you’re not. You love me too much“ Steve laughed, kissing your temple gently. Once again you sighed. You couldn’t be mad at him.

You ate your food, watching people bake while Steve commented on the whole show- while he wasn’t a baker himself. He was shit at cooking and baking. You were always cooking for the two of you- well when he stayed over or was at your place which was actually quite a lot.

You should ask him to pay rent. This thought made your chuckle which of course made Steve look at you, confused. “What?” “Nothing just…thinking” you laughed. Steve couldn’t stop himself from grinning. “Oh you were thinking? That’s a dangerous-“ “I was thinking about making you pay rent.”

“-nevermind.” He stopped his teasing quickly, grin vanishing which made you laugh out loud.

Shaking your head you looked back at the tv. “You’re an idiot, Stevie.”

The name made his heart flutter. At the same time his throat tightened. God, how he wished to be with you. Be your Stevie. But you were only his friend. Best friend… he couldn’t risk this amazing friendship because of a silly crush. (It was, in fact, not just a silly crush. He loved you more than he thought was possible for a human being.)

“But I’m your idiot” he laughed quietly.

You wished he would mean it.

„I’m nervous…“ you heard Steve’s voice after a while. A quiet whisper, barely audible. But you still heard it. „About the next fight?“ asking, you already felt him nod against your neck. Somehow you had changed your positions a bit, both of you slid lower with Steve’s head against your throat. Burying his face against the warm skin of your neck, his cheek against your pulsepoint. “It’s not just a fight… It's about the title of the state champion. I don’t think I can-”

„Steve, you’re always awesome, don’t worry, baby“ you whispered, the pet name slipping from your lips like it was normal. But it wasn’t. You could feel it, as Steve tensed for a moment. Shit. Now he’d think you’re weird. Or… something. But his muscles relaxed immediately after. What you didn’t know is how much he actually enjoyed hearing it. Even though it had surprised him at first.

He wished you’d say it more often.

“Please be there… I think you’re like a lucky charm. Every Time you’re there I win” he smiled against your skin, making the hair at your neck stand. Chuckling you pulled him a bit closer, grabbing a blanket and putting it around Steve’s shoulders. He quickly cuddled closer to you, closing his eyes. “Just sleep a bit, you need to rest” with that you kissed his head gently.

Steve nodded, sighing comfortably. He could stay like this forever.

But he couldn’t, especially not after hearing the awful theme song of the show you were currently obsessed with. “No- I hate this-“ “shhhhh, just sleep” you grinned against his head, pulling him closer to you, holding him in a headlock, making him unable to move. A quiet laugh escaped his lips while he turned around and buried his face against you, not wanting to watch the show. “You’re unbelievable” he shook his head slightly,

“And you’re unbelievably weak for a boxer who’s supposed to- Steve stop!“

With that you two fooled around a bit before you both laid down and took a nap together.

A week later you were standing with Steve in the hall where his match would happen in a few minutes. You could tell he was nervous, seeing as he was fidgeting with his fingers and calming his breath every few seconds.

“Hey- Steve- it’s okay. You’ll do great. I know it” you whispered, gently grabbing his hands and squeezing. Sighing, you let your gaze slide over his face. Steve was really trying not to show how nervous he was but… he wasn’t doing a good job. He was a shit liar. “Your coaches said you’re ready. You’ll rock it. I know, you’ll do” with that you pulled Steve in a tight hug, feeling his muscles relax against you.

After a while Steve had to go into the ring, being introduced as Steve Rogers aka Captain Rogers- or what many people shouted “America's Sweetheart” which made you giggle. You could see Steve’s cheeks turning a slight rosy color, making you laugh in delight.

Steve’s rival was… huge. Like, really, really huge. He was a few inches taller than Steve and pure muscles. People chanted ‘thunder’ like it was a prayer while the referee introduced him as Thor.

He was kinda handsome… Steve noticed your gaze, unknowingly pulling his eyebrows together and glaring at you for a moment but you didn’t even notice, too busy ogling Thor.

And Thor was popular. Many people were shouting his name and also how he’d destroy his rival, Steve. You could tell it made Steve even more nervous- which you actually understood.

Thor seemed very sure about himself while Steve looked like a lost puppy.

God this can’t be happening! Steve trained for this for so long. And now he’d lose his confidence because of someone’s fans? Not on your watch!

You stepped a bit closer to the ring, grabbing Steve’s attention. “You’ll do it, baby. I believe in you” you grinned at him, making the corner of his lips twitch a bit.

The first three rounds were… mostly Steve getting punched and trying to dodge Thor’s hits.

You could tell the judges weren’t really impressed by Steve- not that he was bad. He was just insecure. You could see he was once again more of the small kid, than a boxing champion. But you knew he was amazing! He just needed some help.

After the fourth round Steve was pulled back into his corner where he drank a bit and got his blood wiped away, after Thor got him in the nose.

Even though Steve’s coach didn’t want you to come closer to him, you managed to step right next to the ring, pulling at Steve’s arm. “Stevie- look at me” you cupped his face in your hands when he leaned down to you. “You can do it, baby. I know you can” you whispered before taking a deep breath and pressing your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

There was some cheering behind you but you blended it completely out. The only thing that mattered right now was the feeling of Steve’s soft lips. You could taste a bit of blood from where his lips had split slightly but it didn’t make the kiss any worse. It wasn’t a perfect kiss but it was just like your friendship, chaotic. People shouted in the background, the coach started hitting Steve’s arm gently to get his attention back to the match while his break slowly came to an end. You let his tongue slip into your mouth, not being able to stop the quiet moan that escaped your lips.

Fuck, he was really a great kisser. You wondered what else he could do with-

Grinning he pulled away, quickly giving you a last peck on the lips before standing up. “Go get ‘im Captain!” you called breathlessly after him.

He definitely got a boost of energy and confidence, winning every next round and nearly punching Thor K.O. in the last round but the time ran out.

Both men stood now with the referee between them, holding both of their arms.

You felt your breathing stop for a moment.

Steve had to win! He was so good!

“And after ten rounds, we have a winner though a split decision…”

You prayed to god it was Steve. He deserved it so much.

“Captain Steve Rogers, our new state champion!!!”

Steve’s hand was lifted into the air.

The people started cheering, you were probably one of the loudest while even Thor congratulated Steve with a firm handshake and handsome smile. He seemed really happy for Steve.

Steve grinned at him happily, saying something before literally jumping out of the ring, rushing to you, lifting you up and spinning in circles while he jumped like a happy little kid. “I did it!!” he laughed, making you laugh as well. “I knew you’d win! You were great Steve” you grinned, kissing his face where he wasn’t bruised.

Slowly he put you down, grinning once again. For a moment he looked down at your lips, but before he could do whatever he had been thinking about his coach called his name. “I’ll be back in a minute” he was still grinning.

It took Steve around ten minutes to finally come back to you- with a golden belt in his hands and Thor right behind him. They both were laughing, even though they still had some dry blood on their faces and bodies.

Steve kinda looked hot like that.

Could your brain please stop thinking like that?

“Thor told me there’s always a great big party for the winner at the bar just around the corner. Would you like to go there with me-us?” Steve asked while Thor stepped closer and held out his hand for you to shake. “Thor, pleasure meet you, pretty lady. Steven already told me you’re his best friend- seemed like more than friends to me but I sometimes don’t understand your culture” you laughed quietly, shaking his hand and introducing yourself.

“Well, yeah, we… we are friends… it’s- we- Steve needed some motivation” you blushed. “That’s right, My Lady, he indeed did need a lot of motivation-“ “I wasn’t that bad.” “You were, Steven. I was pretty sure I could’ve knocked you out if I wanted to”

Steve only glared at him while Thor seemed like he didn’t even notice having insulted Steve. You could already tell Thor was a good guy. Maybe a bit of a himbo but in a good way. He was nice.

“I’d love to join you but you both need to shower… and put some clothes on.”

You waited for them half an hour just checking your social media’s. And also thinking back to the kiss…

Would it change anything now? Did it mean to Steve anything?

For you the kiss meant a lot, not just a bit of motivation for Steve to win. You really tried to put your feelings into the kiss…

But what if Steve really didn’t feel the same? Maybe he’d just forget the kiss. Hopefully…

Before you could overthink it any more the two blond beefcakes came out and pulled you out of your thoughts when you heard Thor's booming laugh.

“Shall we, pretty lady?” said the taller man, holding out his arm for you to grab onto. Grinning you did just that, not noticing Steve’s jealous gaze lingering on the two of you.

With a pleased smile on your face you walked with Thor ahead while Steve followed the two of you.

Why were you walking with Thor like that? He should be the one you were holding onto.

“You coming, Steve?” you called over your shoulder, making Steve sigh quietly while he followed. He really hoped this kiss could’ve changed something but maybe it was really just to push his ego a bit. At least he won.

A win is a win…? No. He’d rather have his girl than a stupid title. Would he now lose you? Because of Thor? Thor didn’t seem like someone who’d steal his- someone’s- girl.

But then, he didn’t really know him that much.

The people in the bar seemed to know Thor, greeting him as soon as he walked through the door- not only that, they also greeted Steve immediately.

After sitting down a round of beers and a mojito for you was brought. “Oh it’s not the usual Clint. Jane isn’t coming today, what would you like to drink, pretty lady?” asked Thor, but you already pulled the mojito closer to you. “Oh I’m totally fine being Jane for the night” you grinned cheekily, making Thor and also Clint laugh.

Steve slid into the booth right next to you, putting an arm around you, making you look at him in surprise while you put your soft lips around the straw, drinking the cold liquid. “So, Jane?” He repeated the name, making you roll your eyes. “It’s Thor's girlfriend. She’s studying something… well, science. She couldn’t join us- Thor talks about her a lot” you grinned, putting your slightly cooler hand on Steve’s thigh.

He felt the coldness though his pants, making him gasp. For a moment he could see your eyes sparkle mischievously but then you quickly looked away when more people came and sat down around the table.

They all introduced themselves as Sif, Hogun, Fandral and Volstagg. And they were all pretty nice.

Thor asked Steve to invite his other friends here which he did. After half an hour you heard Buckys laugh, while Natasha, Tony, Sam and him entered the bar. Wanda had texted you she couldn’t come today since Pietro came home after traveling a few months and they wanted to spend some time together.

Bucky squeezing next to Steve, already hugging him happily.

After a few minutes everyone was seated and had a drink or beer in their grip. You grinned at Bucky for a moment- and he already knew what you were thinking about.

“Tequila?”

“Tequila.”

With that he went to the bartender- Clint- and ordered a tray of tequila shots, knowing damn well Natasha would drink like half of it and still stay the most sober of all of us.

Few minutes later he came back with the shots, putting the tray down on the table. Thor and his friends just drank their beer, not being fans of tequila- not that you minded. More for you and Bucky. Steve would probably also only drink two and otherwise drink his beer.

Maybe that’s good, someone had to be sober enough to call the cabs- but when Steve was the first one to down a shot and bite into a lime, your mouth fell slightly agape. Even Tony seemed surprised and he was the one always trying to make Steve drink. You looked at Bucky for a moment- his eyebrows nearly disappeared in his hairline.

“What?” Steve mumbled while a blush crept along his neck to his cheeks. You just shook your head with a happy laugh. “The new title affects our Stevie more than we thought-this calls for a second tray.”

You could already feel you were tipsy-you felt the buzz of the alcohol right to your toes, warming your whole body pleasingly, especially with Steve’s arm around your shoulders. Your head was resting on his shoulders, while you unknowingly rubbed his thigh with your hand, dangerously close to his crotch-and it was making him crazy.

He couldn’t stop thinking about your touch. About your lips. Maybe it was just the Alkohol, but he felt like you were doing this on purpose. Your hand was so close to his hardening dick, he felt like you could probably feel his pants tenting.

Fuck it.

For a moment he looked at you, pulling you a bit closer, while he grabbed your hand and slowly moved higher. Everyone around you was busy with heated conversations about…you weren’t sure anymore. You haven’t been listening for a while at this point.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling his hard dick against your palm. Fuck, he really was big. Just like you remembered and often imagined.

And fuck you really wanted to actually feel him. In your palm. Mouth. Cunt. You wanted him everywhere. You wanted him to fill you.

For a moment you stroked over his jeans, before seeing from the corner of your eyes that a new drink was put down on the table, making you jump away from Steve. You pulled your hand away and giggled into Steve’s shoulder, while he also couldn’t stop the grin from his lips.

Clint brought a new drink for Natasha-even though she hadn’t ordered anything. That’s exactly what she said. Clint blushed a bit. “It’s from…me. It’s a-it’s a White Russian. I noticed your accent and thought you would like it. Now that I’m saying it out loud I feel pretty stupid. Sorry. Just-just forget it” While he quickly turned around and walked away-nearly falling over a chair-Natasha watched him for a moment, before grabbing the drink and taking a sip. A small smile appeared on her lips, which she quickly hid behind her Glas.

So you had been right when you noticed Clint had been ogling her all evening.

Bucky leaned closer to Natasha, wanting to grab her Glas. “Lemme try” “no, it’s for me-“ “but I’m Russian too-” “well, then go and ask him if he makes you one too. Maybe if you let your pretty eyes do the work he’d do it for half price.” Bucky laughed, even though he tried to pout at her-which didn’t work of course.

You felt Steve squirming next to you, making you look back at him. One of his hands was in his pocket, probably trying to hide his bulge, while he was still holding you close. Your gaze fell to his rosy lips. So soft…you really wanted to tell them again. But not here In front of all these people.

They would believe you if you’d go home because Steve was tired, right? And since he was supposed to stay at your place today, you’d have to go with him…

Grinning you leaned closer to Steve, whispering into his ear. “Let’s get out of here…wanna go home.” Steve looked at you in surprise before grinning cheekily and nodding. “Yeah, Let’s go home.”

You quickly said your goodbyes, feeling your friends eyes on your backs while leaving the bar.

Steve called an Uber and luckily it didn’t take long for him to arrive. Sitting in the backseat Steve already started kissing you passionately, his hands exploring your thighs and ass, while you pressed your own palm to his clothes cock, stroking him over the pants. Feeling his arousal your hole clenched around nothing, wanting to be filled. Fucked.

A quiet gasp escaped his lips, while the kiss became more passionate with every second. It was more teeth and tongue than before. He was taking your breath away. Literally.

His hand slowly slid to your-

The driver cleared his throat and when you looked out of the window you noticed you were already at your Adresse. A blush crept over your cheeks imagining how fast he was probably driving just to get the two of you out of the car.

You left the car quickly, grabbing your purse and looking for your keys, while Steve was standing right behind you and kissing your neck. “Fuck-baby, hurry up. It’s cold”, Steve laughed into your neck, but didn’t stop kissing your skin, even while shivering. After finding the keys-“finally”-you opened the door, pulling Steve into the elevator where he quickly pressed you against the wall, not stopping kissing your neck.

“Smell so good”, he mumbled against your throat, sucking a hickey into your skin, leaving even more red marks behind when he kissed down to your cleavage, while he opened your jacket and pushed it down your shoulders. A quiet gasp escaped your lips when he gently hit into your skin. “Fuck-Steve-“, the elevator stopped and you pushed Steve out of it, grinning when he seemed surprised at your sudden strength.

Once again opening the door wasn’t as easy as hoped, especially not with the beefcake kissing your neck and pressing his hard dick against your ass, just grinding against you and whispering filthy stuff in your ear.

You even dropped the keys once, but when you bend down Steve even enjoyed it more than before, pressing himself even harder against you. “If you don’t open this door soon your neighbours will get a show, sweetheart”, he whispered impatiently, already opening the zipper of your pants and letting his hand slid into your pants.

His fingers slid into your dripping hole without resistance, just welcoming him like you belonged to him.

And maybe you did.

He moved his fingers into you, making it unbelievably hard for you to get the key into the door. With the way he was fingering you, hitting your sensitive spot Everytime and also rubbing your clit with his palm he nearly made you cum right there. In the hallway.

In the fucking hallway.

And it was so fucking hard not to moan his name out loud.

It was filthy. You felt filthy. Especially while listening to your own slick squelch with Steve’s finger fucking you. Your legs trembled, your forehead hitting the cold door, unintentionally you pressed back into Steve, feeling him grind his hard cock into your ass. “My filthy girl. You don’t even give a shit if someone walks into the hallway hm? I could just fuck you right here for everyone to see. Show them who you belong to. Show them what a slut for me you are”, when he curled his fingers you couldn’t stop the moan leaving your lips as a sudden orgasm rushed over you. “That’s it babygirl, so good for me”, he kissed below your ear before sucking at your earlobe.

Steve grinned into your throat when he felt your walls squeezing tightly around his fingers, sucking him right in wanting more, more and more…

Your hands were already shaking when you finally got the door open. Your legs like jelly.

Steve pulled out his hand from your pants, making you whine. Before you could react more, Steve pushed you into your apartment, already dropping his jacked and ripping his shirt over his head. His clothes dropped quickly to the floor, your followed, till you both were only in your underwear.

Once again he was pressing you against the wall, kissing you breathless. Not wanting-or not being able to-wait any longer you pulled Steve’s boxershorts down, enough to pull out his hard cock. He was already leaking enough for his boxers to be damp with his pre-cum. Moaning Steve rutted into your hand when you wrapped your fingers around him, not being able to fully close your first around him.

Fuck, he was huge. And you wanted all of it. You wanted him to split you in half. Use you like a toy. Fuck you so god you’d feel it next day.

Steve definitely couldn’t wait any longer either, putting his arm under your knee and lifting your leg, while he pushed your panties to the side letting you line up his tip with your entrance.

With just one hard thrust he was seated inside your tight channel, making both of you moan each other's names.

He was filling you so good. You were so, so full. He was stretching you like you’ve never been stretched before.

And Steve felt like you were trying to suck him right into your tight pussy. God, he had never felt so good before. So perfect for him.

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy was made for my cock, huh?”, he grinned against your cheek, before kissing it gently. His coming thrust was anything but gentle, hard and fast he was driving into you, making you moan with every movement of his hips. The sound of slapping skin and squelch from your pussy would probably make you blush if you wouldn’t be fucked this good.

In this position he was hitting your g-spot perfectly, making it unable for you to think about anything else than the feeling of his cock. Steve pulled your leg a bit higher, making your other foot only touch the floor on your tippy toes.

He was literally holding you up.

Your whole weight.

Just fucking into you.

You were like a fucktoy in his hands.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

If that itself wouldn’t bring you to your orgasm then definitely his hand that slid between your body’s and started circling your clit. Without further warning the white overwhelming pleasure rolled over you, your legs trembled and if it wasn’t for Steve you probably would’ve fallen. “Oh god-Steve-Captain”, you nearly sobbed, grabbing onto his hair and pulling him even closer. The second orgasm even better than the first one.

Feeling you pulsing around him and pulling at his hair made him nearly cum aswell-but he didn’t want for it to end so soon. “Yeah, that’s it sweetheart. Cum for your Captain”, he whispered, pulling you closer against him. He was still thrusting into you, but a bit slower. “That’s right baby. All for your Captain…bet Thor wouldn’t make you scream like that”, he mumbled possessively sucking another hickey right under your ear.

You weren’t really listening, but still nodding and chanting his name like it was your favorite song. Too overwhelmed with pleasure, you couldn’t really think of anything else than him. Just Steve. Steve and his big cock, still filling your hole. “Please, Steve..”, you kissed him on the lips again, but a whine interrupted it. It was your whine. Because Steve pulled out. “No please-“

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet”, he pulled you onto the white soft fluffy carpet in your living room. He always imagined fucking you on it, it’s just so soft and warm.

And he really couldn’t wait to do that.

Letting his boxers drop to the floor completely, he finally also took off your bra, preparing your breasts with kisses, sucking your hard nipples till you were too sensitive and pushed his head away. Then he did the same thing to the other one, while he listened to your soft pleading moans. His hand found your slip, ripping it right from your body and throwing it behind him.

A quiet gasp escaped your lips when you felt the cold air hit your most sensitive parts. Hearing this Steve chuckled, pressing his lips again to yours in a demanding kiss.

You couldn’t concentrate on anything besides him. He was everywhere. His hands explored your body, his fingers were once again pressing into your wet hole, while his other hand grabbed your wrists when you tried to hold onto his shoulders.

Steve pulled them over your head, pressing himself closer to you, caging you against his body. Skin to skin…so much warm skin. His breathing on your neck and against your ear and-fuck. He was everywhere. You felt drunk on him.

“Steve-“ “Shhh, shhh sweetheart. Just let me take care of you”, he whispered, bringing you quickly to another orgasm just with his skilled hands. He was still holding your wrists above your head, making it impossible for you to grab him or anything besides the soft material of your carpet. Grinning, Steve watched you for a moment.

You were pressing your body against him, arching your back to feel his chest against your skin, already coated with a thin layer of sweat. “My sweet girl…”, he kissed your neck again, taking his fingers from your hole and bringing them to your lips.

When you felt the tip of his fingers against your mouth, you wrapped your lips around the thick digits, licking your release off, swirling your tongue around his fingers like you’d do to his cock, if he’d let you.

But Steve had other plans.

With a quiet moan he pulled his fingers away, grabbing your cheeks and squeezing, till you opened your mouth looking up at him with big, curious eyes.

Spitting into your mouth he watched as his spit coated your lips and tongue, before shutting your mouth again. “Swallow”, you did as told, quickly opening your mouth again for more.

A moan slipped past Steve lips, while he repeated this action two more times, before kissing you hungrily. “Fuck, so perfect. Such a good girl”, he murmured against your lips, before sitting up and looking down at your body.

God, he could see you were completely out of your mind.

He had fucked you dumb.

So cockdrunk.

He’d love to just coat your body with his cum. Rub it into your skin…mark you as his. The hickeys on your body already showed his claim on you, but it wasn’t enough-yet he needed to cum in your tight pussy more. Fill you with his seed till you are dripping with it.

“Steve-please-”, you whined, feeling his tip glide between your folds, teasing you. Whining you tried to move your hips against him, but Steve only slapped your thigh gently. Warningly. “Baby, don’t do that or I won’t fuck you-“ “but Steve-please-Captain-I need it. I need your cock”, you sobbed, putting your legs around him and pulling him closer.

Not being able to wait himself Steve thrusted roughly into your pussy, not stopping before starting to move. Hard and fast. He watched as your mouth fell open. Your breast moved with every thrust, while the room was filled with the sound of your slapping skin. It smelled and sounded like sex in the apartment.

And it made Steve crazy. God, he’d never had such good sex. He had never fucked someone so good.

“You’re so perfect sweetheart”, he whispered, letting go of your hands and sitting back on his heels, grabbing your calves and putting them on his shoulders, while he once again started roughly pounding into you.

The change in position changed also the angle he was thrusting into you, hitting your spot with every move. Hitting it dead on. You’ve never been with someone who was able to find it with their fingers-definitely not with their cock, but Steve? It seemed like he didn’t need to look for it. He just knew.

Steve watched your breasts jiggle, not being able to quieten his own moans, especially when you tightened around him. He knew you were close. Again.

Fuck.

He’d love to know how many orgasms he could bring out of you at once-but not today.

“m close-Steve-close, so so close”, you whimpered, grabbing his hard. Up until now you had held them in the position Steve wanted them to be-but now he let you grab onto his arm. Your nails were pressing into his skin, leaving half moon marks behind, he could even see one of your nails break from the grip you had on him.

Steve started stimulating your clit with his fingers, making you moan loudly. “Baby, come for me-show your Captain how much you love his co-“, before he could finish his sentence he felt you squeeze incredibly tight around him, your release gushing out around his dick making a mess on his thighs,while you were arching your back and throwing your head behind. His name coming from your lips like a mantra.

Seeing you squirt on his dick was enough to throw him over the edge. Blinding pleasure rolled over him, while he filled you with his cum. You could feel him twitch between your warm walls, coating you with his seed.

He kissed your panting lips softly, before pulling his slowly softening dick out of your sensitive pussy. He watched your mixed releases slowly leak out of your gaping and throbbing cunt. He couldn’t stop himself from scooping it up with his fingers and pressing it back into your hole, enjoying the filthy squelching sound, fingering you for a bit more.

You whined, pressing your legs together, but your muscles were useless. After being fucked like that you couldn’t do anything besides just take whatever he wanted to give you-but he pulled his digits out of you, pressing them instead to your lips to clean the mess up. You sucked at his fingers lazily, yet still completely hungry for his and your taste.

“Fuck, such a filthy girl”, he whispered, slipping his fingers one more time in your hole and feeding you more of his release, before lying besides you and pressing his lips to yours, in a gentle kiss. You cling to his warm body, putting your arms and legs around him.

Steve slowly pulled away from the much gentler kiss than any of the kisses before, holding you close and slowly standing up with you. If your legs wouldn’t feel this numb you’d probably walk alone but…right now you just wanted to be carried by Steve.

Laying you down on your bed Steve quickly brought a washcloth and cleaned you two up, before laying down next to you.

You immediately cuddled into his side, a smile creeping onto your lips. Your heart fluttered when his arm wrapped around you. It finally happened. You finally went further than just friendship. And you were so incredibly happy about it. Your whole chest and stomach was filled with butterflies.

He looked at the ceiling for a moment, feeling completely relaxed and also slowly becoming tired. “That was…so good”, he mumbled, making you slowly lift your head from his chest and look at him.

That was so good?

That was so good.

That’s what you tell your hook up-

Did Steve-

Didn’t it all mean anything to him?

“Steve, I didn’t mean for it to be-Steve?” gently shaking his shoulder you noticed he was asleep.

He just fell asleep.

No talking, no…nothing…just…

Fuck.

You felt tears fill your eyes.

Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. You weren’t meant to be with Steve and that’s…so not fine. But you’d be fine. You always were. You always are.

Enjoying the last moments with Steve you put your head back on his chest, listening to his gentle heartbeat. Even though your own was breaking.

You woke up when the sun warmed your skin, sweetly telling you it was time to wake up. You felt an arch in your whole body, a good one. That one after having sex the night before and-

Fuck.

Steve.

You opened your eyes but he wasn’t in your bed.

Oh god. Did he really leave? Like a fucking-

Then you heard his voice from the bathroom, talking to someone on the phone. You didn’t want to, but you listened anyway.

“-No Buck you don’t get it….no…I mean yes-but it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have-“

You just blended the rest of his words out.

It was a mistake.

A mistake.

You were a mistake to him.

Something inside you broke.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

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[p-antomime]

KIKIIIII <3<3 IT'S NANAMINNNN DAY! OUR BELOVED MAN, the best man among all of them! may i ask you to tell me something with nanamin and his gf trying to cheer him up on his bday??? like hmmm lingeries maybe? no pressure tho <3 love you and this man too

YESSSSS NANAMIN DAY ! our beloved wise intelligent nice pretty gorgeous handsome stunning tall blonde man, I'd d!e for him :((

i've been wanting to write something for his bday so I'm glad you came up with this ask my darling <3

just think about: Nanami having to sort some things out on his birthday at Jujutsu Tech because, after all, besides being a sorcerer he is also a teacher and Gojo making a point of trying to sing Happy Birthday to him in a room with Itadori, Nobara and Megumi, but Nanami getting too busy writing reports for his superiors to make it to their little party, so busy that by the time the clock struck 6pm he was ready to leave since, of all things, Kento Nanami doesn't work overtime.

he got home SO tired, and you were taking a shower, so he just threw himself on the bed with no desire to celebrate although, deep inside, he was thankful that everyone he loves remembered his birthday.

nanami would be so tired that he would barely pay attention to when you slowly came out of the bathroom with a robe covering your body and the set of lingerie you bought yesterday after passing by a store with him and he commented on how beautiful you would look wearing it. it was a small gift, but a meaningful one, and nanami kento doesn't care much for expensive gifts, besides: there is NOTHING better in the world for him than to see you showing yourself to him, it would be a lie if someone said that nanami doesn't spend 60% of his time fantasizing about you, your body, your shoulders, your tits, your neck, your angelic face, your waist, your hips, your legs, your thighs...

"nanamin?" you called out to him and he propped himself up on elbows, his eyes taking less than seconds to see what was adorning your body and his cheeks almost turning red as a smile appeared on his lips, "should I say 'happy birthday' now?"

a chuckle would escape him and you stepped forward immediately letting his hands caress your shoulders, down your arms, your wrists and sliding around your waist to pull you to sit on his lap, but one of your hands pushed him back before he could finish that and nanami looked at you confused.

"You're my birthday boy, so it's only fair that I make you happy before you do me, right?" you got down on knees in front of his body, luckily nanami's legs were already spread wide and it was very easy for you to start groping his dick under his pants.

you could almost feel his veins already throbbing, begging you to take it in your mouth and let him fuck your throat the way you knew nanami loved it, but wouldn't allow himself to admit out loud. you could already tell that his underwear must have a wet spot on it caused by his pre-cum.

"i thought my gift would be to touch you," nanami said watching you unbuckle his belt and finally get his hard cock free.

"mhm, it is, but first I need to make sure that you don't just rip off my lingerie 'n pound yourself deep inside me, Kento," you replied massaging his dick with both hands and leaving a little kiss on the swollen tip.

you opened your mouth to let it in and immediately hollowed your cheeks against his shaft, watching his head fall back in pleasure and hearing a gasping moan escape from deep in his throat, his hips ready to push up against your mouth.

and that's exactly what they did. one quick thrust, nanami felt himself in heaven as his fingers dug a little deeper into the soft skin of the back of your neck. another thrust, nanami pulled in a little more air and told you to rest your hands on his thighs. another thrust, by this point you were already trying to relax your jaw to let him fuck your mouth as if it were your pussy. and a series of thrusts that ended with your eyes watering and his cock throbbing more and more against your warm, soft, wet tongue. by this time, nanami was already deliberately rocking hips upward while your face was still and your jaw was slowly starting to hurt, but more than that: your pussy was already soaking wet, it was going to be so easy for him to simply manhandle your body and pull you to sit on his cock now completely wet with saliva and precum.

by the time he came, you barely had time to pull away or taste his salty cum, nanami was already pouring every last drop straight down your throat and, after making sure he had made you swallow it all, pulling you up to kiss you needily and placing you sitting on his cock; the panties of your lingerie being pulled aside was already enough for your entrance to be exposed, ready for use.

"wanna ride me as a birthday present, princess?", nanami asked, already lying down and feeling you roll over against the boner that was beginning to form again.

"a riding is the best present, isn't it?", you replied.

he knew that this present was the best after a stressful day, you were better than cakes or expensive gifts at the end of the day.

— jujutsu kaisen masterlist.