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magicpotatothoughts · 1 month

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TGCF reread new finds #1

Xie Lian actively and consciously knows that he is attracted to HC the MOMENT THEY MEET in the Ox Cart. Like it’s not just blank gay panic, he knows.

His beauty was deadly like a sword, sharp and mesmerising. Xie Lian only met his eyes for a moment, then lowered his eyes in defeat.

MATE, normally wouldn’t you continue to be mesmerised and can’t peel your eyes away? That is, UNLESS YOURE WHIPPED. XL knows that SL's looks affect him to this degree. Defeat is the key word here.

Also

The distance between them had closed too fast. he suddenly didn't know what to do[...]Xie Lian blanked on the spot. He watched as the tall and slender youth walked away with his giant bag of junk as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and it made him mutter inwardly, Forgive my sins.

Making a rich young lad carry your things? Making him sleep in your crappy temple? That doesn't warrant the weighty thought? FORGIVE WHAT SINS Xie Lian??!!!

Many village girls saw (HC) and blushed [...] Xie Lian didn't know what they were going to ask, but felt instinctively that it must be stopped at once, and cried, "No!"

Jealous jealous boi! XL WAS POSSESSIVE after ONE night spent together at Puqi Shrine. Didn’t XL just say to SL that he will have no problem in the love department because girls will throw themselves at him? Yo, why are you cock-blocking? Everyone says HC is insane, no XL is equally insane for the other!

Also, when HC revealed that it's his real skin after the Banyue arc, XL instinctively poked him. Then

He looked at his own finger then hid it away, betraying nothing of his thoughts.

What thoughts XL ?!! Explain yourself right now!

Jumping back to OX CART scene, Xie Lian's character development was foreshadowed when they were talking about the gifting of ghost ashes.

Book 1: Xie Lian sighed. "It certainly is painful to think about, to have given everything for love and lose everything in return."

This is what Xie Lian is most afraid of! Like even thinking back to Xie Lian pushing Feng Xin away in Book 4, he definitely operated under that mindset. Love is a risk, it's something to be feared. Even now 800+ years later, he still feels that way and doesn't allow himself to get close to anyone. It just hits so much harder thinking that he operated under that for so many centuries.

Then Hua Cheng says

"What there to be afraid of? If it were me, I'd have no regrets giving away my ashes"

Which I think really changed the way that Xie Lian thought about love. Book 5 Xie Lian completely operates with Love is empowering and isn't something to be afraid of.

TGCF isn't about XL realising his feelings, literally from Book 1 it's about him wondering if it's worthwhile to act on them.

Three things, is this person worth losing cultivation over for?

He needs the reassurance that this person must reciprocate his feelings.

Then HC changed his perspective on love from FEAR -> EMPOWERMENT.

XL is soooo self-aware (unlike SQQ from SVSSS and WWX from MDZS), he's an unreliable narrator in the way that he doesn't reveal everything to the reader, especially his own feelings until he was absolutely sure that there really was both a physical and romantic attraction. I wanted to make this post to dispel the assumption for XL it was easy to forego 800+ years of cultivation. It was not? He ABSOLUTELY thought about it carefully.

#honestly without the thousand caves reveal these two gays would still be 👉👈🥺 at each other #I was inspired by grimbravado's tumblr #tgcf #mxtx #heaven official's blessing #also these are my own perspectives #take it with a grain of salt #hualian #hua cheng #tian guan ci fu #xie lian #feng xin #fenglian #TGCF meta

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arminsumi · 7 months

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🔞 playtime w enemy!gojo

g. satoru — さとる

NOTE: i think abt this idea all the time n i just thought id gift u all a piece of mean nasty enemy gojo lusting for u

WARNINGS — ignore errors pls, smut, he's mean he's a jerk but he kinda feels for u, blood mentions, fighting, m*sturbation, he jerkin it to a pic he snapped of ur defeated face 🫠 sexual tension, impact play (slapping n spanking), dirty talk, namecalling (sl*t, wh*re, b*tch, freak) and nicknames (bunny, sweetheart, baby), dirty talk, unprotected sex, taboo sex (fucking ur enemy) creampie, it's nasty im ngl, god kink thing??? he rlly cums n goes 🧍‍♀️, hairpulling

just... just enemy!gojo...

enemy!gojo kissing you like he's trying to kill you. you can feel this murderous rage on his lips after you fuck up his heroic plans.

and enemy!gojo fighting you like he's trying to get in your pants 🥴 he hates you so much, but let's be real he's in fucking denial and needs you so bad. after fights, he's cooped up in his bedroom jerking off to the memory of all those positions he put you in. ("ooh, well aren't you flexible?" he teases when he literally puts you into a full-nelson. "hey, if this whole villain business fails for you then you can be my personal pornstar.")

his whole body feels like it's on fire when you're throwing fists with him. he shakes not from exhaustion or pain but just pure sexual desire. he gets so upclose and personal with you, you're sure it's on purpose. when you're limp and defeated, he takes a victory picture :( grabs your jaw and says "smile for the camera! aw, pretty lil' loser. you're so photogenic!" and you know when he gets home, he's gonna jerk off to that.

he can barely take your martial arts seriously, because you're so fucking tiny and weak in comparison to him. enemy!gojo likes to remind you of that, when he has you on your knees with your nose dribbling blood.

"aw, sweetheart, you're so fucking weak it's kinda turning me on."

he's got a fistfull of your hair, forcing your head to tilt back so violently yet when you look up at him, you can't help but feel this raw sexual tension and primal need to kiss him and worship him.

"f—fuck you, gojo — y-you're a freak. you think you're god... but you're a monstrous freak."

he's looking at you. and you're not sure if that's a murderous look or a pure lustful look — is he gonna kill you or fuck you? in his mind, though, the idea of killing you long faded away; you're his favorite enemy. what would he do without you? fighting with you is just the best, he gets to joke and tease and flirt and pester you and see you enjoying it wholeheartedly.

"bunny, look how cute you are, bleeding for me."

when you try spit your blood at him to retaliate, he's considering pulling his zipper down and stuffing your stupid mouth full of his cock. now that would put him on a power trip like nothing else.

then imagine the day this needy, desperate man actually snaps. and you snap. and the both of you fuck like bunnies. panting and feral. he couldn't say no when you started begging on your bruised knees for him to just fuck you already, just split you open on his cock.

his thrusts are primal. he's mocking you, voice so venemously attractive.

"wh—what would your friends think now, huh? think they'd still trust you knowing how willingly you spread your fuckin' legs for me? you damn slut. 'seen the way you look at me, gets me hot every time. you don't have any fucking idea what you do to me, do you? ha—ahhh that's so good... that's so fucking good..." his voice is usually so composed even when fighting, but when he's balls deep fucking up your guts so passionately then his voice becomes strained.

and he loves hearing your cute dirty talk, but you've got such a small voice he thinks it's cutely pathetic.

"f-fuck, g-g—gooojo ~ ! fuck me like you hate me."

he chuckles, "oh, baby. i don't have to fake it. i hate you so — fucking — much — ahhh — damn bitch, making my life so hard the least y-you could do is let me have this pussy once a week."

"a-anything for you."

his heart flutters. why? you're his enemy he reminds himself and makes his thrusts meaner and harder until you can't form a coherent thought. he relishes in your screaming moans, and there's no end to the teasing. as soon as he notices something he comments on it.

"ooh, look at that little pussy cream for me. who's it creaming for? who? that's fucking right, me. yeah stay like that and take my cock."

"o—h my god, nnn ~ !" you squeal, feeling almost too good with your threatening orgasm.

"ah-ah, there's no god but me, baby. i'm the one making this pussy freak out. ooh... think you're right, i do have a god complex. why don't you indulge in it? yeah? c'mon, baby i'm your god."

"y—you're m-my g–god, satoruuuh ~ ! ow!"

he plants a hard slap to your face. you're no stranger to his mean slaps, in fact you've joked to yourself about being his favorite bitch to slap. but that one in particular hurt, and you loved it.

"don't say my fucking name like we're friends, you freak. f—fuck... you like that, don't you? yeah? little freaky bitch likes getting slapped? mmm that's cute. kinky litttle fucking whore, let's see how hard this pathetic pussy can cum."

he pumps his cock into you at such a mean angle that you completely lose yourself, babbling obscenities and trembling in his strong hold. you couldn't free yourself from his grip even if you wanted to; he's the strongest, after all.

you get a good idea of how strong he is when you fight and sneak off to fuck.

the way he presses down on your back, the way he bullies his cockhead so deep that it feels like he's in your tummy, the way he pulls both your arms back with a rough tug like you're a ragdoll — just his fleshlight that he can move on his cock himself however he likes because he's so much bigger than you.

"gonna cum, my little slut gonna take it? yeah? good. that's what i like to fucking hear — oh fuck — ahhhah cumming — hah fuck that's good — that's — mmm — that's my fuckin' girl."

he plants rough spanks to your ass, groaning so deeply and holding you so close against his body that you feel like you're one with him.

"ooh, fuck..." he pulls out hastily, zipping himself up. forehead and abs beading with sweat. "thanks, love playtime with you. now get the fuck out of my sight." he sounds so sweet and venomous that you can't tell if he's joking, but then you remember a cold hard fact;

gojo satoru is your enemy.

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north-noire · 1 month

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My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

#yeah in this au my michael and william actually have a decent father-son relationship even after the bite. even after all that will's done.#michael just... isn't aware of what his dad did yet for the meantime.#ik william isn't a great father at ALL in canon but let me WRITE my AU the way i want okay?#hidden hands au #fnaf au #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf fanart #michael afton #mike afton #fnaf michael afton #fnaf mike afton #long post #my art

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ohjoelmiller · 1 year

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joel miller fic recs vol. 2 ✯

⇾ 18+ minors dni, read at your own risk! ⇽

happy reading and enjoy! thank u writers we ❥ u!

previous ⇾ vol. 1

series ✰

come home — by @imtryingmybeskar

the hawk and the canary — by @dino-fart

confused warmth — by @rise-my-angel

daughter’s best friend — by @coolgrl111

texas sun — by @from-the-clouds

my bestfriend — by @mannaima

mrs. miller — by @fantasyqueen502

the stable girl — by @guess-my-next-obsession

fallacy: reject me, i get it— by @cherry-clafoutis

the beginning of us — by @companionjones

one-shots ☆

i’m right here — by @orangevtae

morning, darlin’ — by @mandoalorian

dinner date — by @juletheghoul

running free — by @aphroditesmoon

lucky & pt.2 — by cherry-clafoutis

not a thing — by @cevansgoatee

for you, anything — by @mellowsaturns

say you love me — by @thot-of-khonshu

i won’t let go — by @youlightmeupfinn

untitled — by @forever-rogue

fears — by @nonexistent-introvert

blushing — by @talaok

warmth — by youlightmeupfinn

what comes after — by @jobean12-blog

gift (giving) — by @inklore

maybe now — by @supernaturalgirl20

tricks of the trade — by @mypoisonedvine

connected together — by @flightlessangelwings

these burdens we carry — by @thedgeoftheuniverse

if he wanted to — by @sl-ut

in the dead of night — by @egcdeath

love in the time of cordyceps — by @sameheart-sameblood

from eden — by @nexusnyx

religion's in your lips — by @millersdjarin

safe and sound — by @disturbedbeautywrites

it's chemical that make me cling to you — by @cockslutpadalecki

perilous companion — by rise-my-angel

short days, long nights — by @frannyzooey

us against the world — by @ynscrazylife

after the end of the world — by @narcosfanficworld-blog

gone soft — by @blathannabeaga

weakness — by @cevansgoatee

the price of a life — by @criticallyacclaimedstranger

a way to quiet the mind — by @inlovewithquestionablecharacters

seeing joel again — by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

late spring — by @heartpascal

save a horse, ride a cowboy — by @mandoalorian

the gold — by heartpascal

i never stopped loving you — by @musings-of-a-rose

never enough — by @joels6string

mini pedro pascal fic rec list ✫

the seat filler — by @whiskeyncoke-redux

(series) wildest dreams — by @i-magines

sunflower — by @writersblog20

strawberries & champagne — by youlightmeupfinn

papi — by @missbabyjay

#fic rec lists #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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jeon-ify · 3 months

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insecure - mingi

mdni. 18+

warnings: semipublic sex, reader is insecure, swearing, semi car sex, mirror sex, just smut tbh

the pores on your face aren’t sitting right. every time you put makeup on, your pores just show through your primer, through the foundation and past the concealer and setting powder.

this was your last straw.

tonight, mingi was taking you out to his favorite restaurant to celebrate your 3rd anniversary as a couple, and boy was he overdressed.

he had his black suit on with a dark red handkerchief, and a pin with your initial on it— something he’ll cherish forever, gifted from his best friend yunho.

“mingi, i’m not going. i look and feel like shit. can we just go another day?” you’re on the verge of tears. you didn’t like the way the dress looked on you, your makeup wasn’t looking good at all, your hair felt flat and icky.

mingi’s head turned so fast, you could’ve sworn he broke his neck. “babes, what’s wrong? you look beautiful to me. that’s all that matters, hm? why do you feel like shit?” he asks, holding your arms in his hands, rubbing circles on your forearms.

“cus, bro, look at my hair and my fucking dress and my fucking skin is so ugly. no matter how much primer or skincare or shit i put on my face it’s still ugly. so stop telling me i look beautiful cus you’re lying to the both of us.”

you argue in a way that makes mingi’s breath hitch, at shock from the way you start to disrespect and insult yourself. he never heard you talk about yourself like this since the day you met him, what made you so insecure all of the sudden?

his hand moves its way up to your throat, squeezing at the sides, putting pressure on your soft spots as you sigh.

“i have never heard you speak like that about yourself a day in my life, and i never wanna hear you talk like that again. am i clear?” he scolds you, holding your jaw and tilting your head up so he gets a clear view of your makeup.

“you look so fucking good right now, y/n. i’ve been holding myself back from ripping that dress off you and fucking up all that makeup on your pretty face. put those red heels on, spray your burberry perfume and don’t put any panties on. understand?”

you put on his favorites all in under one minute. you finish touching up your makeup, sliding your panties off and putting on the red heels mingi left by the dresser for you to wear as he waits downstairs. you spray burberry her, a perfume mingi loved on you, and head downstairs.

mingi is scrolling through his phone for a while before watching you walk down the stairs. you feel his eyes on your braless chest, making your heart and stomach flutter.

“we don’t even have to go to dinner tonight, i could just fuck you in that dress and call it a night, to be honest.”

he confesses. you playfully slap his shoulder, walking behind him as he locks the door to your shared home. you walk behind him as he opens your side of the door, closing after you. his car smelled so fucking good. it had a clean and musky scent to it, much like how mingi smelled when he walked out of a fresh shower.

he turns on the radio to mask the tension in the car after the scene that just took place in your room. you remember that you’re not wearing any panties, and that if mingi touched you right now, you could be so quick to ruining his leather seats. he liked to touch you while he was driving, as he’s a very touchy person. as you’re holding his hand, his thumb presses into your palm, pulling out a gasp from your throat. his gaze on the road darkens, mingi getting hard just from the sounds you’re making. his hand moves to your thigh, rubbing circles and inching closer to your bare heat. his fingers hide under your dress, as his middle finger rubs slow circles on your clit.

“m-mings, pay attention to the road.” you moan, your false lashes fluttering as you try to keep your eyes open. you hold his wrist as you try to pull him away from rubbing too hard on the spot.

his middle finger enters your hole, thrusting slowly. he stops at a red light as he puts the car in park to lean over to place one hand on your mouth and fuck you with his other hand. he fingers your pussy as fast as he can. when you’re pulsing and clenching around his digits, the light turns green, and mingi pulls his fingers away, using one hand to steer, and placing the other hand in your mouth, cleaning off your juices and precum from his fingers.

as you arrive to the restaurant, mingi lets you out of his car, holding your hand and walking in with you. the place is almost like a museum, statues and portraits fill the walls as the music plays through the soft speakers.

“go to the bathroom, i’ll follow you in 5.” he looks around, waiting for you to start.

“why? we just got here.” you respond as you stand up, mingi looking into your eyes, not saying a word. you don’t say anything else, walking towards the bathroom. you know exactly what he wants.

you get into the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror, trying to prepare yourself for what’s about to happen, thinking of ways you can avoid your makeup messing up.

the door flies open as mingi walks in, immediately grabbing at your hair and bending you over the counter. he uses his free hand to pull your dress down to expose your chest. your nipples come in contact with the cold marble as you moan from the contact. mingi humps onto your ass as your body jolts forward. he pulls your head up from your hair, making you look at the view in the mirror.

“now, what were you telling me when we were at home and you said i was lying to you? calling me a liar, baby?”

he bends down so your back is against his chest, his lips in contact with your ear as he kisses your jaw, waiting for your response.

“p-please-“ you moan. he pushes against you, feeling how painfully hard he is as he presses against your ass. when he doesn’t get the response he needs, he lands a sharp slap on your cheek.

“asked you a fuckin’ question. do you think i’m a liar? do you think i would ever lie to you? are you doubting how much i love you? lift your dress up and watch how i fuck you.”

“babe, someone could walk in any m-“ you try, but this doesn’t stop him. you lift up your dress and grind against him. and instead, he pulls his cock out and rubs it against your folds.

“let them. let them watch how i’m fucking my beautiful wife. my pretty baby. this pussy belongs to me, i’ll give you my children. gonna fuck all of my cum into you and make everyone watch how fucking sexy you look while taking me and fucking you dumb.”

he pushes his dick into you, starting at a rough pace. your body jolts and quivers as he makes you watch the way your breasts bounce with every thrust he gives you. you grasp onto the edges of the sinks next to you, trying to find balance in the way mingi is fucking you senseless. he hits a spot that makes you squirt, your juices dripping onto the tile beneath you.

“look how pretty you are. my fuckin’ angel. prettiest woman i’ve ever seen. you have it all, baby. makes me cum on sight, y/n. i love you— fuck, i love you. love you so much. made for me, doll. say it. wanna hear you say you’re beautiful.”

he groans as his thrusts come to a halt. you start to whine and cry out for mingi to slow down, but he only gets harder the more you beg.

“i ca-n’t take it mings, i’m fucking cumming, play with my clit, daddy. make me cum,” you cry. mingi complies the fastest he’s ever complied, feeling you clench down onto his cock as if he were gonna leave at any given moment.

“say you’re pretty while you’re cumming on my dick, wanna watch you.”

you feel like your legs are gonna fall off when you try to hold yourself together. your pussy starts to drip mingi’s cum, as yours follows suit.

“i’m be- fuck mingi! i’m beautiful! i’m cumming again, daddy, stay in me.” you cry. something about mingi watching you cry and beg just to prove a point makes your head spin and your cunt throb.

“fuck, i feel it, there you go, gorgeous. so pretty when you cum. imagine how pretty you’d be carrying our children.”

head spinning

taglist: @bbae98 @haohaoshoe @k-hotchoisan @stolasisyourparent @atinytiny @isiloiale @kpophosblog @nakiiko @certifiedmoa @aaniag @wonusbbg @yunnieo @chosoteta 🤍

#kpop smut #kpop #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez x reader #mingi x y/n #mingi ateez #mingi fluff #ateez mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi icons #mingi #ateez scenarios

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kithtaehyung · 11 months

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busted (3tan) (m) | myg

title: busted pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) , jungkook x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: when things go a bit south at your house party, decisions between you and yoongi have to be made. note: well. here we are, y’all. it’s been quite a long time, but we are back to regularly scheduled programming :’)) thank you to everyone that has supported and encouraged me throughout this whole process – and series, for that matter. i couldn’t have done this without y’all and the next part is already in the works. also i cried a lot writing this lol have fun! note 2: happy birthday, hedgehog! and to colourless and nicki and whoever else had birthdays recently, consider this my gift to y’all! warnings: language, the amount of content itself fck i’m so sorry, parties, alcohol consumption, tense situations, shoving, abandonment mentions (parental), obligatory yoongi on the phone, ch*king, head/hair pulling, reader has a pain kink and it shows oops, angst, overthinking :((, penetrative s*x, chains but come on now, protective s*x, cowgirl, or*l (m/f rec), edg*ng a ha ha, thro*tf*cking, kissing :’))), kissing D:, did i say angst?, bro😵‍💫, but also bro😭, jungkook gets a warning too, yoongi’s jeans are as ripped as he is heyo, hitting from the b b back, yoongi king of consent sheesh, multiple org*sms, spitting lmfao, sl*t/wh*re mentions, yoongi jfc lol, the aftercare y’all i–😭, the ending🧍 drop date: june 9th, 2023, 7:17pm est word count: 18.8k gdi

Here goes nothing and everything.

It was fifteen years ago when you first met Jungkook. When the sidewalks in your neighborhood were fewer and the occupancy in your house was higher.

A tiny boy, he was immediately ready to stay by your side, despite the limited amount of time he got to hang around before his parents corralled his energy back inside their car.

Later on, he would tell you that had something to do with them not wanting him influenced by your brother and his group. But you didn’t know that at the time.

Ever since the two of you met, you became the best of friends. And as you grew older, it was only natural that feelings bloomed with everything else.

In the midst of an ever changing garden, you found something that never wavered, vibrant in color and immovable at its root.

Which was strange. You’d never compared people to flora before him.

But, because of Jungkook, you couldn’t help but see everyone as such—lilies, buttercups, the ones that trap to survive.

And he was the prettiest, strongest flower of them all.

There was rain. There were storms. But with them came hope, and a pair of cheap rings that the two of you bought nestled nicely in boxes, waiting to be unearthed when you were ready.

However.

What also came was a lesson. One that you would learn again when two of every seat remained unused in your household.

A lesson that people are more like seasons than flowers.

They change with or without you.

And they pass by.

“We can go somewhere quieter if you want,” Jungkook offers. And you know he’s going to suggest your room before he even utters the words.

But of course he adds a small, “If I’m allowed in there anymore.”

When he laughs, your smile is as slow as your head shake, a few memories of old tasting bittersweet on your tongue. “We can.”

“Okay.”

When you make your way to your room, you hear the thumps of music and rhythms of conversation—both casual and loud—echoing throughout the house. Some people are sharing laughs, others are scooting just a bit closer, and a lucky one is cackling before demanding that everyone hand over their money.

All of them oblivious to the fact that you’re about to rip off a piece of your heart.

Well. That may not be the case. But based on the conversation that you had with Jungkook before your interview, this wasn’t going to be an easy one in the slightest—not for him, nor for you.

But if he’s gonna keep pushing forward, this is a stop you need to put up regardless.

During a party isn’t what you had in mind, though. Much less one in your own house.

You don’t know if anyone sees you open your door for Jungkook to pass through, or if they notice the slump of your mood, but you figure no one will care anyways.

Until you see someone out of the corner of your peripheral.

And the skip of your heart tells you who it is.

Occupying one of the hallways a ways away, you can tell he’s very aware of you despite being in the middle of a chatty group.

But what’s on his mind? Is he worried? Is he gonna ask what this is about?

Damn it. You’re just gonna have to tell him later. You can’t exactly do anything now.

A voice peeps from behind your tense shoulders,

“You okay?”

Fuck.

Turning, you nod to the boy in your room before shutting your door, giving one more look to the man whose last text you couldn’t read.

And the way he stares makes you wanna bolt from everyone entirely.

When your door clicks shut, you slowly swivel, only the bass of your brother’s music pushing the walls in closer.

Jungkook’s doing exactly what you knew he’d do, wandering around your room and either leaning in to observe, or lightly touching things that he remembers.

The soft puff of a laugh snaps you into focus. “I can’t believe you still have all his medals up.”

Ah. He even remembers the way you have all your brother’s trophies and achievements displayed—all because you liked seeing them shine, and he didn’t want them in his room.

Sweeping your gaze along two of your walls, you let out a tiny sound of amusement while agreeing, “I can. Too lazy to take them down.”

“I can do it,” he immediately responds. “If you need me to.”

If it had been five years ago, you would’ve been enamored that he even offered.

But five years ago is when he shattered any hopes you had for the two of you, so you turn him down yet again. “It’s okay.”

“You sure?”

“We’re here to talk, not decorate, Jungkook.”

He stares before nodding in dejection, eyes finding something other than you. “It’s still weird to hear you say my name.”

It’s weird to say it.

But you can’t let him know you agree, so the sound you make is half-cautious and weakly lighthearted. “You think so?”

“Ah, yeah.” He flashes a smile that still squeezes air from your lungs. “I’d gotten too used to all the names you had for me.”

“Oh, god.”

“But I guess someone else gets to hear them now.”

Goddamn it. He’s not gonna give up, just like he said right before your interview.

“Who are you seeing?”

“Kook…”

“I wanna know.”

“Why?”

He walks over to your nightstand, picking up a picture of you and your friends from years back.

And your heart pangs at how big his back has become.

Without turning, Jungkook lifts his head to stare at your ceiling. And if he’s wondering whether the glow stars he stuck all over it are still there or not, you don’t know if you’d admit that you never took them down.

“So that I’d know if I still have a chance.”

“You already had yours,” you whisper. “Remember?”

And when you look up, he’s already staring at you with regret.

Memories start to come back, but you shove them away with force, trying to empty your sinking boat with a teaspoon.

Every time he had walked back from school with you, every time he would make you laugh when you felt alone, every time he stayed at your place when your brother had to be out—all of them competed with each other to punch you in the gut and push you to your knees.

“I do,” is all he says before softly placing the frame on your bed. “I fucked that up, didn’t I.”

The times he said he’d be there when you needed him, the times he said it was gonna be okay when you struggled with your seemingly deepest darkest secrets.

All the times you knew you’d have a long future with him.

“You did.”

Everything leading up to the time he said you should break up before you left for university.

Right before you were going to tell him you loved him.

Your heart hasn’t beat in awhile, but you don’t notice until Jungkook starts walking towards your planted feet. Was he really so far away? How did he cover the distance between so fast?

With a sigh occupying your chest, you muse that he looks so different, but also not different at all.

And just like the time you saw him downtown, your brain doesn’t know how to separate the Jungkook you knew from the one you see in front of you.

Because they are still the same.

You don’t budge as he stands resolute, inches away but encasing you in his familiar presence. When his hand comes up to your face, he almost touches—but the slight hesitation has you holding your breath before he surrenders his hand at his side.

“I was an idiot,” he admits, throat seemingly small and making yours the same size. “I never should’ve… I can’t believe I…”

You watch as he flips his head up, and you hate how you know exactly what he’s trying to hide.

But your soul still remembers the wound it was dealt. So while you don’t want him feeling this way, you’re perfectly okay to fight back.

He doesn’t get to cry when he’s the reason for all those tears.

“And yet you did,” you remind him, proud of how stable your voice leaves lips that used to seek his. “And you left me so fucking confused.”

“I know.”

“Do you really?”

He flickers regretful eyes your way, giving you all the room to talk.

And you’re going to.

“Do you actually know, Kook? How fucked up that made me feel right before going where I knew nobody. No one.”

His nostrils flare while eyebrows flinch.

You expel a tough breath, everything that happened before bubbling up to the surface. The nights you spent wondering what happened, the days you spent feeling unwanted, the times you felt so fucking alone.

“Is it true that you even loved me?”

“Yes,” he finally shatters, face contorting and eyes welling at their rims. “Of course I did.”

Did.

“I still do.”

Liar.

“I thought I was the only one.” You search his eyes, hating how you would comfort him in an instant if this were any other circumstance. Hating, hating, loathing that this is how you find out your love wasn’t unrequited. “Why did you push me away?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean to…” He turns, unable to handle the loud silence streaming from your bones. Voice shaken, he flounders, “I don’t know. I’ve—”

When he pauses, it’s to keep his lips from shaking. You just know it.

“I’ve regretted it every day since.”

“Bullshit.”

“I have!”

“Really. So all those texts you never sent were full of regret, too, huh?”

“No, I—”

“All those calls you never made.”

“I wanted to call!”

“You wanted nothing to do with me!”

“No! That’s not true—”

“Liar!”

He digs palms into the soaking divots of his face, tense at all angles and making you so, so angry that this is what the both of you have come to.

“I’m not lying!”

“You are!”

You thought it would feel better seeing him cry.

But it’s not, it’s not, it’s not. You hate this.

Because Jungkook made sure your tears were short-lived. Made sure to chase them away every single time—

There’s a rapid twist of your locked doorknob before you hear a shout,

“What the hell’s going on in there!”

Shit, your brother. Were you both yelling?

…Were you both that loud?

“We’re fine!” you shout back, embarrassed that your fight somehow managed to outperform the aux. “It’s okay.”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

“You better be serious—”

“Promise!” You look toward the shouts. “We’re okay.”

“…Okay.”

And then it’s completely silent.

But you know he hasn’t left.

Fuck, he can’t hear the rest of this. He shouldn’t have heard any of it in the first place, and you can feel the heat of his questions coming later tonight.

Which, you are fine answering when it’s just the two of you. But you cannot have anyone hovering right now so you go to open the door and tell him off,

“Dude, I said I’m—”

Oh, fuck.

Yoongi’s right there with him.

And your heart fucking lurches.

Fuck fuck fuck they both see your tears and you’re getting moved aside before you know it now there’s—

“The fuck are you doing making them cry?”

“Wait, it’s not like th—”

“You come into our house after years—”

“Stop!”

“And pull some shit like this?”

Alarmed, you squeeze yourself between him and a very wide-eyed Jungkook, having to wrestle an angry wrist off a captured bicep. “Seriously, relax!”

You and your brother have a thousand differences.

But one thing you two have in common?

He’s just as stubborn as you are.

A strong swipe moves you back so fast that your feet can’t keep up, and you find yourself stumbling until firm hands and familiar cologne keep you upright, voices springing up all at once.

“I’m not—”

“Hey—!”

“The fuck—”

“What’s wrong with you?” you question, commanding attention and snagging both your brother’s and Jungkook’s stares.

Barely even caring if they see where you are and who’s holding you.

Because this is all stupid. It’s not fucking high school and you aren’t some kid that needs their useless, shitty, good-for-nothing parents to stand up for them.

Resisting Yoongi’s grip until he lets go, you stalk up to rip your brother’s hand off your ex’s arm, voice darkened and sharp, “Get out.”

Breath hard, the reply you get is directed more at Jungkook than your own pinched brows,

“Why should I.”

“Cus it’s fine,” you shoot out, sparing a glance at Yoongi and regretting it immediately.

Because he’s not looking at you. He probably wasn’t ever looking at you.

No. Based on that look alone, he’s been eyeing Jungkook with an energy that sends chills straight through your veins.

It’s so unmoving, so infernal that your throat dries, forcing you to swallow before laying more reassurance on three pairs of tense shoulders. “It’s alright, okay? We’re just talking.”

“…So it’s like that?”

Jungkook immediately replies to your sibling with a monotone, “Of course it is.”

To which he moves forward again before you stop him with a hand and a shout,

“The fuck it isn’t—”

“It is! Fucking hell, dude...”

You force an exhale, hating how your room is overflowing while you’re still drowning in the conversation prior.

Because now one talk is gonna sprout into three, and you already dread what each one is going to look like when it develops.

You hope Jungkook understands that you’re done.

You hope your brother understands that you’re tired.

And, above all the others, you hope to any high power out there that Yoongi understands that you are anything but finished.

When the tension doesn’t budge, you sigh and shift your weight.

“Look. We’re just talking. But I need to speak to him alone.” You breathe with finality, eyeing your sibling and his ride or die—hating and loving how ready they are to do whatever they need to, together.

But they don’t have to do anything.

Except let you do this yourself.

“Please.”

After a moment, they both look over your shoulder before your brother watches your face again.

But Yoongi seems to have finally caught Jungkook’s attention, because his eyes haven’t broken their lock until you say something,

“Trust me.”

Two weighty seconds pass before both men nod. And they leave without a word, emotions toppling on each other as soon as your door shuts.

When you walk up to lock it shut, you stare at the knob in silence.

While that was massively uncalled for, it could’ve gone much worse. You can already think of over a hundred outcomes, because that’s a look you’ve seen on your brother many times.

However. That’s not what has you lost in thought.

What keeps you frozen is the fact that you have never seen Yoongi like that.

It almost scared you, but somehow comforts you all the same. You can still feel the way he subtly squeezed you in assurance, pressing you into him when you really didn’t fall that far. There’s a jittering in your chest that hasn’t simmered, and it makes you feel like you’re halfway floating back to where Jungkook stands.

But you’re promptly grounded when you rejoin him, voice soft when you ask if he’s okay.

“He hasn’t changed,” is all he whispers.

And you look at the door with a sigh of disappointment. “He has a little. Still uptight as ever, but. At least I can leave the house.”

“Yoongi was a surprise.”

Oxygen abandons your lungs before you quickly catch yourself. “They’re best friends.”

Jungkook glares at the floor in thought before exhaling, and his silence seems charged. Almost off.

“Right.”

…Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?

Is it because he saw when Yoongi caught you? Or the fact that he showed up at all?

“Hey,” you whisper, hoping to rope him away from whatever scary things he could be pondering. When he flicks his attention to you, it takes a lot to not flinch at his watery eyes. “Ignore them. We aren’t finished here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and your conversation jumps right back to where it was. “For everything.”

“I know.” You close your eyes before sadness lowers your gaze. “But it’s gonna hurt for awhile.”

Even if you get this closure, it can’t cover all the years he made you doubt yourself. Made you feel like everything you went through was a lie and that love was something you just didn’t deserve. Confidence vaporized as a result, leaving nothing but issues and manufactured intimacy for years.

Maybe that’s why everyone said you were a bad lay before. Because you actually were.

Through your thick haze, you hear a faint, broken,

“You loved me?”

“I…” Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. “I still do.”

“What?”

Fuck.

It’s true. While he broke your heart first, he still cared for it more than anyone else after him had—until recently. The only grief he gave you was the breakup, which was why it threw you for an absolute loop.

As you grew up, though, you started to rationalize that the split was a good decision. He was moving, and you were leaving for college. How would you both have fared with the long distance? It probably would have ended one way or the other anyways.

So while the resentment burned your heart, it didn’t quite rid you of affection. What you feel as a result is similar to before, but so very, very different. Subdued. Faded. Like jeans you wore constantly but haven’t touched in years.

In all honesty, what broke you the hardest was losing a dear friend.

“I do,” you finally admit, not looking at him because of your next words, “But not the way you want me to.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, letting the outside world bleed into the room like a bitter interlude.

When he still makes no sound, you lift weary eyes to check on him.

And your chest constricts at the way he looks utterly and totally lost.

When you call his name, his gaze doesn’t leave the floor. When you whisper it again, the tear that falls makes you weak. “Kook, what’s wrong?”

He finally looks up, and you feel your eyes quickly reflect his. “I was so stupid,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. “I really didn’t know. Honestly, I knew that was impossible.”

For some reason, this makes you chuckle, and a new mood starts to paint the walls. “Why?”

“Because you were so cool.” His smile hasn’t changed. And that’s what cuts the deepest. “And I was just there because I always was.”

“What?” You start to join him in bittersweet recollection, albeit from a different perspective. When you reach forward to point at his necklace—because you will not touch the ring—you softly laugh. “Then what were these for, silly?”

When he sighs, you can feel the cracks in his curve. “I’ve been told that I’m clueless.”

“You are,” you say with a sagging grin. “Extremely.”

He laughs again. So do you.

And the both of you break all at once.

He’s crushing you in a hug and you’re crying into his clothes, hands gripping at his jacket and shoulder feeling the weight of his world.

While he repeats that he’s sorry, you choke out that you are, too. When he says it was never your fault, you cry even harder.

You fucking hate this. Now that you know the truth, it hurts that much worse. You hate, hate, hate that this is what everything came to. Everything that you both went through, destroyed by one mistake at the bitter end.

But you need to move on. You need to sacrifice the past for the future.

“I still love you,” he whispers, and you tense when he tightens his arms. “And I’m still sorry.”

“You idiot,” you cry into his chest, and you hear him hold back a sob before burying his head again.

And the two of you stay like that. One last embrace that you both needed.

Reminiscing over everything that doesn’t matter anymore.

When you both calm, you feel like it’s been hours.

But you move to step away first, confused at the way he doesn’t let you leave.

What’s he doing? Why is his mouth hovering over yours? You need to move. You need to move away.

But all you can do is plead, “I can’t.”

Still, Jungkook moves in.

Leaning to kiss just next to your lips instead.

What once would have lit your soul on fire now feels like a tempered flame, the smallest light of a candle before it burns out. And you’re grateful that he respects you enough to not push in a time of weakness.

You move away again, and he lets you go this time. But not without last words, “Promise me this person is alright.”

“I promise.”

“Only alright? I have a chance then.”

“Kook.” When you give him an empty glare, dying stars still linger in his eyes. “Friends?”

His lips give away his breaking heart before he nods. “I’m not leaving you again.”

Swallowing, you spread a thankful smile. “You better not,” you sniffle. “I need to decorate.”

He huffs, giving you one more teary stare. “If they ever hurt you, let me know.”

“I’ll be okay.”

After a noncommittal nod, he stands until you politely tell him you need a minute. When he leaves, you wait until the door shuts before wiping nothing from your cheek.

Wondering why this closure doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest.

You don’t know how long it’s been. Time doesn’t exactly flow when you’re caught between the past and the present.

But when you open your door, Dom is watching you with pure, unadulterated focus.

And your face scrunches in pain before she ushers you back inside.

She doesn’t say anything as you sit on your bed, offering her shoulder even though she doesn’t prefer physical contact.

While you’re grateful—so, so thankful for her presence—intermittent sniffles are the only sound you’re capable of.

Until you stabilize and come up for air, fishing words from your river of grief, “Remember what I told you. When he broke up with me.”

Anger simmers in her reply as her shoulder moves under your chin. You assume by the movements that she’s typing something on her phone—or prepping for revenge, either one of the two. “I do.”

“He said he still loves me.”

Your first thought is proven correct as a device plops onto your comforter. “Bullshit.”

“Dom…”

“What? Like he loved you then, too?” She scoffs. “You were the one that loved him and he cut you out. He needs to get over that.”

“He said it was a mistake.”

“It sure as fuck was.”

“I dunno. Something just doesn’t sit right.” You swipe at your nose. “He looked so.. I just…”

“Uh uh. It’s too fresh.” She gently lifts your heavy cloud off her person, firm fingers squeezing out rain. “You gotta get out of your own damn head right now.”

“I know.”

“Now.”

You break into another sob, hiccuping before nodding. “It just sucks, Dom. I d—”

“Look, I get that. But everything you’re thinking about already happened. It’s done.” A glance is thrown behind her back before she swivels around. “Focus on what you have now.”

In your moments of weakness, you ask the dumbest things,

“What do I have now.”

As always, Dominique is quick and to the point. “A man that’s waiting outside your door.”

Huh?

Your eyes flash up to hers as she stands. “Wait, what?”

What did she say? What does she mean? How does she know that what’s going on—

“One minute,” she warns, far away and not to you. “Then you’re on your own.”

“K.”

Wait, what.

You don’t even realize you’re vacating your bed as you see him walk in, nodding back at Dom closing the door before regarding your wreck of a face.

His name is molasses on your tongue.

What is he doing? Isn’t the party still on? Why is he walking closer?

He’s not supposed to be in here he can’t be here and you’re telling him that but he pulls you in so tight that the rest of your tears rain down in sheets.

“Fuck,” is all you can manage now, and he crushes you in even harder, as if he wants you pressed against all of him forever like a keepsake leaf on a journal page.

Your voice writes words into his clothes, silence his only reply but the only one you need.

Even if you only get a minute, this is enough. It’s enough, not enough, enough.

When he holds you at arm’s length, his question comes out a bit fast-paced, “What happened?”

Damn it. As much as you should probably tell him, you use precious seconds to pause, not really knowing if you want to or not.

“Don’t sweat it,” he quickly understands, kissing your forehead just as chaste. When he moves again, you catch the tension in his shoulders, notice the ruffles in his hair. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yes. No.” Fuck, he kinda looks as rattled as you feel. What is happening right now? “I just, umm. I need a minute.”

“You don’t have to go back out there, you know.”

“But you do,” you counter. “And I just wanna see you.”

Finally, Yoongi stops, and his whole upper body relaxes at once. A beautiful sound to your ears, amusement huffs out his nose before he mutters, “You can’t keep saying shit like that.”

“But it’s true.”

His chuckle is light, and mischievous eyes find the ground before they lift to yours,

“Makes me wanna take you home.”

Well. You swiftly realize why he doesn’t want you to keep saying certain things. The zing of emotion through your body was definitely uncalled for.

Any other day, you would want this type of conversation to keep going. And maybe you’d be a little coy about it.

But right now, all you are is tired, and your barriers are crumbled enough for a truth to escape.

Resigned, you step closer to wrap his waist in your arms, not caring if he can feel the rapid beats of your heart. “I want you to do that,” you admit, breath warming your face on his already warmer shirt. “All the time.”

“Take you home?”

“Mmhmm.”

Yoongi runs fingers along your arm. “You know I’d do it if I could, doll.”

If you were someone else. If you didn’t have to hide.

If you didn’t have to wait.

At least you don’t have to wait for much longer. Definitely can’t say anything to your brother tonight, but you and Yoongi agreed on after this party. So things will be better from here on out.

But why does he seem so—

You’re spooked by a warning knock on your door, and you flicker eyes to see his filled with something you don’t like.

And the air suddenly shifts to something alarming.

“Listen.”

“Hmm?”

“I know we said we’d say something.”

Oh. You shake your head, already on the same page and liking how in sync you are. “There’s no way. At least, not tonight. Jungkook—”

“It may need to be a bit longer than that.”

Huh.

What does he mean by—

“So you probably won’t see me for awhile.”

You freeze.

So does time.

A minute is no longer enough.

“Yoongi, please—”

“Can you do that?”

Your heart slams against your ribcage, banging and banging and screaming that what he’s asking is not possible.

Because he isn’t asking what you want to do. He isn’t even asking how long you can wait.

There’s a reason why he’s risking all sorts of shit to say this in person. Why he seems so restless.

And you’re already missing him so hard it hurts.

Truthfully? You can’t do this. Not now. Not when your heart is bleeding out on your own bedroom floor. There isn’t even enough time to process Jungkook’s talk and now you need to deal with this?

“Babe?”

But despite what you feel, even if your throat is seizing and your chest is caving in, your answer will be what he needs.

Because seeing Yoongi look like this—torn and frayed at the edges—renders you powerless and protective all at once. For fuck’s sake, he looks slightly panicked and this is the second new side of him you’ve seen tonight.

And yet he found a way to be with you one last time.

Sacrificing seconds just to say goodbye.

So you give up something, too. Your wants and needs because you don’t think you can do this, but it seems way too important to him to not try.

You get it. That whole confrontation probably snapped all sense back into him. He doesn’t want to hurt his best friend. Or disrupt his work environment. Or both. Whatever whatever whatever. You should’ve seen this coming.

If distance is what he wants, you’ll give it. Instant karma because you just told someone else to give you some, too.

Of course you lose someone as soon as you gain back another.

“Doll, let me know because—”

“Anything,” you rush out, and yearning taints your voice on the descent. “I’ll do it.”

He pans from one eye to the other, and you weakly reveal a crack in your resolve,

“Anything for you.”

That answer was a lot more than what you meant to say. And the next look he gives rips you into shreds. Shreds of the bigger truth you just told him with moments left of his time.

“For us,” he corrects, swooping in to give you one more soul-shattering kiss.

And with that, he pulls away, turning to retreat into the real world that proves absurdly cruel.

You don’t know when you’ll get to be alone with him again. It could be a day. Or months. Or even longer.

But watching him go, you know you can get through this. You know you can do it.

Because this is nothing new. Just another person leaving. You’ve gone through it before and you’ll go through it again and this time will be different, right? Right? He’ll come back. Of course he will.

And yet there’s still a part of you that questions.

If people are like seasons…

Which one will Yoongi be?

Fuck.

Your body is moving before the rest of you does, and you propel forward to tug him in, flooding his lips with saltwater and longing and a deluge of reluctant trust.

And he responds in an instant, swallowing you in an embrace you’ll cherish forever and willingly giving in to your desperate tugs on his jacket.

“Yoongi, I—”

You hear another insistent knock before he slings you into the nearest wall, and he grips the back of your head so hard you sob into his mouth.

“I know.”

His name rattles around your mouth.

“It’ll be okay.”

You wanna believe him.

“Okay?”

But you only nod, eyes filled with oceans but gaze unwavering. Because you need to see him. Because you need to see him.

“Fuck.”

He smashes his lips on yours once more, capturing every soft plea for him to stay and holding you so tightly that your heart splinters. And while you know this is his way of telling you everything will be okay, you have a sinking suspicion that he is fighting to believe it himself.

It’s not fair.

None of this is fucking fair.

If he was anyone else, if you were anyone else, if your brother wasn’t the way he was, if Jungkook wasn’t in the position he’s in now.

It was just nights ago that you cradled all his moonlight in your palms.

And now you’ll be farther apart than stars.

Yoongi finally pulls away right as Dom opens the door, and a myriad of emotions slosh into your brain when his eyes never leave you.

“I got us,” he vows, finger on your chin the sole thing keeping you afloat, and you suspend in disbelief that someone you know is witnessing his lips press your forehead in real time and no explosions or helicopters are crashing onto the scene.

Just a panicked “Hurry up, for god’s sake!” to indicate your friend is not amused or phased.

Yoongi finally steps away, slowly backing up before slipping out, and the door closes with only you inside—hand clawing deep into your chest.

Because you know him well enough.

He was committing your every feature to memory.

And the desperation in his reddened eyes hunches you forward in pain.

The rest of the party goes on. Music booms, people laugh, conversations sparkle.

And you hear them all through your door.

Unmoved from the spot everyone left you in.

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: Hey

Idiot🙄 [1:34am]: You up or nah?

You [1:40am]: yeah

Idiot🙄 [1:40am]: Help me clean up

You scoff at your phone, letting it fall from your hand before resting tired eyes between your knees.

When it buzzes again, you reluctantly read it with vision unreflecting.

Idiot🙄 [1:42am]: Left food for you, too

That you will leave your room for. You may have just cried out your weight in tears alone.

You🙄 [1:46am]: ok

Idiot🙄 [1:46am]: 👍

Cleaning is a quiet event, with you both doing the chores you’ve defaulted to over the years. While he clears the floors and deals with the trash, you steadily get through the dishes, scrubbing them as well as you can before placing them in the washer to dry.

A plate. A bowl after that.

Two whisky glasses even though there were plenty of solo cups to use.

You needed this. Needed a way of going through the motions and letting your brain fly on autopilot. If you sniffle, the water drowns it out, and only the dishes get to see any lingering tears.

And unluckily for you, there are plenty of both.

“Hey.”

You hum.

“Do I need to beat his ass?”

Well, that didn’t take long.

Frustration tears its way up your throat on all fours, “I should kick yours for what you did back there.”

“And I’d deserve it.”

You pause.

“But I still wanna know.”

Sighing, you shake your head, knowing that neither of you are angry enough to fight anyways. “No, okay? I was serious. We talked.”

“I know you talked but he still hurt you.”

Your lip stings under your teeth.

“And I can’t just let that go.”

When he stops, you place another dish on its rack. “Let’s just finish and I’ll tell you everything in a sec.”

He sets down the last of his trash before retiring in the living room, the thump of weary weight squeezing a sigh out of the couch.

And you eventually join him, water cutting off with a squeak before you shuck off your gloves.

As you walk through the cleaned-enough rooms, you keep hearing afterimages of conversations, wondering how many revolved around your shouting match with Jungkook, or how many speculated who Yoongi is or isn’t seeing.

All these pretend scenarios mock you from all sides.

But the conversation you’re about to have with your brother is gonna be real. And a long time coming, quite frankly.

You take a breath before crossing into a space that’s seen and heard many things. While you take residence in your regular spot on the sofa, your brother doesn’t deter his gaze from a television that’s not on.

But as soon as you blurt out your confession, he slowly closes his eyes.

“He broke up with me. Before I left for school.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me.”

Brows scrunched, you waste no time in pinning him with your response, “Did you see yourself back there? Imagine if you found out back then.”

Silence.

“Besides,” you continue, deflating back into the cushions, “He was moving, remember? And you had enough going on. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“I always worry.”

“It’s whatever at this point. I didn’t even know he was back until Yoo—you told me.”

Shit, that was close.

“I shouldn’t have made it a surprise.”

“Not your fault. What’s done is done.” When you observe the blank screen, you can see your brother aim a look your way. “Just made the whole uni thing miserable at first.”

And the years after, too, but he doesn’t need the same details that Yoongi got.

He sighs, hand scratching the side of his head before free-falling. When it’s quiet, you think he’s preparing for war. Prepping a vow to go after Jungkook and dealing with a problem that’s not yours anymore.

But he doesn’t do that. What he says catches you completely off guard.

An apology.

“I’m sorry I’m always gone. Or not really here when I’m back.”

Where did that come from? Are you already done with a talk you dreaded for years?

This can’t be it.

Blinking, your mouth slowly opens before you respond as level as possible. “It’s okay. I can pretty much fend for myself at this point.”

“I know. But I’ll try to be better.”

He’s gonna what? “Why?”

“Cus I feel… Uhh.” He moves his lips around in thought, as if the next sentence takes strategy to arrange. “I feel like we don’t really talk anymore.”

“…Oh.”

You’re thoroughly thrown. Because who the hell is this person you’re talking to right now? What’s up with him? He doesn’t need to try anything better except calm the fuck down sometimes. And let you be an adult.

And frankly, you feel like you talk a normal amount anyway. At least, you didn’t think anything was off about it.

What the hell happened after he left your room?

Suddenly, you see him laugh at the ground before asking it a question. “Remember when we’d go get our own food?”

Alright, he’s definitely drunk or a clone.

But you’ll take it. This switch in what you expected this conversation to be is a welcome one, and you softly entertain memories that aren’t supposed to be this funny. “Yeah. We’d get told to come back with our parents.”

“Until they realized we kept going alone.”

A memory makes you smirk. “You even tried dressing like a grown up.”

He chuckles again, elbows resting on his knees as he watches your coffee table. “I really thought I did it, too.”

“You did.” Thinking about all the shit you both went through, it’s truly a wonder how you’re both still here. Living and existing and doing big things.

A rueful chuckle leaves your lips, floating to the floor. “We’re fucked up, huh.”

“Very,” he agrees. “But who isn’t.”

True. “It could be worse, I think.”

“How?”

You play with some of the frays on your sofa, wondering when this piece of furniture started to resemble thin lines of too-soft polyester at its edges.

Did it start to give up around the same time your parents did? Or had their patience worn thin way before the threads on this cushion began to fade?

Whichever truth remains, at least it’s still here—witnessing all the struggles and triumphs, the highs and lows, and all the times the two of you had sat in puffy-eyed silence.

Together.

“They could’ve left us somewhere else.”

“Ah,” he nods, slowly shaking his head and twisting the watch on his wrist. “Nah.”

Silent, your eyes find his side profile in due time. “No?”

And his glare burns the path ahead. Just like it always has. “I wouldn’t have let them.”

“Oh, really.”

“I got them to leave us all this, didn’t I?”

Wait, he did what now?

…You didn’t know that.

“Hold on,” you breathe slow. “That’s what happened?”

“We had a deal.” He sighs before leaning all the way back, hands joined at the knuckles on his stomach. “If I graduated with full marks and, uhh. Got a starting salary high enough, they’d pay for your tuition.”

The pause he makes weighs a ton.

“And leave this to us when you came back.”

So… He…

Holy shit.

You were just fucking relieved you didn’t have to pay any loans. For once, you thought your parents really had your best interests in mind and did something out of kindness before peacing the fuck out.

But it’s all because your brother negotiated and pulled off the near impossible?

…Is he paying loans?

“I didn’t know any of that,” you whisper, finding yourself on the verge of tears again.

He simply shrugs, looking down at his cherished piece that he rarely takes off. “You didn’t need to. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.”

Your brother purses his lips, and you wonder what words he could be holding back. What thoughts he has that he won’t say out loud. If any of them are things he wants to say but can’t.

“It’s whatever.”

He had to grow up fast so that you didn’t have to.

And you don’t have the heart to tell him that university fast tracked that anyways.

So, while grateful as hell and knowing you’ll be thinking about this conversation for years, you switch the subject. You’re already overwhelmed as is.

And you suddenly understand what Yoongi might be struggling with, too.

Because if he did all this for you, what lengths has he gone for his best friend?

Shoving that thought into a far corner of your brain, you rest your head to mirror your sibling, letting your tears slide back to where they came from. “I, umm. Was wondering why they left us the house. But I figured they just didn’t wanna pay for it.”

“It was already paid off,” he explains, seemingly just as happy to talk about something else. “Don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s how I was able to negotiate in the first place. They had four other properties, and a condo on some island.”

“What.”

“That’s why they were rarely here. Work trips, my ass.” He scoffs before bouncing a leg. “And they had us in this place.”

“I like it here, though.”

“I do, too, but…” You hear a shuffle of his feet before he stops. “I just. I dunno, it’s just us here. It feels...”

“Empty?”

“Maybe. More like something’s missing? I dunno, that’s probably lame.”

You inhale before assuring him. “It’s not.”

And with that, you’re both left to stare at the same ceiling, conversation stewing and simmering around the whole room.

Usually, this is when you leave. Because you don’t wanna talk about shit like this, or you simply feel like doing anything else.

But tonight, you want to stay. You didn’t know these things about your brother and what he did, and it’s making you realize a lot of things.

And regret others.

A question rolls off your tongue before you can overthink it, “Do you ever wonder what we did wrong?”

“All the time.”

“When I think about it, I always end up thinking the same thing.”

“Hmm.”

You tilt your head his way. “We weren’t the adults. But neither were they.”

And you both huff in tandem after he grins. “Damn.”

You don’t know how the two of you got here. But it was much better than talking about anything else, and you silently thank him for not making you more miserable than you already were.

Truthfully, you feel a little better instead.

He just needs to know for sure that you really are past the whole situation. Mostly. A healthy amount, at least.

So you tell him. “I mean it, thou—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” You look over to see regret fill his side of the couch.

“For what I did. I was outta line.”

“Oh.” You swallow, surprisingly emotional that he’s even owning up to it. You know it only happened because he was being protective, but hearing this from him is huge. That had to be hard. “Thank you.”

“I just.. I love you, okay?” He turns to look at the ceiling again, and you quickly have to do the same because you know how that was even tougher to say. “You and my brothers.. You’re all I’ve got.”

Liquid emotion runs down your cheek, never having been told that more than once in a single day.

It’s a shame how foreign it sounds when you say it back.

But that doesn’t make it any less true.

“Love you, too.”

An hour later, you find yourself in bed, clutching your phone while a single question loops through your brain.

…Calling should be okay, right?

Even if you can’t see him, or really be in the same room, this should be okay. At least, in the dead of night when even birds are asleep. When no one is awake to judge you both for lying to the people you...

Your chest squeezes when you press down on your decision, the talk with your brother repeating in your ears.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

It’s ringing.

Still ringing.

…And you feel your chest cave when you hear it go to voicemail.

Fuck.

Maybe he’s sleeping already. Unforeseen circumstances like emotional turmoil tend to slow down your getting ready for bed process, so it took a lot longer than usual. Maybe he isn’t actively avoiding your calls and is just face down in a pillow you miss using.

And maybe you need to get used to this god-awful feeling as quickly as you can.

This hollow, aching, painful feeli—

Yoongi: Incoming Call

Your chest booms when you see his name, and you try your absolute hardest to answer normally even though instant tears blur the screen.

“H—”

“Sorry, I was showering, fuck.”

His breath sounds so rushed, and you immediately wonder what he looks like if he didn’t take that long to answer. Imagining him in only a towel or less, you let out a pained chuckle before whispering, “You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Of course that’s his answer. “I’m not. Just wondering if you were.”

“Why would I be if you aren’t? Ow.”

Body alert, you only focus on that last syllable. “Wait, are you hurt?”

You hear a low grunt before he responds.

“Just hit my fucking knee getting out.”

Ouch. How the hell did he do that? “I’m sorry. You got ice, though, right?”

“It’s not that bad. Just stings.”

“Okay.”

There’s some crunching sounds before you hear footsteps and hisses, and a thump before other noise crackles through.

“Spoke to Kook.”

Shit.

“And the guys.”

Oh. About work. “What’s up?”

“We’re gonna be busy as shit for the next month or two, so.. Guess that came at a good time.”

Ah. No finish line in sight.

But he didn’t hide that information from you, so you appreciate the honesty. Better than him leaving you in complete darkness.

“Yeah, do your thing,” you support. “I need to prep for this interview anyway. And figure shit out if I end up getting the job.”

“When you get it.”

You exhale, shy. “When I get it, yeah.”

“Where is it again? That blue building, yeah?”

“Mmhmm. But where I’ll be is like, third floor.”

“See? Claiming shit already.”

You realize right as he says it, but you meant something completely different. Your laugh is soft. “I meant for the interview.”

“Mm. Well lemme know where you post up after they hire you.”

“Yoongi.”

“Fine.”

“Did you, umm. Did you and Kook talk about anything else?”

“Just work stuff.”

“Okay.” Your eyes lower. If he’s telling you everything, you gotta reciprocate.

Even the stuff you don’t wanna mention. “He tried to kiss me.”

“What.”

Swallowing at his tone, you whisper, “I told him I couldn’t.”

“…I see.”

Fuck. He does not sound okay with that in the slightest. Disappointed with yourself, you apologize, “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? Don’t be.”

“You sound mad.”

There’s another moment of silence, and you don’t think you breathe until he responds,

“Not at you, doll.”

Well, shit. You don’t wanna cause any friction between them, especially after the energy Jungkook gave off earlier. It’s still bugging you to hell. “Nothing happened, baby. But he felt really off after y’all left, so.. I dunno. Be careful.”

“I will. But that means I can’t talk when he’s around.”

You bury your head, watching the hours that you get with Yoongi dwindle away. Knowing Jungkook, he’s gonna immerse himself in whatever keeps him distracted. So he will most likely be at the studio just as much. “At least you were there today,” you whisper.

“Mm.”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect that.”

There’s a breath on the line, and you can tell he’s hesitant just by the way he moves his phone. So when he finally speaks, your jaw goes slack.

“I was there first, doll.”

He what?

“Wait… You were?”

He was at your door first? He has to know how that looked, right? Your brother clearly saw him if he was the one to shout, and yet there was no mention of it when the two of you spoke.

Maybe that’s part of why Yoongi decided what he did. A decision to help you came with consequences he knew were coming. But he did it anyway.

Your breath is suddenly short. And your head is starting to spin with information overload.

“The plan was to only check for a sec, but he had the same idea. Showed up right behind me.”

“So… You both heard—”

“Nothing until the yelling.”

They were there the whole time. Both of them. Yoongi first? Your brother joining him?

Nope. This is too much. All of this is way too much for one night and your head is bursting at the seams.

Just another reason why this separation could be a good thing. Other than the fact that Jungkook seems weird and you can’t see Yoongi at all and him and your brother really are more than friends and you wedged yourself right in between everybody—

Information. Realizations. Guilt. You’re spiraling.

Run.

“I’m, umm. I’m gonna get off now.”

“You okay?”

Say yes. Say anything but “No. I’m… I don’t know, I really don’t know—This is a lot and—”

“Wait—”

“I get it and I’ll stay away for as long as you want—”

“Babe, talk to—”

“Bye, Yoongi.”

And you immediately hang up before your dam floods.

He doesn’t need to hear your grief over the past, your regrets of the present, your fear of the future. He doesn’t need to know how pained you really feel dealing with everything at once. How harsh his departure is because this is when you need him most.

Yoongi: Missed Call

All he needs to know is that you’ll do this for him. Because he would do the same for you.

And he’s done enough for everyone other than himself.

But goddamn if this doesn’t hurt like nothing else you’ve experienced before.

And you’ve been through hell.

Yoongi: Missed Call (2)

Why is he calling? Won’t this just make it harder?

Why does he keep trying if you need to stay away?

Yoongi: Incoming Call

With a heart so busted you don’t know where all the pieces are, you finally reach up to acknowledge his effort.

And his greeting sends a pang through your chest.

“Knew you’d answer on the first try.”

Sniffling, you say his name so, so softly.

“You didn’t let me say bye.”

When you don’t respond, he trudges on.

“So now, you get to hear the longest good night ever.”

Huh?

“And no hanging up this time.”

What the heck does he… mean…

As soon as you hear the light strums of a guitar, your heart shows signs of life. And you let everything out while he gathers the scattered shards with every chord. Every note.

Every second he doesn’t say goodbye.

A river flows into your pillow until it runs dry, and the Moon outside your blinds casts a silver blanket over your defeated shoulders.

And it’s only when you and your phone are dead to the world that the Sun steps in to peel it off with calm palms.

For the first time in a long time, you plan a sleepover at Taehyung’s.

And after getting a rundown of what happened, he completely agrees that you both need it.

It’s been a minute since you slept over there, and rolling onto his driveway makes you remember the first time it happened.

Your brother was outright flabbergasted you even asked.

But after some arguments from you and very clear energy from Tae, your brother waved you off and just demanded no funny shit better happen.

And you’ve spent so many nights over there since then that Taehyung’s one of the people he calls if he’s looking for you.

Being reminded of something else interesting, you think back to the first time you went to Yoongi’s, spending enough time there that he ended up on the list of people to call about your whereabouts.

As hot as he was picking up with a cheeky arm around you, it was surprising he was on that list in the first place.

Well, maybe not. They’re best friends. But why would he—

“You just gonna waste gas in my driveway or what?”

Snapping your head up, you see Taehyung looking bored, hands on his hips and wearing the most comfortable clothes you’ve ever seen.

Your glare in return is empty when you finally get out, circling around to grab your stuff and take-out from the passenger seat.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you joke as he goes to grab the food. Locking your car, you follow his grumbles into the house with a laugh, feeling a little okay already.

“How’s Jimin?”

“Still complicated, but that’s not what we’re here to discuss.”

You sigh before you poke your noodles, knowing you have quite the catch-up to get through. If only your attempt at procrastination worked.

“Eat,” Taehyung orders before taking a hearty slurp of his meal. “I don’t care if you’re sad, this wasn’t cheap.”

“Excuse you.” He’s lucky you resist the urge to fling saucy food all over his shorts. “Also, I paid for it, the hell?”

When your friend blows air through his nose, you scoff before silently doing as he says, pouting at the beginning credits onscreen.

“How long has it been?”

Ah. That’s a good start.

As you peer down at your food, emotion and appetite abandon your palate,

“A month.”

“...Damn.”

Taehyung already knows all about what happened. But even if he didn’t, you think he would’ve caught on to your increasingly depressing song choices. And the way you barely watched Yoongi during the last intramural game.

“How’s the new job, though? Good distraction?”

That you can talk about for hours. “Thank fuck it is.”

“That’s good, at least.”

As your meal progresses, you continue to catch him up on everything, including the way night calls are the only thing keeping your hopes afloat.

Because Yoongi was right. Ever since the party, weekdays have been radio silent, and you soon got accustomed to looking forward to his late texts saying he’s home.

And you’ve been okay with that. Landing the job and getting swamped with training has kept you busy, and your friends have been a wonderful salve for persisting wounds.

It just stings when you know the studio is close by. Because even though Yoongi extended invitations before, you avoid that area like the plague.

“But enough about me,” you huff. “Still complicated with him, huh.”

If Taehyung knows you’re too sad to keep talking, he doesn’t show it. His response simply comes after a few chews. “Yeah. But”—he swallows—“Not in a way I’m mad about.”

“What do you mean?”

Taehyung settles back into the sofa right as a ball of fluff hops on, and you watch the movie roll by while he gently orders him to get down. “He’s not as flaky. We just haven’t really labeled anything yet.”

That’s surprising to hear. Tae doesn’t strike you as the labeling type at all, so your question is genuine, “Do you need one?”

A huff is what you get in return, and you can hear the smile in his tone. “He seems to want one more than me. Which is why I don’t get the hesitation.”

“Mm.”

That makes more sense. Knowing what you know about Jimin, you aren’t shocked he would be conflicted about something he really wants.

Why he’s skirting around the point is the question. It’s clear to you that they would be so cute together. And sickly annoying in public.

“Maybe that’s a good sign,” you blurt, roping your friend’s gaze and attention. Spotlight on you instead of the characters bustling about his television, you smile. “It’s like he’s scared because he cares about your feelings.”

Not unlike what’s happening between another pair of friends you know.

Taehyung blinks, and you’ve always liked the way curiosity widens his eyes.

But he’s so quiet that you shift. “What?”

He keeps staring before biting an incoming smile. Before you can question him again, something brightens his expression. “You’ve changed, you know that?”

Huh. “Me? How?”

Your friend just grins before resting his head on the top of his cushion. “I’ve always known you were amazing. But now you look like you know that, too.”

All thoughts fizzle out before your jaw dips. When you try to present arguments, none materialize, and Taehyung laughs at the way you physically buffer.

“Not even denying it. I like this.”

“Shut up,” you finally pout, embarrassed and shy when he laughs again.

The rest of the film continues with nothing else but your commentary, and Taehyung clicks out of the queue screen before another one can start.

“Break? Or what do you feel like?”

You feel Yeontan’s fluff at your feet. “We can keep going.”

“Mmk.”

Both of you contemplate which one to pick when you feel your phone vibrate a ton. And when you see the notification, your heart leaps before crashing back down to the ground.

Yoongi [5:02pm]: Just got booked for another week

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Can’t talk now but

Yoongi [5:03pm]: Letting you know

Right.

You slowly let your hand drop with a sigh, and you can feel Taehyung’s pitied stare without moving.

“I know,” you whisper. “I shouldn’t be upset.”

“You can definitely be upset.”

You lift weary eyes to see that your assumption was very wrong. There’s no pity evident at all.

Only warmth. And understanding.

“Cus knowing him? He’s probably more frustrated than you are.”

There’s a pinch in your chest, a sharp one that cuts your breath for a small second in time.

Him? Being more upset than you?

You only thought about that possibility once, but you quickly dismissed it. There’s no way.

But hearing Tae say it from a guy’s perspective—and someone that knows how Yoongi can be—gives you pause.

It just didn’t make sense before because he sounds fine when you call, and he doesn’t really talk much about his own shit unless you ask. Which is strange considering he was fine doing so after your huge breakthrough at his place. Granted, it was mostly about good things.

Does he only hold back when it’s about stuff that stresses him out? That’s not ideal. You’ve told him before to tell you what’s bothering him, so if he’s still hesitant to let you in…

Taehyung’s honeyed voice brings you into the present,

“What are you gonna say?”

Blinking, you push your lips together in thought before looking at your phone again.

If Yoongi really is more upset than you are, then you should tell him something that you would wanna hear from him. Even if you aren’t feeling so hot.

You [5:07pm]: how’s ur back feel from carrying everyone so hard🥴

You [5:07pm]: jk its ok<3 you’re getting recognized and it’s about time

When you send those, something strange happens to your shoulders.

They’re lighter.

How is that possible? You’re still sad.

But your mind seems to clear some junk out, instead feeling a little okay about the whole thing.

Hopefully Yoongi receives them well. If he doesn’t, you’ll figure something else out.

Yoongi [5:09pm]: Lmaoo I’m saying. They better run me my check and cover my hospital bills.

You laugh with teary eyes, soul feeling like it’ll live despite plans being pushed back again.

The lingering sadness remains, but it’s dwindled for now. An afterthought to the slight happiness you feel from lifting him up instead of dragging him down.

Another message slides into the thread before you click your phone shut, so when Tae gets more food, you catch what it says.

Yoongi [5:11pm]: Fuck I miss you

And your heart beats extra loud, mouth slightly curved and wobbly because you agree but it’s okay, okay, okay. You can both do this.

You [5:12pm]: i miss you too.. but focus now and tell me all about it later

Of course you want to cry. Of course you want to curl up into a ball and sob.

Yoongi [5:15pm]: Thanks doll

But just like there’s strength in being strong, there’s just as much strength in being gentle.

Because as upset as you feel, it’s better if you don’t show it. While you aren’t completely resolute, you push forward in silence. Even if you can’t see the finish line.

The lingering feeling of anxiousness remains; the what-if’s batter your mind from the inside. But you choose to stay optimistic for him, and even you have to admit that’s admirable.

But the yearning still packs a fucking punch.

Your shoulders must be slumping to hell because you feel a warm presence settle against you, slinging an arm around and holding you close.

The only sound you make is a quick sniffle, but you don’t move as Taehyung reads the thread on your phone.

“You see what I see, right,” is all he whispers.

And when you slightly shrug, he leans his head against yours.

“You will.”

Nodding, you feel more tears follow the paths of their predecessors, and you don’t move to wipe them away. “You’re a good person, Tae.”

His chuckle sounds like a hearth, and you welcome Yeontan’s sniffs on your legs.

“Jimin’s lucky you’re even giving him a chance.”

“Ah.” After squeezing your bicep, your friend reaches down to pick up his baby. “He’s lucky I gave him more than one.”

“Oh? The luckiest then.”

“You can do this,” he murmurs. “He’ll be ready before you know it.”

With heavy eyes, you glance down at your still unfinished food.

“Maybe you’re right.”

One week turns into three.

Then two more pass.

And Taehyung might be less correct than you thought.

“Fuck,” you groan, clutching under your stomach. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay.”

“At least you don’t have to see me this gross.”

“So?”

“You better stop.” Another eruption of pain shoots through your lower body, and you exhale into your pillow. “This is only making it worse.”

“You got a heating pad?”

A what? How does he know about—

Oh. Right.

…You probably shouldn’t tread waters you don’t know the depths of.

“Yeah. But it’s too far and I’m lazy.”

He laughs in pity but doesn’t show any in his words,

“Go get it, doll.”

Because being reminded of his last relationship also makes you wonder why it ended. And wonder if that also has anything to do with his decision.

Now hurt in multiple ways, you childishly retort, “You get it.”

“I would if I was there. But I’m not, so you’re gonna.”

“Fine.” You huff into your pillowcase, knowing you’re gonna get up because his perfect mix of support and command is annoyingly attractive. “How much longer?”

Yoongi’s too quiet for your tastes.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Eyes closed, you’re silent for eons.

“Okay.”

To your confusion, you get a food delivery at your office the next day.

Inspecting the contents of the bag, you’re cautious until you notice a takeout box of mandu under some sweets and a few all too familiar fruits.

And at the note inside, you promptly proceed to the least used bathroom to compose yourself.

Soon.

Soon and Almost are somewhat similar.

Both can give people a bit of hope.

But they can also be the most dangerous words to play with.

Because soon is hilariously arbitrary, and you almost believed it meant something good.

“Going to Yoongi’s.”

“K.”

“You wanna go? He’s having a few people over.”

You bite down so hard your jaw hurts. “Nah, I already have plans tonight.”

“K. Have fun!”

When the door closes, you keep your eyes on the television.

Arms falling at your side because you know you aren’t going anywhere.

On a random Tuesday, you finally get a package you’ve been waiting on for what seems like months, and you rush to your room to check if it’s exactly what you wanted.

When it looks so beautiful, and feels smooth to the touch, you clutch the material in sorrow.

It’s perfect.

And completely useless for the time being.

Calls have been the one thing getting you by.

But over time, even those have virtually stopped.

It can’t be helped. He’s working far too late into the night for you to stay awake, and is passed out by the time you need to wake up.

Spending time with friends helps distract from the drift, especially when one of them keeps snapping you into the present, but they’re getting busy, too.

However. Despite all the obstacles, you keep waiting. A season has passed, yet you stay grounded.

Hoping, wishing, choosing to believe that Yoongi’s not gonna do the same.

You accidentally spill your drink.

And you sob.

One chilly night, you take more of Taehyung’s advice, going to Jimin’s determined to have a good time.

But despite the manufactured confidence you had while getting dressed up and the way you were totally fine walking in and conversing with people and the admittedly perfect vibes of the party…

There’s a hole in your chest that won’t decrease in size.

No matter what you feed it—food, drinks, the compliments of others—it refuses to budge, and this emptiness holds weight. Heavy. Melancholic.

Painful.

As you suddenly find yourself on Jimin’s windy balcony, one with a slightly different view than the one you’ll remain on forever, dull eyes lower to your solo.

If you forget this one on the railing, too…

Will he finally show up to hand it back?

A sharp ache spreads as the hole expands, new tears too powerful to ignore. You know your vision swims, but you don’t move to stay afloat at all.

Three months.

Ninety days.

Eight million seconds.

It only took sixty for you to miss him. And it only took sixty-one for you to feel something else.

How many more will you end up counting? How long until you get to count down instead of up?

You keep asking yourself that. When you know for damn sure that you don’t want to know the answer.

A breeze wraps around your limbs as you sip, the chill cutting through your dress and making you teeter in your heels.

Because it seems like Yoongi doesn’t know, either.

To the point where it’s starting to scare you.

Has he been perfect otherwise? Sickeningly.

But something in you keeps wondering why the wait keeps extending, anxious that he could be flat out stalling.

Prematurely saddened by the possibility that he’s reconsidering entirely.

It makes sense. At least, more sense than him actually wanting something with you. Maybe this time apart has given him the clarity to realize how rose-tinted this whole situation has been. How unrealistic and laughable.

But that night in his kitchen…

It’s getting harder and harder to stay positive.

On the verge of defeat, you hold out your phone, clicking around until your finger hovers over a certain Call button.

You can’t.

He’s working. Someone could see your name, if he has it saved as normal as you have his.

Your finger moves a bit closer.

What the fuck are you doing? Stop. Don’t screw up everything you’ve had to endure with one impulsive decision.

But your mind is fucking bad tonight and you have no clue why.

When the screen lights up with the call screen anyway, ice water rushes through because you totally didn’t mean to call and you need to end it now.

Hold on, it’s an incoming call?

Oh fuck, it’s an incoming call.

Your throat sears as your eyes shut tight.

How the fuck did he know? How the fuck does he always know?

Tears burning, you try your hardest to calm the hell down before you answer, wondering why he dubs you his good luck charm when he puts guardian angels to shame.

You can’t even say hello.

“Hey.”

Fuck. Get it together. Gentle, silent, strong.

“Hello?”

But you can’t. Not this time. Just hearing his voice for the first time in weeks has you crumbling, and that damn hole in your chest is unquenchable.

As soon as your greeting is nothing but a weak sniffle, his change in tone seizes your soul and squeezes.

Because it plummets.

“Where are you.”

There’s quick shuffling and a door opening.

“What’s wrong.”

Damn it there’s keys jangling and you can’t help but sob even harder knowing exactly what he’s doing.

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi. He doesn’t have to go home just because you’re what, sad? Pathetic.

You feel way too many things for this man and it fucking sucks that eight million seconds have gone by after you finally acknowledged them.

However many you get with him now, whenever that may be, you’re not taking a single one for granted.

“Babe, tell me. Now.”

“Jimin’s. Outside,” you choke out, sniffling and wiping both cheeks. “But nothing happened, Yoongi, I just—It just—”

“Gimme twenty. Can you do that?”

Lowering your head and expectations, you huff in sad amusement.

Of course you can. Twenty minutes is nothing to you now. You can wait until he’s free. “Guess so.”

“K. Go back inside and grab a bag.”

Huh? Knitted brows get aimed at your cup as you question him.

“Chips, doll. Jimin has some in the pantry.”

That doesn’t answer anything, so you remain thoroughly confused. “I’ll be okay,” you respond after a moment, simply assuming he wants you to replenish sodium. “I’m not hungry.”

“I am.”

You freeze.

So does time.

And the next three seconds are enough.

“But you better bring the good shit or I’m not letting you in the car.”

After camping in the only unoccupied bathroom, you finally get a text that he’s somewhere around the corner.

And your chest has never felt lighter.

Texting Tae, you let him know that you’re leaving and that you don’t apologize to Jimin for raiding his kitchen. When he responds, that’s when you slip out, your departure a mess of crinkling and racing heartbeats.

If anyone sees you walking out with chips, you pay them no mind. Because you only care what one person thinks.

And seven minutes later, when you see him doubling over at the bazillion noisy bags in your arms, you laugh along at the absurdity of it all.

It’s almost enough to distract you from what he’s wearing.

But to your credit, you don’t exactly see the damn rips in his jeans until he opens a back door for you to throw your haul in.

As if the black top wasn’t already disrespectful enough. His hair has even gotten longer, and you really, really like the new length.

“Fucking hustler.”

No second is wasted as you grab his shirt, positively melting at the way he doesn’t resist or shy away at all.

In fact, he does the exact opposite, crushing you against his warm car so fast he has to brace himself. You welcome the way air leaves your lungs, because you’re giving it all to him with each pass of his lips over yours.

Both of you know you’re outside, in public, somewhere you can be seen. But, mirroring the last time you kissed under a starry sky, neither of you act like you give a shit.

Just like that, everything that has haunted you fades. The worries, the fears, the doubts. It doesn’t matter how many days have passed, because it feels like he never left.

And you suddenly know Yoongi is summer.

Endless.

“Get in,” he rasps through a smirk. “Thief.”

With a grin spread so wide your cheeks hurt, you respond right as your foreheads meet,

“Anything for you.”

With nothing but the road ahead and him beside you, everything is right with the world.

“You still have to gimme chips.”

Maybe not quite everything.

Smile ruining your attempted pout, you reach behind your seat to pick a random bag, settling on the easiest one to grab. “You really made me get these just for you, huh? Are you eating?”

“Yes, my love. And I never said that.”

Well. That first sentence will never, ever, ever be unpacked.

As you shakily open the bag, you hope his music hides your shiver, “Such a smartass.”

“You’re the smartass.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t smart, too,” you laugh, tugging down your dress because he has his car pretty cold tonight. “I know you are.”

When Yoongi reaches to grab some crisps, his blatant stare on your thighs makes you squirm. “Why?”

“I just… You read.”

To your chagrin, he laughs in surprise, forcing you to look out the window.

Which makes you miss the way he turns down the fans. “I’m smart cus I read? How do you even know?”

“You have books under your coffee table,” you answer without doubt as he digs for more chips. “And you don’t have decor just to have it, so…”

He cocks a brow before focusing on the road, licking his fingers and giving you grief. “I moved those, by the way.”

“Em”—you cough—“Embarrassed?”

“Proactive.”

“Huh? For what?”

He can barely contain his spreading curve. “The next time you decide to fuck up my place.”

Your heartbeat skips as you gawk, and the current song is overshadowed by your playful shouts and tickle attempts. “Oh, bullshit!”

“You soaked—aish—my whole apartment!”

“That was you!”

“No?”

“Yes? I was nice and only got your head wet!”

Yoongi glances at you then, head tilted up in cockiness and wide smirk slicing through your every thought.

And you glitch when you realize why.

Settling back into your seat with arms guarding your shyness, you sniff upward. “Ugh. Whatever… I’m right.”

He chuckles a bit before making a turn, and the scenery starts getting familiar.

Way too familiar.

Wait, he’s taking you back to your house?

No no no. Why is he taking you there?

You got into his car fully prepared to go back to his place, consequences and shit be damned. Everything else be damned. One night is all you want right now, and there’s no way you aren’t going without a fight.

All sense of the current mood dissipates when you grip his forearm. “Not there.”

He flicks his gaze, rolling to a stop at an intersection that’s frighteningly close. And his expression falls when he shifts into park with a sigh. “Babe… We can’t.”

“I don’t care.”

“I was only gonna bring you back.”

“Baby, please.”

“He’s home—”

“Do you still miss me?”

He freezes.

Which gives you a chance.

Eyes glossy, you use all the seconds you have to say everything you’ve kept to yourself.

Almost everything.

“Because I get it if you don’t. I do. But I really… I really fucking miss you. And not just because of, whatever. But I consider you a friend and fun as hell to be around, and I haven’t”—you inhale, hating how it shakes—“I haven’t been this happy in weeks. And we aren’t even doing anything.”

Yoongi is completely silent. But that’s okay because you aren’t done.

“I know you said I wouldn’t see you. But after getting to know you? The real you? …That sucks.” You can’t look at him when his hand slips from the wheel. “I’m not gonna make you change anything, just. Telling you what’s on my mind. Like you said. I’m gonna do that a lot more now.”

He doesn’t say a word as a tear cuts one of your cheeks, and you’re brave enough to look his way again. “But it’s been three months, Yoongi,” you whisper. “Is that still not enough for you?”

Time ticks as you hold your breath, oxygen depleting and lungs nearing collapse as you watch his eyes close.

You laid everything out on the table. Your words, your thoughts, your pain.

Whatever he decides, though? You’ll respect it. You said what you wanted to say and you won’t take any of it back. If he wants to prolong this, you won’t stop him. If he doesn’t want this anymore… the home in your heart will need repairs, but you’ll live. Somewhat. You don’t know how but somehow. People are like seasons. You’re used to it.

Yoongi’s still way too quiet.

So, giving up and getting the point, you reach up to open your door.

“Stop.”

You do.

And the way he flexes his jaw shoots magma through your veins before he wrenches the car into drive.

The universe spins as you burst into Yoongi’s apartment, running, bumping, slamming into furniture until you get thrown against his bedroom door.

Welcoming the pain, you devour his scorching lips, fingers digging into his hair with a desperation that frightens you. All you feel is him him him, barely recalling the manic drive over and the way he all but busted into his own place.

If there were any lingering doubts to your question, they’re left out in the chill, not allowed to witness the way he hitches your leg up before pinning you firm with his pelvis.

“Shouldn’t be fucking doing this—”

You moan at the way his jeans feel on your skin, shivers running rampant when you more than feel his hardness poke through. “Please,” you pant, sticking to your word and ready to tell him what you want.

“Please what.”

Everything you want.

Tugging his head back, your admissions rub right against his mouth, “Choke me. Use me. I don’t care, do it all.”

“Huh?”

A breath whooshes out when he yanks you forward with a growl, and you cannot seem to stop, “Don’t be nice. Spit in my mouth. Make me beg like a fucking slut, I need it.”

All the other times, you’ve seen Yoongi break in different ways.

But this is the first time you’ve felt him legitimately snap.

“The fuck.”

Lightning strikes the dark as he slams you backward, teeth clinking against yours when he smothers you with saliva and lust. When he shoves his door open, you stumble back, more unholy plans in mind than he imagines.

You don’t know what’s coming over you.

Even as you force him sideways to shove into his rolling chair, the piercing look he gives is no match for your inner storm.

“Babe—”

Impatient, you drop to your knees, the pain nothing to you as your fingers twitch over his zipper. As you tug his pants down with force, Yoongi’s outright shock is another first for you.

“Are you su—”

“Let me do this,” you plead upward, and you feel highly motivated when he doesn’t do a thing except let out a low, gritty hum.

Grabbing at his cock, you already moan at the way it feels in your palm…

Softly, oh so softly, a large hand closes over yours, and you hear your name in a whisper, haze temporarily receding.

What’s wrong? Does he want you to stop?

When you ask without a word, Yoongi leans forward to capture your lips, and this gives you a warm sort of deja vu. “You drank tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah…?” Oh. He totally tasted alcohol. And your frantic behavior. He thinks—Oh.

Understanding what he’s getting at, you reach up and caress his cheek. “I’m not drunk, baby,” you chuckle. “I just missed you.”

Again, he looks at your eyes, one after the other. When you say it once more for good measure, he kisses you in acceptance.

“So are you gonna fuck my throat or nah?”

He falls back with a groan, raking his hair and legs spread wide. “What are you doing to me.”

“This.”

Without prompt, you dive head first, leaning forward to take his tip and swirl your tongue all around. Commanding his every drop of attention, you don’t let up as you tug your dress downward, breasts spilling out before you stand just enough to claim his lips.

He takes full advantage with a devilish curve, smacking your tits before ordering, “Get the fuck back down there.”

And you obey with a proud smirk of your own, hoping he’s liking this new side of you, too.

Back between his knees, you worship his length in earnest, swallowing him again and again and lathering him in saliva so your hands slide easily on him, too. When you feel his veins rub both your palms, you hear a symphony of lustful baritones.

“Holy fuck.”

You quickly discover you can’t get enough. Lapping, sucking, sheathing your head on his cock so far your brain smushes upward. He feels so familiar at this point that you realize you missed him even here, knocking the back of your throat and burdening your tongue with heavenly, sinful weight.

And you feel more familiar palms grip your head, eyes opening to see him staring down with reverence and something you can’t quite decipher.

“So fucking filthy...”

You chuckle, the rumble making him hiss and throw his head back against his chair.

“Don’t do that.”

You gladly disobey, laughing even harder around him before releasing with an expert pop to suck on his balls.

“Fuck!”

There’s a slight squeak before he grips you again, and you can tell he’s slipping by the way his moans devolve into breathy, short hisses.

Breaking, he pushes your head into his sack before slapping your cheek with his cock, and you hum as it slips back inside your grin.

Yes yes yes. You want him to enjoy this just as much as you do, steal this time together and run with it, need him to hang on the brink of mania where you currently reside. Because even though he’s saying things, you can’t hear them over the wholly impure sounds slopping out of your esophagus.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he praises, thrusting up slow as you keep him slathered. “Missed that fuckin’ mouth.”

You finally come up for air, gulping in air and letting him see you in all your panting glory. When you lock eyes, his lidded gaze is loaded, aimed only at your taunting stare.

Drool coats you in globs. Your chest, the floor, hanging from your lips as you stroke him with wet fingers before swallowing another time.

And you think you can do this until your jaw falls off.

But suddenly you’re hoisted upward before being thrown onto soft sheets, legs roughly shifted to one side as you paint the dark with your hoarse giggles. Before you know it, his lips attack your chest, and he’s setting butterflies wild as you arch in record time.

“Take this off,” he growls, tugging at your dress with sweaty fingers that you want lodged in multiple places. “No more hiding.”

You mewl, undressing as fast as you’re able, tearing the garment off and flinging it away. But your heels are still on, and whether he’s just as deft at removing those, too, you’ll need to hit pause. “What about my—”

“Don’t,” he grits with brows pinched, and his next vow is absolute, pure sin,

“I’m fucking you with them on.”

“Oh, fuck.” Your whine is high as you throw your head back, the next groan guttural as you feel a hand smack the side of your ass with force. Your jaw comes loose, soreness shooting through its curve as your legs are erotically parted to give Yoongi a view of everything.

You know your panties are soaked.

You know he’s gonna wreck your shit.

But seeing him eye the whole mess on display before lifting his hungry gaze your way? You’re damn sure you aren’t gonna survive the night.

Perfect.

“Please fuck me, baby,” you let out with a tone so soft that you think he doesn’t hear you.

He does. “I’m gonna do a lot more than that, doll.”

You tilt your head, confused and wondering what he means.

But he ignores your wordless question, sliding fingers along your ankle before holding your leg to kiss that same spot.

The action alone is enough to rewire your brain, but it’s the way he looks so confident, so unbothered, so determined that has your insides churning with want.

He plants lips there again before shifting his hand down to your calf, yanking your leg back wide and pulling a tiny help out of your throat. When he shifts to grip your other leg, he growls under his breath,

“So fucking perfect.”

“No, you,” you counter with a pout, and flinch what the fuck his slap to your cunt felt good. “Hey!”

“None of that,” Yoongi orders with finality. “Not after all that shit you said at the door.”

“I dunno what happened there,” you admit, inevitably shy under his commanding presence. Your cheeks sizzle before your teeth grip your lip, temporarily brought back to normalcy at his confession,

“Almost made me come.”

“Be for real.”

“Damn serious.”

The cheshire cat would be jealous of your grin. “Then I should keep going?”

“Uh huh.” He cups your whole cunt, and the possessive nature it exudes pushes a whine against your teeth. “Tell me.”

“Fuck me like you missed me.”

A groan rips through his room before he swoops down, lips bruising yours on the landing before he shoves his mouth against your neck.

Tingles erupt over your skin as he laps at your throat, so hard that your entire upper body slides across his rumpled sheets. When you feel his cock rub across your thong and his jeans grazing your skin, his name flies out of your chest. Moans, sighs, everything in between.

“Careful,” he warns low before another toe-curling lick. “You won’t leave if I did that.”

“I don’t want to,” you grit in return, reaching to sink claws in his hair and tug. “Wanna stay.”

Strong arms wrap around you before you feel him spread liquid fire up your shoulder, and he reaches to nip at your ear before deft fingers flick a nipple.

His voice rasps against your cheek, but the words sound reluctant to even leave. “You shouldn’t even be here, babe.”

Fuck. You know that’s true but your heart is rattling like a monster starved.

“Just tonight,” you plead your case. Because you don’t want to be shooed away before it’s over, but if this is all you get, he needs to do something now. “But if you really don’t want this then please kick me out before—”

“Fuck that.” After greedily tweaking your other nipple, he rolls his body against yours, making you fiend for the weighty cock wedged against you with only thin material between. “Fuck all of that.”

He rushes upward before nudging your leg over with a strong hand, and you fixate on the way his chains hit his chest. Just like always. “Don’t move.”

You don’t even get to breathe twice as he drops from sight, and you yelp to his roof as soon as you feel teeth nick your inner thigh. At your flinch, you feel him grip your leg with force, ordering you even harsher,

“I said. Don’t move.”

“But—Yoongi!”

You don’t notice him yank your underwear sideways before flattening a hot tongue against your folds, sucking so good you have to back away from the stimulation. Immediately, both your legs are seized before he tugs you back to him.

“Uh uh.”

And he keeps your legs apart before diving deep, and you’ve never devolved into a quivering mess so fast in your goddamn life. The way he licks, sucks, kisses just where you need—everything sends thunder through your chest, lightning across your cunt, rain into your eyes.

You can do nothing but squirm, squeals and whines and high moans leaving arrowheads in his ceiling.

Holy fuck, did you sound this loud when you worshipped him? Even now, spread wide and willing to give Yoongi the world, you find a moment to be embarrassed in the best way.

If the neighbors hear, you don’t care. They’re gonna know how well he’s feasting on you, how gorgeously corrupt you feel. How you’re his and his alone and ready to scream it to the rooftops.

When you feel a finger alongside his tongue, the sound you make borders on inhuman. You think it’s his name, but even you aren’t quite sure.

All you know is that you’re close. Your thighs are burning and your fingers swipe at his locks but he refuses to let you go. “Yoongi—I’m—”

Suddenly.

He stops.

And every nice thing you have to say to him falls to the wayside. “No no no! Please, fuck—”

The light tap to your cunt makes you quiver, and your chest heaves when he chuckles without pity,

“What’d you say?”

“Plea—Baby!”

“Huh?”

Every fucking time you speak, he taps again. And every time he gets you close, he edges with aggravating control. Again. And again.

And again.

You exist between reality and fiction, somehow seeing yourself unwinding, winding, spiraling out of control. Words start to form abstract blobs of syllables, your mouth hanging open as he peppers lazy, unbothered kisses on your thighs.

In your foggy vision, you think you see him stand. And you’re pretty sure he grabs his cock before he’s rubbing his thick head between your folds oh fuck—

“This is what you wanted, huh.”

Your breath hitches with a whine as you nod.

“You gonna be a good little slut?”

Oh, you’re gonna be whatever he fucking wants. So you nod again, not without a smile lopsided.

“Then fucking beg.”

He smacks his cockhead against your cunt, springing your back in an arch and tugging strings of incoherent speech from your depths. You make hard lines of his sheets as you grip them in both palms, and you don’t wanna know what you’re saying because the way Yoongi’s staring with a smirk has you blacking the fuck out.

To the point where you’re nothing but a quivering, shaking, restless mess on his bed.

You somehow closed your eyes at some point, because they fly open when you feel his lips on yours, and you tug at his stupidly attractive shirt that he didn’t bother to pull off. “Please,” you whisper, brain floating oceans away. “I need you.”

“Need you, too.”

He breaks away to grab a condom, and this is when you realize how intertwined you feel because even this distance is too much to bear. You’re spilling nonsense and breathing harsh and you attribute that to the sole fact that you crave release. It’s aching. Consuming.

Yoongi’s already naked and prepped by the time he positions himself between your sore legs, and you give in without resistance again when he descends on your lips.

When you whisper his name, he kisses it away, and you briefly wonder why his hands shake running up your sides.

Finally, finally, finally, he gives exactly what you want, the initial connection stretching you sore because it’s been way too long. And you feel emotional when you don’t even doubt it’s been too long for him, too.

Because his eyes speak volumes.

They hold onto your every move, watch your every reaction, hesitate when you blow out air accommodating his size.

But you lock yours with him when you relax, weakly grasping his jewelry before sliding fingers up his shoulders. When you nod, he pushes in further, both of you sighing in tandem.

And as soon as you whisper you’re ready, all niceties fly out the window.

You’re thrusted up his bed with a determined stroke before he sets a pace, and your head kicks back as soon as a hand captures your neck.

“Look at me,” he commands, and he gives you a light pat on the cheek before squeezing your jaw. “Open up.”

When you do, spit flings from his mouth into yours, and you already sprint to the edge feeling the weight of your heels and the strength of his body. “Fuck!”

You get pat again—rougher this time—before Yoongi goes to choke you a second time. “What do you say?”

“Me?” you pant, tearing the first thought from your throat when he grits it again. “Thank—”

Fuck, his dick is hitting every spot you need it to. It takes you a second to repeat your garbled guess in full, knowing it’s something you would’ve said anyway. “Thank you.”

“Now swallow.”

As soon as he shoves inside, your obedience is your undoing. The skies open to welcome you as your body locks, thighs squeezing his taut sides as he moans through your release. Waves tug you unbelievably far, and you almost lose yourself in the swell before you crash onto shore again.

“Such a whore for me,” Yoongi praises, kicking you back to the very first night and making you melt. When you peel eyelids open, you notice his smile matches yours, and the shared, cherished memory smoothens your gravelly laugh.

“Love when you do that,” you admit, shaking your head at your own strange preferences. “Don’t know why.”

“Me neither.” He spears you again with a cheeky lip bite. “But it’s so fucking hot.”

Your grin can’t be contained, and this is where you wanna be. Right here. Nowhere else in the fucking universe.

“I’m ready,” you pant, and he gives you a brief look of affection—which you shatter with force. “Fuck the shit out of me.”

Yoongi twitches madly inside your core as he expels a pained, breathy laugh. “Goddamn, this isn’t good for me.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He doesn’t waste a second gathering your calves while you ponder what he says. “Hold these pretty legs up for me. There you go.”

When you find the easiest way to do so, you marvel at how shaky and slippery your thighs are, wondering if the rest of you is faring any better.

It’s not.

But you can’t dwell on that now because Yoongi is holding on like he’ll lose you, resuming a delicious pace and smacking your hips into his with the most indecent sounds.

Your whines soon join in, and his hums of satisfaction fuel your ever going flame. Heaven and earth could move and you would remain here, suspended in time as he fills you perfectly with every fast stroke.

“Feel so good—”

When he leaves your cunt, you mewl before he grunts, “Fucking—Get up.”

What is he—

You’re hoisted upward so quickly that you see starlight, not even registering the clanks and shifts of items before he’s spinning to pin you down on a solid surface. Your heels find purchase on the floor but your knees prove unbelievably weak.

What’s—

Oh fuck, are you on his desk?

Your hands retreat until they find an edge to grab, and you moan outright when you feel his fingers slide up your cunt, shoving your thong farther over one side of your ass.

“Yoongi—”

You feel full in an instant, jaw going slack as he shoves you backwards on his cock, praises washing down your back as he pushes down any arches you instinctively make.

“Uh uh. Stay like that.”

“I wanna—” Your words are cut off with a whine as you feel a sting on your ass. “Fuck!”

“There you go.”

The rock of the desk is so strong that every bang against the wall booms loud, equipment sliding back and forth and making you briefly worry if anything will fall.

But this is the most turned on you’ve ever, ever felt, and you have no fucking clue why.

You wonder if he feels the same right before his dark laugh consumes you.

“Goddamn.”

Your hands are grabbed before he shoves you forward, letting more of your body lie on the surface so that he can pin sweaty arms at your back.

Oh, fuck!

Your moans glide across wood as he doesn’t let up, and you don’t even want to know how much drool will exist on his desk when you’re done. Maybe you’ll never be done. Maybe he really will keep you here forever, and you’ll soak his whole—

“Come here.”

He gathers your wrists in one large palm before reaching to grip your chest, hauling you up and securing you against his body by the throat.

And you think your soul just left your earthly vessel.

Pressing you further into him, he grits in your ear,

“Never fucking kicking you out.” His tight stroke launches you across space. “Don’t even think about saying that again.”

When did you— You said— Why don’t you remember—

You go limp when he shoves into you again, but your heels wobble and you focus damn hard on staying upright.

But Yoongi doesn’t give a shit. “You hear me?” When you let out a breathy confirmation, he still isn’t satisfied. A hand pats your cheek before he asks again, “Say it louder.”

“Yes!”

“Good.”

He drops all talk, pistoning in from behind while you take it and take it and love it. Mercifully, he lets your sore arms go to pin you down again, gritted words and curses dancing with your high-pitched sighs.

Fuck, his strokes are so deep that you see into the next universe, and you don’t think your mouth has been shut ever since you made contact with his desk.

Maybe he was more frustrated than you were. He’s using you as stress relief like you intended, and his roughness is a fantastic surprise.

It’s just what you need. Which kicks you into a whole other level of want and the beast inside you transforms yet again.

When Yoongi yanks himself out, you’re quick to spin and shove him backward. As he flops onto the bed, he laughs like sin incarnate when you pounce, his hot hands grabbing at your hips and encouraging your behavior in the nastiest way.

“Let’s go then, pretty bitch.”

“You already fucking know.”

“Show me what I’ve been missing.”

“Don’t fall in love.”

When you sink onto him, Yoongi’s already groaning. But when you start to swivel at a pace that will render you sore, he begins to lose it.

“Fuck.”

His head kicks back, eyes shut and brows pinched to hell. After holding your waist, he has to slap his sheets to squeeze even tighter, chest marred with red under pretty silver.

You make sure every rotation is full, slowly rocking with each circle you make and gritting teeth at how fucking big he is.

Soon, his hisses devolve into groans, and he snaps his head back up to slap your breasts—one after the other before gripping your hips so hard you welcome the pain.

“Fuck, I missed this pussy,” he confesses with husk, and you whine in response as you lower yourself to kiss him deep.

“It missed you, too.”

Coming back up, you dig one of your hands in his mattress while bracing on him with the other, and you close your eyes in bliss as you arch your tits toward his hungry lips.

Just like you want, he chuckles in satisfaction as he suckles, lolling his tongue all around before giving your nipple a hard suck. His noises remind you of lollipops, and you briefly think of a few fun things you could do with those for next time.

But a hand juts up to seize the back of your neck, forcing you to arch in place as he starts thrusting hard.

“Yoongi!”

“Uh huh.”

Before you can talk again, his other hand joins in to choke you just enough, and you find yourself teetering on a precipice. Holy fuck, holy fuck, you’re close again.

“You gonna come?”

A frantic nod.

“Then come.”

As soon as you hear the words, you do exactly that, windpipe released just as you pulse around him incredibly hard. The waves prove tsunamis, and you dangle from their crests before plummeting and tumbling below. Your moan extends as he thrusts erratically through your quivers, encouraging you and digging rough fingers into your hips.

“Again.”

Somehow, that’s enough to make your body obey, and you cry out as you flutter around his trembling cock, hearing him talk you through it but not quite understanding what he’s saying.

Maybe you also choose not to listen because of what you think you hear, and you don’t want to be haunted if you realize later on what you thought you heard wasn’t true.

The world rotates up as Yoongi sits up, and you sling arms around him as he leans back on his hands. Your breath hitches at the new angle he’s filling you at, and your eyes swirl when he coolly, confidently commands,

“Again.”

You can’t you can’t you can’t but you can. Holy fuck apparently you can, and this time, it consumes you so hard your eyes roll back enough to see the past. Past you, insecure and meek and scared to say what they want.

Oh, if they could witness you now.

You shudder impossibly hard around him, coated with his deep chuckles and dashing, ego-ridden grin. It’s all you see before you slump against his chest, heartbeat pounding against yours when you can’t feel any bone in your body.

One breath.

Two breaths.

Two hearts.

One night is enough.

“So fucking perfect.”

“For you,” you wisp out, lost in galaxies. “Only you.”

He can only kiss the side of your head in response, gently lowering you both onto spent cotton and helping you straighten out your muscle-locked legs. When he asks if you’re okay, you can only nod, and he plants another kiss on your temple before sliding off his protection.

Both of you take time to calm down, breaths heavy from what felt like a marathon. But a much better marathon than the one you’ve had to endure over the last three months.

When you lie against his chest, you silently thank him for giving you tonight. It’s the riskiest thing you’ve ever done with him, but you won’t worry about it. Not right now. Not when you feel more at home here than your own house.

Your brother is right. Something is definitely missing over there.

It’s when your pants have relaxed into soft breaths that you nudge your head against Yoongi’s chest, eyes shut in peace as he lazily draws circles on your back.

And the first words he says in minutes inject sparkles into your eyes,

“I need to re-up this damn cat’s food.”

Oh, shit!

Your outright squeal is surely coming out too loud but you don’t care. Don’t care don’t care don’t care not when Yoongi just gave away so many different things.

This man leaned right into the whole thing.

“I knew it!” You proclaim in triumph, smacking his thigh while hearing a very elongated ‘shut up’ at your side. “Tried to hide it from me all these months? Somebody’s getting soft.”

“First off.”

“Uh huh.”

God. If only you both could go on one of those late night shopping trips he talked about before. Maybe you could’ve gotten plenty of things. Like some little cat toys, or extra storage cabinets for your clothes.

Yeah. Stuff like that.

“I’m her favorite.”

Your scoff is immediate as you hoist yourself up, leaning on your hand and regretting the burn in your arm. “Only because you gatekeeped her.”

A soft disagreement precedes a more prominent, “Won’t even matter.”

Yoongi looks so at peace when you stare, and your voice calms to match as it floats down, “You took care of her.”

When he only smiles, you decide that this is how you want him to be all the time. Content and outright glowing, fireflies dancing in his eyes.

Does he feel at home, too?

“She was gonna be your surprise,” he finally murmurs. “For getting the gig.”

Heart and tear ducts full, you lower yourself to tenderly press lips to his. And, since it seems to work for you, his forehead is what you decide to kiss next.

Then you pull away.

Wondering why he’s not smiling anymore.

“Come here.”

You blink, lying back down to snuggle against his side. When his arm wraps around your shoulder, it's only then that you’re aware you still have shoes on. A clean person, you hope Yoongi doesn’t mind them touching his sheets.

But maybe it’s a tad too late for that concern.

“How are you gonna get home?”

Oh, right. You use his chest to scratch an itch in your nose before responding, “I’ll call a ride in the morning. He’ll be out cold until noon at the earliest.”

“K.”

“Did I keep you from anything?”

A puff flies out his nostrils. “Kinda late for that, huh.”

“True,” you sigh, berating yourself for thinking a lot of things too late. “Sorry.”

“But no, we were finishing up when I called.”

“Okay… Did I scare you?” You lift your eyes then, because you need to know for sure.

When he levels a look, you curse at his quiet confirmation. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“S’ok.”

“I just… It hurt tonight.” Emotion washes over your face before you bury it. “Really hurt.”

After a light squeeze, Yoongi gently rolls you over, resting his head exactly where your hand clutches your chest. When you move your fingers, he kisses that same spot, and your heart stops. “How about now.”

Feeling the deepest pain you’ve ever felt in your life, you cradle his head with a whisper,

“Maybe try that one more time.”

And he does, not looking at your tears as he sits up to peer down the bed.

When he scoots down to the edge, your breath catches as he holds a heel in sure hands, his back beautiful even with the scars. While he works through leather straps, he starts to speak,

“I always do, babe.”

Blinking, you ask what he means as he slips your shoe off with ease.

“Miss you.”

As he tenderly holds the other, you gulp in oxygen to quell the sear around your eyes. “I just… Wasn’t sure,” you admit, voice wavering.

His hair falls forward when he sighs, and his palms feel way too relaxing to just be taking your heels off. Even now, it feels like he’s revering you. And you truly don’t know how you deserve any of this.

“That’s my fault.”

Throat small, you’re swift to reassure him. “No, no. I need to just suck it up. I’m sorry.”

After freeing your other foot, he rubs it without prompt, and you don’t know how to deal with someone giving you this level of care.

“Just a little bit longer, doll,” he says, and you admire his profile when he turns. “I’m sorry.”

“You gave me tonight.”

When he swallows, you reassure him with all the support you can give,

“A little longer is nothing.”

A moment passes by before he finally moves, and you catch a hint of a smile right before he faces his disheveled to hell desk again.

Deciding that conversation has concluded, you crack the atmosphere with a joke, “You liked whatever happened over there, huh.”

Immediately, Yoongi’s shoulders bob with a laugh before he admits, “Fucking you on my desk? I’ve wanted to do that for months.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. “There’s a lot of shit I’ve wanted us to do for months.”

Us.

Thoroughly giddy and full of life again, you egg him on. “Oh? Like what?”

Finally, he looks over his shoulder with a grin, and you scoff in frustration at his answer,

“What’s the fun in telling you?”

“Ass!”

While you’re getting ready to shower, he leans against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“We have a game next week.”

As you fetch a towel from his cabinet, you clarify, “The championship, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll be there,” you confirm, walking away to slip the thick cloth over its rack. “I can’t believe it’s still going.”

“Same. But there’ve been a lot of delays, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Your hand feels out the water, satisfied with its temperature. “I meant your win streak but whatever.”

And you squeal when he rushes forward, shutting the glass with a wobbly thud before he can get to you. When you stick out a childish tongue, you laugh under the spray, curve slowly, curiously, softly fading when he simply keeps staring.

What’s he doing?

You don’t move as he slowly slides the entrance open again, and you don’t dare breathe as he leans inside to kiss your wet lips.

When you tenderly take one of his wrists and pull, he obliges without hesitation, and you take another shower with the man that sets fireworks off in your soul.

An hour later, filled with food and laughter—and slight disappointment when you couldn’t find your surprise near his door—you occupy his bed with full bellies and fresh minds.

As he lies on your chest, you think this is better, because it gives you time to think about things. And tell him about others.

You finally tell him what all happened with Jungkook, to which he listens without a single word. When you can’t seem to shut up about your job, he doesn’t stop you, and you adore the way he cuddles you under faint moonlight cutting through his window.

“Oh, wait,” you stop, feeling like you’ve talked his head off by now. “What did you call about?”

“Huh? Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“We finally have a confirmed date. For that album,” Yoongi rumbles against the shirt he let you borrow. “I was gonna invite you to the release party.”

Whoa, what the fuck? “Me?”

He chuckles soft, and you wonder if he can guess how shocked you look. “Yes, you. All of y’all.”

At least it’s everyone. But at the same time, you still hesitate. “That won’t be weird?”

“Nah. You can bring anyone you want, so. I was assuming you’d bring your friends.”

“Ah, I see.”

You didn’t mean to sound disappointed. You truly aren’t. But Yoongi pushes up to comfort you anyway, planting kisses along your skin, your neck, and finally your lips.

“It won’t be the only one,” he promises. “We got time.”

“Duh,” you giggle. “And I’ll be at all of them. Whether you like it or not.”

Yoongi regards you before laying his weight back on your chest. And you find it strange how familiar his body already feels. How you’re already attuned to every way his legs fit against your own, or how you would know it’s him solely based on how his chest molds with yours.

You start mindlessly caressing his hair, fingers weaving through a dark sea of strands before smoothing over its surface.

And you start to hum.

It’s not really any song, just notes you start stringing together at random. You build up before you dip back down, staying in a comfortable middle range and dancing between similar tones.

You stop from time to time, trying to figure out what would sound best next and changing up the cadence. Always coming back to a central theme because it’s what you deem best.

And you’re so comfortable that you completely forgot he’s lying right under your chin.

“Shit, was I too loud?”

He just shakes his head, arm pressing a bit more into your side.

“Not at all.”

So you keep going, humming more familiar tunes and phrases, softly giggling when Yoongi huffs at the way you drum on his head.

And that’s how the night goes on, with you at peace and him in your embrace.

Never noticing how the shirt you're wearing collects rain.

When dawn breaks, you part with one final, heavenly kiss.

Yoongi watches until you get in the ride he politely called for you, and you spend the whole drive with eyes filled with light.

You can do this. Just a little longer, he said.

For him, you can do anything.

But when you get home, your brother occupies the foyer as soon as you open the front door.

And you feel the world shatter and crash at your feet.

“I think,” he states, “There’s something you wanna tell me.”

—

tbc. :)

—

a ha ha... what do we think/like! | wanna support with a 🍊?

A/N: i’m so swirly-eyed that i don’t even know what to say here other than i’m sorry for throwing that ending at y’all! busted pt. 2 is gonna be its own huge part at this point so i had no choice but to end it here (originally it was gonna end before they went back to yoongi’s but i love y’all too much dlkfjdsklf) A/N 2: gonna say this again: enormous thank you to everyone supporting this whole journey, whether that’s liking/commenting/reblogging/messaging, recommending this series to people, telling me how it makes you feel or what it means to you, or even wanting a physical copy of the series like😭 that’s surreal to me and makes me wanna keep working harder. A/N 3: as far as feedback, i would absolutely love any type y’all wanna give. this chapter took all of my brainpower and the next one is gonna take just as much haahahahdksfks so any encouragement would be wonderful! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ three tangerines masterlist ⇥ masterlist

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

Text

Warnings: 18+ mdni. established relationship. fem!reader. aged up kat. anal.

a/n: i finally gave in and wrote this filth, ok. it's been on my mind for a while, please forgive me lol.

---

THE moan Katsuki lets out is guttural.

He’s sweating like crazy on top of the navy blue sheets as he pants, the lust-driven look in his eyes purely male. Releasing a small sigh, the freshly-turned twenty-six-year-old smirks at the feverish warmth to surround him by the time his heavy cock sinks fully inside you.

Being balls deep inside your tight ass is pure bliss. All lubed up and twitching in delight to really relish the lewd birthday gift you give him every 365 days, and which he's so very impatient to receive, Katsuki doesn't mind at all that he's one year closer to thirty as he chuckles and shoves himself even deeper carefully.

The short "Hah... Fuck yeah, baby." is purely derisive by the time his entire length experiences the pleasant tightness of the tiny hole you don't allow him to fuck all that often. You're all stretched out as you accept him. He's so lucky.

You squeak when he pushes further inside you slowly; sweat-coated body trembling in the firm reverse cowgirl position he holds you in. Your legs are squeezed together and bent at the knees. He's pushing them further against your chest with the help of his rough hands resting on the back of your thighs, just so that he can actually impale you on his fucking cock. You feel like you're going to explode from how badly he wants in, in, in.

He's relentless.

"Ki," you whisper, brow furrowing at the pang of hot ache to sear through you when he angles himself better and pushes even further. "Easy, baby. I-I know you're excited, but... We gotta take it sl-... Oh, my fucking god, s-slow...! Go slow, baby. Please."

"Mhmmm, goin' slow and easy, pretty... Anythin' y'want," he replies dazedly. His words have nearly become an incoherent slur and twist of tongue from how good you're making him feel, but all the bitter liquor he's drank at the small get-together you've surprised him with - and which he pretended he hated - might be one to blame as well.

After all, the vanilla cake you got him for his 26th birthday was sickeningly cute on purpose; entirely covered in rich buttercream icing and drizzled with colourful sprinkles, which he swears gave him a headache whenever he looked at them for too long.

You've even went as far as to make him blow out the candles that had been propped up in the middle of the giant scribble of icing, spelling out a dramatic: ‘Happy birthday, Katsuki!’ in bright red colouring.

All of it is clearly a symbol of your loving, albeit taunting relationship - he knows it is. You buy the stupid cake for him just to be a menace every year, but he still ate every last bite of the giant piece you handed him at his super secret surprise party - the one that isn't even that much of a surprise, after the third annual time it's happened - even though the bridge of his nose wrinkled in annoyance during the entirety of him chewing the silly thing.

The presents he received from his friends were okay. The texts that kept making his cell phone beep were annoying. The long phone call he had to endure from his mother and father so that they could congratulate their son on turning one year older in his outrageously busy life was outright pesky. Truth be told, Katsuki felt low-key thankful by the time his birthday at long last came to an end and he was able to drop his tired body into bed.

But he feels good now - getting to do anal with you. So good, in fact, that he'd even consider enduring all of the birthday antics you tend to pull on him as some twisted form of a sick joke. Actually, he'd let you watch him suffer in his little party hat, and would let you take photos of him blowing out the shitty candles, if it meant that he would be spoiled rotten like this at least once every few days, every week, every month, every year; not just on April goddamn 20th.

He's just that greedy. That horny for that tight peach of yours.

"Ah, fuck... Ki!" You whine now; this desperate, prolonged sort of sob that yanks him right out of his thoughts as you say, "You feel s'big inside me... So, so big."

"It's 'cause you feel so damn good, babe," he compliments in reply, the tone of his voice so utterly strained. "You've got me s'hard that it makes my fuckin' dick hurt." It's true. He's ready to bust a nut so embarrassingly quick from how good it feels. It's a lucky thing that he's as stubborn as he is to resist it.

There's a wildfire in your eyes that he knows is there, despite that he can't see it when you grit out, "Well, your dick hurts me!" It hurts me so good.

"Yeah?" he says, unable to wipe the crooked, lazy grin from his face now. His hands grab a better hold of your thighs, calloused fingers digging deep into the plush flesh so that he can keep you still when you start to squirm. "Well, it ain't my fault you've got such a fuckable ass, huh? I wish I could see how pretty you look like this... With my dick up that tight hole of yours."

You're about to bite back a snarky remark, though nothing comes out except for a slutty moan the moment his thick fingers find your clit. A waterfall of filthy curses he rarely hears you voice leaves your pouty lips and sticks to ceiling of your shared bedroom at the divine friction he gives you now. It seems that he isn't the only one that gets to be spoiled this year.

He starts to rub lazy circles on the cute, sensitive button - all languid and precise, until the hole that's empty of him starts to flutter in response, and you begin to beg him to start pounding into you so that you can be filled up to the brim with his warm seed as soon as possible. The anticipation makes your legs literally shake. You're barely able to keep it together - and this fast, too.

Katsuki listens to your high-pitched pleas that grow both in fervour and necessity as more and more time passes. He's mindful as his hips begin to rut into you, keenly listening to the lewd squelching noises the lube produces with that heavy pat, pat, pat, and your heavy breathing when he gets an even better angle and strikes home. The clench you give him in response is so potent that he's about ready to lose his fucking mind.

The entire room smells like caramel from how much he's sweating. Salt is literally dribbling down both of his temples, but he still keeps going. He just can't stop. Not when you're about to cum from having his big, fat cock inside your ass.

"Gonna-... Gonna cum soon! Fuck, fuck, fuck - I-I'm so close, Kat."

"Yeah? I gotcha, baby... I gotcha. Imma take care of you. Gonna make you cum, promise."

Your curves jiggle against his abdomen as you take his dick like a fucking champ and keep on bouncing; nearly squealing in a pitch so high it makes his ears hurt when he pinches your puffy clit and turns you so overstimulated that you're nearly ready to squirt and gush all over him. As you squeeze your eyes shut and tip over the edge only minutes later, plunging into an orgasm of a different kind, that you only dare to experience once a year as a treat for your brute of a boyfriend.

He follows not a moment after you've floated up into the heavens and turned brain-dead. Everything feels fuzzy inside your mind as he fills you up with his cum and lets out another broken moan and a grunt of an especially nasty curse, but the warm ropes of white are pleasant as they coat your walls. You can tell he's been barely withholding his own climax; the entirety of his body feels so stiff and hot underneath you. Even his jaw is clenched so tightly that it clicks when he snaps it shut. It's just a different kind of experience, after all. Everything is more intense, hence why his eyes are rolling back and his head is sent tipping into the mattress.

"Maybe-... Fuck, oh my..." You suck in a sharp breath to recollect your buzzing thoughts as the words fade away into silence and you stick to his heaving chest until you're practically glued together. He's cummed so much that his cum leaks out of you even if he's still inside you, dick slowly going soft and tender. The milky release is drooling right down to his balls by the time you finally manage to finish your sentence, "Maybe we should take a picture next year, mm? Since you wanna see me so bad."

"I'd like that," he whispers quietly, pulling you closer and kissing your naked shoulder gently. "I'd like that a whole fuckin' lot, baby."

It's true. Katsuki may not like being the birthday boy and the attention it brings, but it’s different when he gets to spend it with you. The presents you give him on his birthday are always the best, after all.

To say that he can barely wait for the one he'll get for his 27th would be an understatement.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #mha smut

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asliceofzosan · 6 months

Text

zoro doesn't care if people forget his birthday. he really doesn't. but when it's his own boyfriend who doesn't acknowledge his birthday at all... that's a whole different thing entirely. (zosan modern au for zoro's birthday!)

Zoro never understood the hype around birthdays.

It's just another year. 19 didn't feel that different to being 18. 21 didn't feel that different to being 20. He's pretty sure it's going to be the same all the way up to his 80's. He understands the importance of milestones and whatnot but other than that, celebrating his birthday was an afterthought.

It's the big 26 today — one year closer to his thirties — but again, it's just an ordinary day. He woke up, showered for once, and headed straight for the kitchen where his boyfriend was already cooking breakfast and dancing to whatever new K-POP song came out. One of the perks of moving in with Sanji was the early morning entertainment Zoro gets everyday.

Zoro leans against the kitchen island, just watching Sanji hum along to words Zoro can't understand. He loves moments like this. He developed a habit of watching Sanji every time he isn't looking. It's his favorite way to start the day. It gets even better when Sanji notices him, his face lighting up brighter than the sun, and throws his arms around Zoro in their daily good morning embrace.

However, this time, Sanji just looks over his shoulder with a shocked expression.

"Oh, you're already awake!" Sanji exclaims and he steps aside from his work station to reveal he was packing up bento boxes. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up until 10 since you're off work today."

"Thought it would be a good day to wake up early," Zoro says slowly, brows furrowed at each passing second that Sanji doesn't give him his morning hug and kiss. Zoro doesn't think he's clingy, he'd murder you if you said so, but they have a routine. And the routine includes morning hugs and kisses until they're both breathless. Why isn't Sanji bounding over to him and showering his face with kisses and squeezing the daylights out of him? Was he in the twilight zone?

Sanji just keeps on arranging the bento boxes carefully, labelling them with post-it notes and his signature sparkly gel pen that Nami gave him as a joke gift. Zoro stays rooted to the spot, patience waning the longer Sanji doesn't kiss him.

"I was called in today to cover some shifts at the Baratie," Sanji starts to say as he maneuvers his way to the fridge. Zoro scowls when Sanji passes him and doesn't even peck him on the cheek. His voice is a little muffled when he places the bento boxes into the fridge, explaining that he might be out the whole day and won't be back until 10PM earliest.

10PM. Earliest.

"I already pre-made your meals for the day. Breakfast is warming up in the oven right now." Eventually, Sanji does end up giving Zoro a little peck on the cheek, but Zoro felt himself subconsciously chasing after the cook's lips as he moves away. Sanji gives him a warm smile. Zoro thinks he's about to have an aneurysm.

"Sorry, I can't eat breakfast with you today." And to his credit, Sanji looks genuinely apologetic. "The Baratie's gonna be packed. You'll be okay by yourself, right?"

Zoro knew that not making a big deal out of his birthday was his own damn fault but this just seems... off. In every way possible.

Because of all the people in the world, how is it that Sanji has forgotten his birthday?

Sanji, the man who marks every major and minor holiday on his google calendar so he has an excuse to cook a big feast for his friends? Sanji, the man who cried his eyes out when he found out Zoro never had a proper birthday party because he understands the feeling of not being celebrated. Sanji, who loves rom-coms, choose-your-own-adventure interactive novels, and thinks that the way food is arranged on the plate can clearly indicate one's emotions.

Sanji, the biggest sap in history, has forgotten his boyfriend's birthday.

"Zoro?" Sanji's voice slices through the fog of confusion slowly filling up his brain. The hand cradling his face forces him back to reality but all he could do was stare longingly at Sanji, begging him with his eyes to not go. Sanji runs his thumb gently over his cheek and Zoro nuzzles into his hand like a stubborn child. Sanji chuckles.

"I'll be back, you big softie." His reassurance doesn't sit well with Zoro but he only manages to nod. Sanji leans down to kiss Zoro, too chaste and too fast, before pulling away far too quickly. Zoro watches miserably as Sanji puts his jacket on, grabs his keys, and bids him goodbye.

Zoro manages to meet him at the entryway, his hand catching Sanji's arm before he leaves. Sanji tilts his head at him, smiling at him in the way he does when Zoro is being stubborn. "What is it, marimo?"

Zoro stares down Sanji with his good eye, willing and pleading him to remember. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sanji blinks. Zoro blinks. Then, Sanji smiles and Zoro thinks he actually gets it.

Until Sanji pulls him into a searing kiss. When they pull away, Sanji rubs their noses together and lets go.

"Can't forget the goodbye kiss!" Sanji places one more kiss on Zoro's nose then leaves a very dazed, very irritated Zoro at the entryway.

from: cap'n luffy

zoooorrooooooo happy birthday !!!!!!!!!! zoro zoro zorooooo have a good day ^_^

from: witch of the sea

happy birthday you big lug <3 as my present, your debt is reduced by 10% ;)

from: chopper

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZORO! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GET SICK TODAY OKAY?!?

from: ussop :^\

BIG 26 ! HBD MY MAN ! you don't look a day over 19 ^_^ honest!! maybe they'll even ID you at the club HAHAHHAHAHAHA

from: robin

Happiest birthday, Zoro. I've deposited birthday booze money into your bank account. Have fun.

from: franky B)

HAVE A SUUUUUPPPEEERR BDAY BRO ! My bday gift isnt ready yet tho i still need to tweek it bUT ! ur gonna love it!! trust !

from: brook

zoro_birthday song_final_real final_absolutely final.mp3

from: jinbe

Have a fruitful birthday today, Zoro. You only turn 26 once!

Time ticks by and Zoro reads and re-reads all the birthday greetings from his friends. Many of them even sent multiple messages in their group chat. It mostly consisted of Luffy and Chopper spamming the chat with birthday gifs. It eased Zoro's racing mind just a little. But he can't help himself from opening up his chat logs with Sanji...

And still nothing.

Just a simple 'hbd marimo' from him would have eased his worries. But Sanji hasn't even messaged him once throughout the entire day. Usually, he'd send a couple of pictures to prove that he's alive. One time, he event sent a selfie while something caught on fire behind him. That's Zoro's wallpaper right now.

It really, really shouldn't be bothering him this much that Sanji hasn't said anything about his birthday. It's also not hard to forget Zoro's birthday. It's literally 11/11. It could not have been a more convenient date.

But Sanji was always the more romantic one of the two of them. Zoro can be accidentally romantic, sure, but Sanji likes grand gestures and showering others with love in every way possible.

Sanji is the last person on earth to forget Zoro's birthday.

He may have never understood the hype around celebrating his birthday. He hasn't had a party since his 18th. But there's something that's mildly irritating that his own boyfriend just straight up treats it like any other day. And not only that, he just leaves Zoro alone too. To celebrate his birthday miserably in their empty apartment with a box of reheated leftovers on his lap.

He doesn't want to admit that he's hurt.

But he is.

However, before he could pick up his phone again to call Sanji and give him a piece of his mind, it starts to ring. He scrambles to answer it without even checking the caller ID. The relief that washes over him when he hears Sanji's voice on the other line was indescribable.

"Cook," and it really shouldn't have come out this desperate. But Zoro is really hanging on by a thread here. "Are you going to tell me something?"

"Yeah! I can't believe I completely forgot!" Sanji's laugh is like a balm to Zoro's anxious conscience but it immediately slips away when Sanji continues.

"I forgot my phone at home."

Zoro almost growls in frustration. "I'm borrowing Patty's right now. Can you do me a favor and look for a recipe that I saved on my notes app? It's super important."

"What could be so much more important than..." Zoro trails off, managing to actually find Sanji's phone on the kitchen counter. Right where he was just this morning. "I fuckin' found it." He taps on the screen, his heart pinching when he sees that Sanji's lockscreen is a candid photo of the two of them taken the exact day they finally got together. Sanji's head was tucked against Zoro's shoulder, his cheeks flushed red, laughing and laughing at something Zoro can't remember anymore. And Zoro... was just looking at Sanji like he was his whole world.

And he still is.

Maybe that's why Sanji forgetting hurts even more.

"What's your passcode?" He grumbles, putting his own phone on speaker.

"I'm surprised you don't know it," Sanji says, footsteps seeming to echo on the other line. "It's pretty hard to forget."

"Contrary to popular opinion, I respect your privacy sometimes Curly."

"How sweet," Sanji says sarcastically. Zoro can practically hear the eyeroll. "But seriously. You know the passcode."

"No I fucking don't?" He exclaims incredulously, glaring at his phone in the hopes Sanji can probably feel it too. "What the fuck are you on about, cook? I don't know your damn passcode!"

"Yes, you do." The fact that Sanji isn't yelling back like he usually does sits uneasily in Zoro's stomach. "Fine, I'll give you a hint since my little marimo needs some help with his homework." Zoro grumbles that he's not a child but Sanji just ignores it. "It's related to the most important person in my life."

Zoro furrows his brows. "Zeff?"

Sanji chuckles. "Try again."

"Um," He scratches his head this time. "Nami?"

"As much as I wish that were true," Sanji sighs dramatically and it was Zoro's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not her. Come on now, mosshead. You know who it is."

The way Sanji's voice softened made something click in Zoro's brain. With a long shaky breath, Zoro took Sanji's phone, stared at the lockscreen one more time, and inputted a significant number.

111197

November 11, 1997

Then Sanji's phone unlocked.

"Did you get it?"

Zoro couldn't concentrate on Sanji's voice. Because staring right at him was the picture Sanji used as his homescreen.

A beautifully edited candid picture of Zoro, his face glowing against a gorgeous sunset, the light shining through his hair in an otherworldly haze. There was text edited above his chest and it read, clear as day:

Happy Birthday, my everything

"Can you open the door for me, love?"

As if on autopilot, Zoro walked to the door, Sanji's phone still in his hand, and he opened it to see his boyfriend standing right there. His face was illuminated by the glow of a single candle sitting on top of a simple vanilla cupcake. Surrounding that cupcake was a plate full of carefully arranged sushi, onigiri, grilled meats, and dipping sauces.

And written with an elegant hand at the edge of the plate, with something Zoro can somehow identify as a thickened oyster sauce was the same thing he read on Sanji's home screen wallpaper:

Happy Birthday, my everything

"Did you really think that I would forget?" Sanji says, the love in his eyes shining through the light of the candle. "You guessed the passcode, didn't you?"

"You piece of shit." Zoro's voice cracked only slightly (only slightly!) "I'm gonna fucking murder you, I swear to god."

"You don't believe in god," Sanji says matter of factly, reaching up to cup Zoro's face with one hand. Zoro scoffs but there's no lick of malice to it. Sanji then presents the cupcake to him and with another roll of his eye, Zoro blows the candle out, much to Sanji's amusement.

He knows he's supposed to be making a wish or whatever but he doesn't. Everything he's ever wished for is right here, standing in their doorway, with a plate of food made by his own hands. Hands that he kisses every night. Hands that cradle his face like Zoro is something to be treasured.

Hands that hold his, no matter what life throws at them.

Stepping into the apartment, Sanji places the plate of food on the table at the entryway, then drapes his arms over Zoro's shoulders. Zoro's hands find Sanji's waist immediately.

And finally, Sanji says the words Zoro's been waiting to hear all day.

"Happy Birthday, Zoro."

Then, Sanji kisses him, his lips soft and his hands warm as they tangle into Zoro's hair. Zoro deepens the kiss, thinking that maybe celebrating his birthday isn't so bad after all.

#niki's fics: remember the 11th of november #zosan #one piece #zosan modern au #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece fanfiction #happy birthday to our favorite marimo!#roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji

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xoxoamyas · 5 months

Text

Christmas Surprise <3

rating : fluff, reader gets called petnames [ darling, love, dear ]

king!wilbur x royalty!gn!reader [ use of you/yours, no name mentioned ] [ married wilbur and reader ]

☆ . wilbur decides it's finally time to give you a surprise with a long-awaited gift. all the while, sweet shenanigans ensure between you two. <3

note : if i don't get this out now, i never will. consider it my christmas gift/special from me to you. i really wanted to do a royalty type thing, and this was made, i hope you enjoy it [ i may make more king!wilbur in the future, i've been brain rotting over him for a minute ]

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

“Oh, darling~,” the familiar voice calls for you, the door to the main bedroom opening. The man you loved to bits and pieces peaking around the door with a wide grin like a kid who just got handed candy.

“Oh no, what are you up to now?” You ask, closing the book you had propped open in your lap, gently setting it to the side.

“Nothing you need to worry about, love.” Wilbur moves with practised ease, hands behind his back as he steps to your side of the bed. Holding a hand out in offering to you, which you warily take.

He makes you laugh when he lightly pulls you up, carefully holding your hand up as his other arm moves to be around your waist and pull you closer. You use him mostly for stability, your free hand moving to his upper arm before his shoulder.

“What do you want, Wil?” You ask as he takes lead in a little dancing, lightly stepping you both in a circle.

“Am I not allowed to love you, my dear?” He's being extra cheesy, it seems, him twirling you around and moving to lightly hold both his arms around your waist. Pulling you close and giving you a chance to wrap your arms around his neck, which you take.

“You are, it's just very sudden.” You lightly laugh, moving to gently press your forehead against his own. Wilbur carefully swayed you both in the same spot for a long moment, content to remain like that for an eternity, even.

“I have something for you, my love.” Wilbur suddenly breaks the silence, quickly pressing a kiss to your nose before letting you go. Hands moving to hold your own with a grin once more. “You need to close your eyes, though. It's a surprise.”

“Wil..” There's a caution to your tone, Wilbur being fairly.. Well, while his surprises were usually sweet, they weren't always thought out. A guard had once nearly lost his hand, many maids had fallen over midst putting things in a room together, the list could go on.

“Don't look at me like that. I swear it's all been planned this time. No lives were lost, and egos were saved in the making of this surprise.” He's got a serious yet playful expression, a slight grin on his lips as he looks at you. ”Now, please, will you close your eyes and trust me?” He's quick to stick his lip out in a pout, instantaneously giving the puppy dog eyes to go with.

You eventually sigh, crumbling and giving in since you just can't find it in you to tell him no. “You're so dumb. But if this is another garden catastrophe, I'm sleeping in one of the guest rooms and taking all the pillows with me.” Wilbur immediately chimes, like a kid on Christmas who just got every candy and toy known to mankind.

“It won't be, just close your eyes, and I'll show you.” He says, wasting no time to press a peck to your forehead, making you smile.

You make sure both Wilbur's hands are on your own before finally closing your eyes and trusting him. He starts guiding you out of the room, being sure you don't walk into anything as he walks you through the halls with ease.

“You couldn't have just had me close my eyes after letting me follow you?” You ask in a teasing tone, realizing whatever the surprise was is a little bit away from your shared room.

“It would take away from the anticipation!” You can hear the grin in Wilbur's voice. “Alright, hold on and stand right here.” He finally stops the long awaited walk, carefully placing his hands along your arms and moving you just slightly so that you're facing a different direction. “I'm going to walk a bit away from you, but I'm still here.” He lightly expresses, pressing a kiss to your cheek before leaving you there.

You wait almost nervously, half tempted to just open your eyes without prompt. You were just about to when you heard Wilbur say to open them some odd feet in front of you, to which you do, blinking your eyes open a bit.

He had guided you towards the great hall, though it was more decorated than anything. Slowly stepping mind, you looked and paid more attention than you usually did. A real tree Wilbur likely paid someone to bring in was in the corner, decorated with garland, leafs, and what looked like golden tinsel. A few wrapped presents already beneath it, as well.

The fireplace was decorated up as well, some stockings hanging with mini winter decorations atop the mantel. The one in the centre being your favourite by far, it having been the little figures you used for yours and Wilbur's Wedding. It typically stayed on display in the entrance hall; A display of our love and bound fates, he had called it.

Other than that, there were random little things along the walls, likely placed up by the maids of the castle. A wreath that had yet to be hung up on an ottoman within the room.

When your eyes finally flickered to Wilbur, he stood there with a loving gaze, arms behind his back as he waited as patiently as possible. You had grown to know enough of his tells to recognize that he's nervous for your response. It just makes you give a soft smile.

“What's all this for?” You ask, finally stepping closer and standing more in front of him. “I mean- I love it, but why?” You can't help but ask, watching as Wilbur shifts on his feet and brings his arms around to his front, holding a small box in his hands.

“Well, I thought since Christmas was just around the corner, we should decorate.” He grins a bit more, clearly happy to know that you loved it. “I got this for you, too. Well, for us technically, but it's with you in mind, my love.” He's got that lovestruck expression on his face again as he carefully holds the small box out to you.

Your eyes flicker between Wilbur and the box, feeling nothing but warm as you gently take the box from him. Lightly opening it and giving a sound of awe, a pair of wedding bands placed within it.

“Oh, Wil.” Your eyes flicker to Wilbur, a look of adoration on your features before rushing forwards and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I take it you like it?” He asks, breaking out into his own smile as his arms move to wrap around your waist. “I know that it's long overdue, and I have no excuse, but-”

“I don't care that I got it just now, I just love that you put the thought into it.” You didn't hesitate to cut him off, promptly pulling him into a kiss right after.

He smiled into it, quick to lean in and kiss you in return. Breaking it off after a moment of enjoying it, resting his forehead against your own with a grin on his face.

“We can stand here continuing to look like morons or we can go talk the caterers into making some cookies.” You suggest after a moment, hoping for the later.

Wilbur lightly chuckles, “At least we look like morons in love.” He presses a sweet kiss to your nose before moving to guide your arms away from his neck. “What if I told you I already convinced the caterers to make cookies and more?” He asks with a smile, gently taking the wedding band with one hand and your left hand with the other, gently sliding the band onto your ring finger before doing the same for himself with the other band.

“What are we doing standing here then? Let's go!” You grasp both his hands into your own with an excited smile of your own, pulling along.

“We're going, we're going-!” Wilbur laughed out, following after you happily.

#amyas writes #x reader #christmas #christmas fluff #fluff #wilbur fluff #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you

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plbsims · 9 months

Text

— Kentai Pants (Adult & Child) - GIFT by Plbsims

Kentai Pants (Adult & Child)

original mesh | 20 swatches | all lod’s | hq compatible

download (Free Gift)

Thank you so much for the 20k + Followers on Tumblr, i never thought i could reach this goal when i started sharing my Custom Content. It's been over 5 years since i uploaded for the first time and i would never think i'd reach such a huge goal. So this little gift is for those who support me whether it be sharing it, leaving a like on my posts, commenting on my posts, subscribing to Patreon, following me on instagram, etc. Thank you so much every single of you, for all the support for all over these years, i can't express how gratefull and happy i am for having all of you following and supporting my Custom Content. Thank yooooooou from the deep of my heart! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Do Not share my cc public before me, all my CC are available after a month.

Do Not convert my CC to other games but The Sims (ex: GTA V, IMVU, SL).

Do not Re-Upload my CC (Youtube packs, Sims4Planet, VK).

Recolors are allowed, just give me the credits.

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mendeshoney · 7 months

Note

if you're still taking requests i love the enemies to lovers idea with mat and maybe a mix up/your choice of "You snore. Loudly." and "I do not snore, you liar." and "I don't understand how I slept so good last night." and the "I slept really good last night." "That makes one of us."

apologies as this one took me a minute because I ended up using them all since I apparently have no restraint (womp womp)

enemies to lovers & one bed prompts w/ mat barzal

The sun wakes you up after what feels like an hour of sleep, and you can already feel the lingering exhaustion beginning to seep into your bones. Breathing out a sigh of frustration through your nose, you manage to make it all of five blissful seconds into the relatively quiet morning before your peace is disturbed.

Again.

"Bout time you got up, Sunshine."

The exhaustion is quickly replaced with irritation as your skin heats up, and against your better judgement, you blink your eyes open, annoyed to find Mat still in bed beside you, the pillow wall you'd built between you still intact, one of his elbows resting on it as he scrolls through his phone.

You fight hard not to scowl.

'Good morning to you too, asshole' is what you want to say, but instead you say nothing, pushing another deep breath through your nose and squeezing your eyes shut again.

"I slept really good last night." He muses aloud, and the cheery tone in his voice grates at your nerves even more.

"That makes one of us." You murmur, and Mat either ignores you or doesn't hear you, because he carries on like you didn't utter a single word.

As per usual.

"Ethan said we're all leaving to get breakfast in an hour," he says, "You can shower first, if you'd like."

The offer is nice...and suspicious...but you don't allow yourself to ruminate over it for too long. Without a word to Mat, you get up and gather your things, then head straight for the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

When the lock snicks, he calls out "In your dreams, Sunshine!" from inside the bedroom, and it takes your last bit of patience and restraint to not open the door and fling your hairbrush at his head.

Still, you promised Lenasia that you'd be nice to Mat this weekend, so as much as you wanted to fight back against Mat like you normally did, you couldn't.

It was Lenasia and Ethan's engagement celebration, and as a gift to Ethan, since he was his best man, Mat rented out this ridiculously large cabin for the festivities over the long weekend, and all the bridesmaids and groomsmen had been split up among the many rooms.

Since you and Mat were the only single people in the wedding party, you had no choice but to share it. Looking back, you wish you fought it just a little, because just last night, the first night of the weekend, you'd found out against your will that Mat snored like a motorcycle and had a pension for cuddling.

You'd had to rebuild your pillow wall twice the previous night and debated more times than you'd care to admit on whether or not to take one of those pillows and suffocate him with it to get him to stop snoring.

At least he'd been kind enough to let you shower first.

So as a small, minuscule, microscopic favor in return, you deliberately did not use all the hot water.

Once you finished your morning skincare, got dressed, and brushed your hair, you unlocked the door and headed back into the bedroom.

Mat was still in bed, laying with one arm behind his head, the other still scrolling on his phone, but locked his phone and sat up the second you came back.

You're silent as you put away your things and Mat gathers his own, and when you turn back to find your phone, you see Mat stretching as he glances at the bed curiously.

"What?" You ask, proud that there's none of your usual heat in your tone.

"I don't understand how I slept so good last night." He says, "I don't think I've slept that good in a long time."

The snort leaves you before you can find your restraint, and now it's Mat's turn to scowl at you.

"What?" He snaps.

"You slept that good because you create your own white noise." You snap back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You snore. Loudly."

Mat looks fully offended. "I do not snore, you liar."

"You snore like a motorcycle at bike week." You insist.

"Well you constantly flip around in your sleep." He fires back, and now you're both scowling.

"I do not!" You state, indignant.

"Like a pancake." Mat states smugly, then points at the pillow wall. "I had to wake up three times to put the pillows back because your flipping kept moving them out of the way."

That's definitely not true, and you tell him as much. "I was the one who put those pillows back after you kept trying to climb over the wall to cuddle me."

Mat scoffs. "I would rather cuddle a porcupine while sleeping on a cactus."

"You're ridiculous."

"You're a pain in the ass!"

"You're both acting like children."

Simultaneously, your gazes snap to the open doorway where Ethan is standing with his arms crossed, looking at you both in amusement.

Immediately, the two of you begin to protest, but Ethan just shakes his head. "I'm going to love telling this story at your wedding," he says smugly, before throwing a "we're leaving for breakfast in forty five minutes and you're welcome to join us if you promise not to fight" over his shoulder as he goes.

When he's out of earshot, you and Mat look back at one another, still scowling at the other.

"I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on Earth." You state.

Mat's scowl morphs into a smirk. "That's a lot of men you want me to get rid of if you want me to test that theory."

When your eyes blow out wide in disbelief, Mat barks out a laugh, heading into the bathroom and shutting it behind him.

Too frustrated to function, you leave the room right as Mat shouts "I'll leave it unlocked if you want to start testing it!"

Maybe you will suffocate him in his sleep, after all.

#mathew barzal #mat barzal #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal x reader #writing challenge #mendeshoney masterlist

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fnafslauofficial1987 · 7 months

Text

🎈When you invite the Funtimes to your party🎈

FNaF SL x Reader

Characters: Circus Baby, Funtime Foxy, Funtime Freddy, Ballora and Ennard

Circus Baby

She will be very happy that you invited her to a party

She will ask you several questions about your party (especially if there is ice cream, she loves ice cream)

Even though she is happy, she will also be a little worried, she doesn't want you to be alone at the party, otherwise she will remember a terrible event from the past (I think you know what I'm talking about)

She will make your party more fun thanks to her clown skills and tricks

Funtime Foxy

He will be surprised that you are inviting him to your party

She will only come to your party if nothing is messy (she is very demanding on organization) and also if Funtime Freddy is not present (he thinks that Funtime Freddy will make her party turn into chaos)

He will make your party much more incredible with several songs that he knows

He will sing you the song "Happy Birthday to you" wonderfully

Hopefully she won't be late to go to your party, she usually spends so much time looking in the mirror that she ends up forgetting everything around her.

Funtime Freddy

He will be crazy happy and excited when you invited him to your party

He probably won't let go of you for the entire party, and will only leave you alone when the party is over (don't worry, Bonbon will try to control him)

He will bring several gifts for you

As Funtime Foxy said, if this bear goes crazy with excitement, he'll turn your party into chaos.

Just like Funtime Foxy, he will also sing the song "Happy Birthday to you" (but with a crazy tone)

He'll want to eat the cake before everyone else

Ballora

She will be happy and surprised when you invited her to your party

She will keep to herself because she doesn't want to ruin your party

She will try everything to not let her girls (the Minireenas) mess up your party

She will write beautiful cards wishing you a great birthday

Like the Minireenas, Ballora will also try to control Funtime Freddy (since Bonbon can't deal with him alone)

Ennard

At first they will be extremely confused that you are inviting him to your party

There are rare chances of him coming to your party (If there is an exotic butter at the party, it may appear quickly)

He would probably steal something to give you as a gift

She won't know what to do at your party because she'll be so confused, she'll just stare at you or want to be alone

I hope they doesn't kill anyone at the party

My first FNaF x Reader lol (I also wrote this as training for future stories, I love stories but I'm terrible at writing one😭) and I hope you like it, I want to write more in the future

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #stories #fnaf x reader #circus baby #ballora #funtime foxy #funtime freddy #ennard #sister location #fnaf sister location #fnaf sl #five nights at freddys #fnaf x y/n #fnaf au #fnaf sl x reader

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hanjisungslag · 5 months

Text

attack on titan headcanons #8

## - when they get jealous

genre - angst & fluff

pairing - aot x reader

word count -

warnings - none!

notes - i might start uploading more than once a month.. christmas specials coming soon😈

EREN JAEGER -

lil’ bro gets soooo mad. jean was chit chatting to you about something you guys had in common and there was too much laughing, giggling and jean was FAR too close. like he doesn’t need to be making you laugh first of all, but then being all up in your business?!? nahhh, eren was NOT having it.

“‘that’s it. i’m going up to him, how DARE HE—” then he feels a tug on his shirt and gets yanked back right into his seat.

“you need to learn how to chill out, eren.” reiner says, lecturing him “i know it looks bad, but it’s gonna be embarrassing for you and y/n if you go up there and cause an argument.”

god, he’s right. eren knew he was. but, he was SO angry, he needed to let out his anger somehow! the only option was to go to the dorm and just start punching shit.

MIKASA ACKERMAN -

silence suddenly took over in mikasa and sasha’s conversation. sasha slowly turned to her left to see what had mikasa in such shock and there you were with none other than ymir. ymir had her arm right above you, looking down on you. what the fuck did she think she was doing?! mikasa was furious and you could tell she was just by her energy. it was pure silence but those looks could kill.

sasha decided it was probably best for her to step back a bit.. she was also terrified that mikasa would kill her with one glance although she wasn’t doing anything bad..

ARMIN ARLERT -

as armin was strolling around town, he sees you! he starts walking over, shouting your name through the busy crowds of the town centre when he sees you and bertholdt.. laughing, bumping shoulders, looking through what seemed to be like some sort of gift shop. armins never really the jealous type, he doesn’t like to get worked up over things like that but something about this made his stomach turn.

he decided to head back to the dorms.

eventually, when you and bertholdt came back from your little shopping trip - you obviously, go to go see armin! you knock on his door and gently start pushing it open,

“hey babe~ whatcha doing?”

“oh nothing, just uh, sharpening my blades ready for tomorrow” he tried to put on a smile because he really doesn’t want to start anything. he just wants to act like nothings happened.

“oh.. well then. i- erm, i got you something today..”

“w-what?” he swung his head around to face you

“yeah! i know you’ve been wanting those maps of the outside world but i didn’t know where to find them but bertholdt did, so he took me to the shops!”

armins jaw dropped. first of all, maps of the outside world?!? that’s incredible! but also.. that whole situation that made him so jealous, was about buying something for him? god. he feels SO silly.

SASHA BRAUS -

honestly, this queen isn’t the jealous type. i feel like she doesn’t care over little things like touching, laughing, spending time with others - it’s the BIG things like if someone’s trying to flirt with you. but even then, she doesn’t feel jealous. she loves you and you love her and that’s enough for her.

there was a celebratory party with the military after you guys finally caught the female titan. this include the whole military obviously the survey corps but even garrisons and military police.

a girl from the garrisons, whom you’ve never met before, makes her way over to you and strikes up a conversation. you think nothing of it until she starts laughing, shoving you away by your shoulder and then.. she started flirting. as you were about to calm the situation down before she got any ideas, your girlfriend walks over.

“hey babe” sasha exclaims

“oh, sasha!” you say in shock, you really hope she isn’t upset.

“hey i’m sasha, i don’t think we’ve met before!” she puts her hand out to the girl, “by the way, this is my s/o. i don’t mind you guys talking but boundaries! thanks.” she giggles slightly.

“oh god— this is so embarrassing. i’m so sorry, i have to go.” the girl says before she runs off.

“sasha, i’m so sorry. i was just about to tell her” you quickly explain yourself

“it’s fine! honestly, i know that you love me and i love you. i trust you” she says, giving you a tender smile.

CONNIE SPRINGER -

he tries to act soo nonchalant. but omg he’s so jealous because, he sees armin as this insanely intelligent, witty, incredible leader and you, also being crazy smart, tend to help armin out with plans for the survey corps.

“i already sent some soldiers to do some scouting around that area, they’ll be back in a couple of hours”

“god armin!”

“what..”

“it’s like you read my mind! i was literally gonna ask to go do that.” you giggle slightly at the coincidence. armin lets out a sigh of relief and says ‘y/n!! don’t scare me like that, i thought i did something wrong!” you both giggle at armins fright but as you two were laughing away, little did you know, a mr. connie springer was watching from the crack in the door.

connie quickly walked off after he realised he was literally eavesdropping on you and armin. ‘why am i feeling so jealous? god, get a grip connie.’ he thought to himself and he stomps down the corridor, getting far away from you two in that room.

eventually, you find connie chilling outside, “connie!!” you run towards him in excitement. “i’m so sorry, i’ve been stuck in that room planning with armin all day. but i missed you so much” you say before wrapping your arms around him.

“ugh, babe. it’s fine, seriously!” he says hugging you back, slightly too tight.. “connie. cant. breathe.” he quickly lets you go, “shit, sorry.”

you raise an eyebrow and ask “are you sure you’re okay..?” “what?! what a preposterous accusation!” he says defensively “okay now i know somethings wrong. since when do you say ‘preposterous’?”

he sighs in defeat, he cant lie any longer “okay fine. i just got a bit.. jealous.. when you were with armin today, okay? armins super smart and so are you, so maybe you two should just marry each other and have super smart babies” he says, as he slides down a post, hitting the ground with a thud.

“connie…” you slide down to sit next to him, “connie, i know you think me and armin are super smart but, i think YOU’RE super smart. you’re so emotionally and socially intelligent. i love that about you and not even just that, i love everything about you! and if i’m gonna get married and have super smart babies with anyone, it’s gonna be you.” you say as you give me a sweet, genuine smile.

thank god you know him so well or else he would’ve never had said anything.

JEAN KIRSTEIN -

is that what jean think he just saw? y/n, HIS partner with eren jaeger?? oh wow. greatttt, no it’s fine.

IT IS NOT FINE. why were you talking with him and why did you both seem so happy? this jealous anger that was building up inside of jean quickly switched so sadness. this man was so heartbroken.

his ego just felt it got crushed by a 100 buses. his first instinct was to fight eren as usual but, it had been a while since their last fight honestly and if anything.. jean looked up to eren. sort of. he really appreciated his boldness, his strength and his willingness to keep going no matter what. although, he was still a suicidal maniac.

jean already felt like second place to eren in most things but now his partner? really?! jean couldn’t take it anymore so he decided to go on a walk in trost, maybe even pop by his house and have his mum make him an omelette.

after you were done talking to eren, you go to find jean but.. he’s no where to be seen? and after EXTENSIVE searching for the whole place - you knew where he had gone. you get to trost as fasttt as possible and end up at his house, talking to his mother. she lets you inside, of course, offers you tea and omelette, which you politely decline and head straight for jeans childhood room.

you slowly open the door, the old creaking letting jean know of your presence before you even said a word. “hi babe..” you say slightly awkwardly, “so, how come you ended up here?” you ask and you slowly make your way towards the bed. jean stares at you as he chews his omelette, which he eventually swallows and continues to stare at you. “why were you with eren?” he eventually asks after some silence “oh jean! really? that’s what this is about?” you ask, slightly annoyed.

“yes it is!” he exclaimed and jumped off his bed in anger “do you know how—” he begins to choke up “how much i hate yet respect eren? he’s so much better than me in so many aspects and he has some god awful traits but also some incredible ones that people could only DREAM of having.” tears begin to stream down his face and before he says another word, you jump up and wrap your arms around him.

you guys stand there momentarily. while still hugging, you say to him “i’m sorry, jean. i didn’t know you felt like that. i just- i hope you know how much i admire you more than anyone else. it’s not just because we’re together, it’s because you’re an amazing person.“ you slowly pull away from him “you may look up and respect eren, but i look up to YOU.” you wipe his tears gently “and so do so many other people.” you smile tenderly at him.

he’s such a lucky guy to have someone like you.

REINER BRAUN -

big bro does not get jealous. sorry but, this man is too perfect. he doesn’t get jealous because why would he? he knows you love him and that’s more than enough for him. he genuinely trusts you with every fibre of his being however, he doesn’t trust other people.

it’s less of a jealously thing and more of a protective one. he doesn’t get jealous if someone’s flirting with you, he gets protective over you. like get the fuck away from my s/o, bro!!

ANNIE LEONHART -

hot take: annie gets so jealous and so insecure when someone she believes you could like gets too close with you.

the ONLY REASON she would ever get so jealous or insecure is because you guys are in a relationship. this cold demeanour that she keeps up with around everyone else is not a thing when she’s around you, she just feels so herself and so authentic around you and the thought of that getting taken away scares the ever living shit out of her.

so, when she sees you chatting it up with sasha, she shits herself. now usually, sasha wouldn’t faze her but sashas bright, outgoing personality seems like something that you would like and that’s terrifying.

however, annie doesn’t say a WORD about how jealous she’s feeling. she’s already scared enough but she’s more scared to piss you off by saying something. but, that’s your mfing girlfriend!! you know when there’s something wrong with her, so obviously you asked,

“annie, are you okay? you’ve been really off lately.”

she looks at you confusingly “what? i’m fine.”

no she’s not.

“i know when somethings wrong, so just tell me!”

she doesn’t even look at you. she cant bare to face you right now. while she’s ignoring you, you think long and hard about what could be wrong and you finally come to a conclusion..

“omg. you’re not jealous i’m spending them with sasha, are you?”

annie’s eyes widen in shock, how did you know?! well, now you’ve said something, i suppose there’s no point in lying.

“yes, i am. you caught me.” annie puts her hands up in defeat.

“annie~ you silly bugger! there’s no need to be jealous, it’s just sasha, she’s just my friend. as great as she is, i could never date her..” you say reassuringly.

annie smiles slightly, “i appreciate that, y/n..”

BERTOLT HOOVER -

connie springer. most people wouldn’t be jealous of a 5’2 teenage boy but this 6’3 teenage boy is. connie is just so outgoing, bright and funny and bertolt is scared that you may just find him better than him.

so when he sees you two acting really close, he starts freaking THE FUCK OUT. he’s soooo flipping scared, he’s genuinely scared to face you again.

when you you over to him after being with connie, he just freezes and you’re so confused, “bertolt, what’s up with you?” you ask “o-oh, um, it’s nothing. i just couldn’t sleep last night.” he says, sounding very unconvincing. for the next week, he does EVERYTHING for you, just hoping that that’ll be enough to override connie’s impeccable humour.

“hey y/n, you can have the rest of my food! i don’t want it.” he says as he holds out his plate to you.

“bert.. why do you keep giving me your food? and making my bed? and washing my clothes? and just doing everything..?”

oh my god, he’s fucked it. HES DONE TOO MUCH, WHAT DOES HE DO NOW??

“i- umm. well—” he freezes.

you pat the seat next to you “come here, what’s wrong?”

he sighs “well.. you’ve been hanging out with connie a lot and i don’t know, he’s just a great guy..”

“bert..” you say sorrowfully, “connie may be a good guy, but you’re the greatest guy i know! there’s no need to ignore me or try to impress me. i love you just the way you are.”

bertolt puts his head in his hands “god, you’re right. i was being silly wasnt i?” he said sheepishly

you giggle at his embarrassment “yes, very silly.”

LEVI ACKERMAN -

brother, this man has been through enough shit. honestly, he doesn’t get jealous - the worst that could happen to you is you dying. which happens to everyone he loves. if for someone reason you were to cheat or break up with him and move on to someone else, at least he knows you’re happy and loved.

“hey levi, i’m going to help erwin with something, will you be okay on your own?” you ask

“yes, i’ll be fine, y/n.”

“i’m sorry if i’ve been with erwin more often lately, it’s just that-”

he cuts you off, “y/n, it’s fine. i seriously don’t mind you spending time with him for whatever reason.”

you look at him sweetly “okay.. sorry. i’m gonna go now, i love you!”

“yeah, yeah.”

“I SAIDDD.. i love you” you say as you give him a wide smile

he sighs “i love you too.”

ERWIN SMITH -

nile dok. always going around trying to take erwin’s partners man😭.

you’ve been in wall sina with the military police a lot lately, dealing with all the shit they’ve got going on and therefore, you’ve come in contact with their former commander, nile dok, A LOT.

although erwin had chosen the secrets of the titans over marie, doesn’t mean he wasn’t lightly suspicious and jealous when you kept mentioning nile. however, this is erwin smith, he’s a grown and mature man and what do grown and mature men do? talk about their problems!!

“y/n?”

“yes..?”

he chuckles slightly before speaking “gosh, this is going to sound so silly now i’m thinking about it. but, is anything happening between you and nile?”

you burst out laughing “what?! me and nile? erwin, come on now!”

he rubs his forehead “i knew it was silly.. i was just feeling a bit jealous, that’s all.”

you sympathise with him very quickly “aww erwin” you go into hug him “i’m sorry, i know i’ve been there a lot but i promise, there’s nothing happen, just pure innocent work.” you say as you rub his back.

you both pull away “i do know that, i think i just wanted some reassurance that’s all.” he says.

HANGE ZÖE -

what is y/n doing.. talking to mr. levi ackerman? aha.

now.. hange wouldn’t think much of this, but they could see what people would like and appreciate levi, especially after seeing how petra was with him - for someone reason, they can’t shake this feeling of jealously! what does one do when they’re jealous? get angry? cry? talk to their partner?

nope. hange is going to distract themselves until they simply forget. they begin to get super indulged in their work like i’m talking, you’ll leave the lab and they’ll say they’ll be another 5 minutes then you go back in the morning and they’re STILL there. researching titans over and over, taking any mission they possibly can, yapping about random stuff over and over, and eventually, you reach a breaking point.

“and then i said YOU CANT DO THA—”

“OKAY HANGE. hange..” you yelled

hange looked shocked at the sudden outburst and quickly shut their mouth.

“hange, what on earth is going on here?! why’ve you been indulging yourself in your work more than usual? you’re spending hours and hours on work and random stuff and i feel like i haven’t been able to get a word into our conversations lately!”

hange stops and reflects, oh my god. has it really been that bad? hange just wanted to do a little more work than usual, to distract themselves but clearly it’s been much more.

“i-i-” hange is speechless for once. “i-i’m sorry. i’m sorry y/n, oh my god!! what have i been doooiiinnngg..?” they slam their head on the table in front of them

“i don’t know, what have you been doing? i wanna know!” you ask, feeling slightly frustrated.

“god, y/n!! i’ve been so stupid, i was JEALOUS over you and LEVI, OUT OF PEOPLE?!” it’s like it all hit them at once, how crazy and silly they’ve been.

“i am soooo sorryyyy, snuchems” they say, pouting. “please, tell me a really long story so i’ll finally shut up for a few hours, i’m begging you. im sick of hearing myself at this rate!” they say with their hands clasped together, pleading with you.

“first of all, forgiven. second of all, LEVI ACKERMAN REALLY? third of all..” you look mischievous.

“okay so it started when i was 13 right and i was still living—”

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 8 months

Note

Would Ascended Astarion make his consort do things? Not in a sl*very kind of way that he endured of course but more as a “As my consort you have duties that I, your lord, expect you to fulfill” These things include cooking for him(especially if Tav would cook for the camp and he particularly enjoyed their food whenever he would eat it) or after sex he expect them to clean both of them off afterward, him seeing it as an act of love and dedication to him though it was given as a demand.

Or do his thralls just do everything and his consort is never to lift a finger…or else. Even when tav *does* want to cook for themself Astarion will not allow them to do such peasant work.

It is probably mixed. Astarion allows Tav to have limited, under supervision freedoms such walking Scratch in park or taking the owlbear cub outside the city to run around without worry. Cooking is big maybe, though he much prefers your cooking over the cooking of his enslaved stuff.

As his consort, his beloved spawn, there are obligations and expectations. Given Astarion as basically taken over the clan Szarr by killing his master, plus ascension, he has the nobility responsibility. Gathers, vampire coven stuff, taking over Baldur's Gate through the shadows, killing every monster hunter that will not submit to him. Stuff like that. He needs you to be a stereotypical noblity partner who plays hosts, speaks praises of him, etc.

When it comes to other tasks, ones he can get you not to do, the thralls take care of it. He will have want for nothing nor wait on anything. You are his treasure, as such, you will be showered with endless gifts (even if you are too shy to accept them)

The hard no is allowing you to keep your skills sharp. It not because you could "challenge" him. He simply wants you to be dependent on him.

Now, aftercare during sex is from him. Again he is literally obsessed with you. You who gave him the gift of power and to reclaim his body, his desire and lust no longer forced.

Like when ask to be gentle, oh man, this man really tries. And now that he has literally eternity with you, he will express the upmost love for his little love. Though you can sense the possessiveness in it.

#anon ask #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldur's gate astarion #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #reader insert

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prowlerverse · 2 months

Text

smiling critters x reader (christmas edition !)

disc ; for the sake of the hcs , let's just pretend actual sunlight and snow get into that... DOME they live in. also lowercase intended !

DOGDAY

dogday loves holidays. especially christmas. holidays mean ; no looking after kids. It also means he gets to hang out with his friends, to hang out with you.

there's not much you can get from just around playcare, but you can get some things from out of playcare, which leads to dogday begging staff for things from the outside.

eventually, they get tired of his begging and just give it to him to shut him up, and on christmas day he tells you he has a surprise for you — then you walk to his living room to see STACKS of presents.

"all for you!" dogday chirps as he hugs you tightly. "we can hang out after, if you want to.?"

for dogday, hanging out = playing in the 'snow' all day.

CATNAP

catnap again, doesn't exactly celebrate holidays unless you force him to. which you do, every year.

you make catnap one of those itchy christmas sweaters for him to wear, it takes a bit to make him wear it but he eventually gives in.

you usually try to involve catnap in the critter's activities, which he hates. not the fact your trying; but the fact he has to be social.

either way, when playcare winds down catnap spends the night with you watching what tv shows they have and eating cookies (animal safe, of course.)

"today was.. fun."

BOBBY BEARHUG

bobby loves giving, she likes receiving but LOVES giving.

meaning on christmas not only does her love multiply, but her gifts too!

she even asked her friends to set up a mistletoe just so you could both kiss under it.

everything else aside, when the sun goes down there's nothing she loves more when it comes to cuddling with you under cozy blankets drinking hot chocolate and old romantic christmas movies.

"aweee!! aren't they such a cute couple like us?"

PICKY PIGGY

picky loves to cook. she loves to cook for fun, for her friends, and mostly you.

so when christmas comes around, best believe that you'll both be in the kitchen for hours cooking stuff as the snow falls outside.

even if they don't come out THAT well, picky loves spending time with you. even if it means a burnt cookie smell lingers around her house.

"it's okay! we tried in the end, that's all that matters!"

HOPPY HOPSCOTCH

hoppy loves being outside, so having to be cooped inside was a struggle.

but when you said you could both just gear up and go outside, she was over the moon.

you both ended up getting into snowball fights and getting sick, but hoppy found it worth it.

even if it meant having to stay inside for the rest of the week.

"hey, but I mean," she started. "it's more time with you. that's good for me."

KICKIN CHICKEN

just like hoppy, he loves to be outside in any weather.

but, he's taken consideration of what you tell him.

so just to be sure this one time.. he decided to take it slow and just walk around playcare with you, in warm clothing of course.

kickin' was usually hyper, so this surprised you. but you enjoyed it. he was happy to see the snow.

"this is nice — not running around and getting sick. pretty cool if I say so myself."

BUBBA BUBBAPHANT

bubba is mostly a stay inside person, which you don't mind. being outside is not always the answer.

that didn't mean he would just study all day though, he'd try his best to please you by watching shows, cooking (the best he can.)

all the running around and watching shows made you a bit tired, so he would let you lay down on the couch with him.

"today was great," he squeezed you a bit. "thank you."

CRAFTYCORN

crafty enjoys coloring and crafts, it's in her name.

so when it comes to christmas, everything she makes is christmas themed, and a gift for you.

she even made a little christmas city made out of paper, and you loved it.

"I made this.. and thought you would like it."

end ; am I mad that I can't for some reason use the yellow text anymore and have to make kickin and dogday share the same , just slightly different? Yes. Am I gonna update the project: fic soon? maybe. did it crash once and I lost all the progress I made? Yes. Did I wanna cry? Yes. Did I delay this because I was mad over the yellow font suddenly going bye bye?

Yes.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #catnap #bobby bearhug #picky piggy #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #bubba bubbaphant #craftycorn #x reader #reader x canon

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