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kithtaehyung · 5 months

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broken, pt. 1 (3tan) | myg

title: broken (pt. 1) pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series:masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell. note: this is only one half of what was supposed to be a whole chapter! broken, pt. 2 will come out after i've had time to make it something i'm proud of. trying to rush everything out didn't do any favors, so hilariously and ironically, broken is broken up into two hahaha. warnings: language, angst, tension, yoongi’s pov is longgg, alcohol consumption, tobacco mentions, bro🥲, yoongi in the studio😩, the studio boys make another appearance👀, …someone else makes their first appearance👀👀, scuffles, tense situations, did i say angst?, water bottles get their own warning, long hair yoongi, basketball yoongi🫠, crying, bro a ha ha, jimin has tats and he’s not afraid to show them, the chains stay on(???), …bad boy yoongi😀👍, honestly he is on another level of warning here don’t perceive me💀, the fluff is fluffing here like what, backstory we’ve been waiting for😗, yoongi on the phone, hand holding :’)), kissing :’)), oh god the kissing❤️‍🩹, there’s just a lot in both parts i'm sorry y'all playlist: broken (lp) drop date: dec 3rd, 2023, 4:00pm est word count: ...19.1k 🚶‍♀️

Words abandon you.

They stand far from your form, pitying observers of your decaying state in front of the man you’ve been lying to. At once, you feel completely alone, not even Yoongi’s lingering presence helping when those eyes are piercing through time and space. Everything you’ve experienced over the past two years slings across your vision, from the first time you left your house in the pouring rain to get to Yoongi’s, to the car ride back you just took with his kiss still on your lips.

All of those moments shattering into dust around your heels.

Your feet make lines in them when you move to close the front door, something leaving your mouth before you can judge if it makes sense, “About what?”

Zero sense. Absolute zero sense. Which your brother has absolute zero patience for. The drone in his question hits you like a punch to the gut, “Really.”

“Just out late, is all,” you grumble, trying your best to not acknowledge an atmosphere so tense it’s almost crowded. “Jimin had another party, remember?”

“Course I do.”

Huh? Wait. Why does he sound so—

“I was there.”

Dread launches up your veins, rocketing right to your heart in the middle of a pulse. He was there? You saw his car when Yoongi pulled up close to the house. He was there? When the fuck did he arrive? Oh, fuck, if he got there early enough… did he see you… and Yoongi…

No. There’s no way. Because one, Yoongi parked far down and around the corner. He made sure not to be close just in case you two could be spotted.

With a thought you really cannot afford right now, you also assume he stayed that distance just so that he could pin you against his car. Fucking hell, focus! Upping the strength of your resolve to match cardboard, you lamely stall in your hunt for clarification, “You were?”

“I was.”

The watch on his wrist glints in its twist. When aggravated veins stare back at you, it’s obvious your brother is on the edge. Because he is deathly calm. “So where’d you go?”

You blink, not having expelled a single breath since you stepped foot inside.

Does he not know? Or does he know and he’s just waiting for you to finally spill? With all the hope in the universe, you yearn for it to be the first one. Because you cannot deal with a fallout right now. Not right after what happened with Yoongi.

It’s just not the right time.

“Yuri’s,” you blurt, finally kicking into gear and strategizing how you’re gonna finesse this. “She came and got me.”

Your sibling just stands there, eyes a solid beam before he sighs at clasped wrists.

Here it comes. He’s gonna ask why you didn’t say anything. Like he always does because for some reason you’re still not a true adult to him and he has to keep tabs on you at all times and you can’t just sneak around with his best friend in peace—

“K.” Your eyes shake once. “Just tell me next time.”

And just like that, your brother vacates the foyer, dark dress shoes clacking as he retreats back into his room. Leaving you standing in silence.

All the words around you just as speechless.

Just like that, you’re gone again.

After watching you leave and wishing you didn’t have to, Yoongi shuts his door to rest ponderous thoughts on worn wood. Eyes closed and a storm on his mind’s horizon.

Just a little longer. He hopes you’ll understand. This is just something he needs. More than anything else.

Exhausted, he peels himself from the door, meandering through the bog of his living room. Trudge, trudge, trudge to the dining table, skirting fingers along the edge and noting that it feels different than before.

At least something in his apartment has changed for the better.

Who would’ve thought that table would witness both an end and a beginning. That it would see the worst and best of him. If it was ever called to stand, there’s no doubt that it could recite all his failures and shortcomings. But he hopes that it would also attest to how much he’s fucking tried.

As much as Yoongi wants to throw it out, he hasn’t. Because despite being withered to hell, all it needed to recover was the new company of a familiar face.

And a little bit of summer rain.

It watches as his thoughts move on, and soaks in the blues and pinks of sunrise as he crosses into the bedroom. At the feel of your lingering presence, Yoongi gnaws on his lip.

What the fuck does he do now? The moment you leave, he wants nothing more than to have you back in his bed. It’s the one fact that he has come to fully acknowledge. Because there are many times you’ve caught him slipping. But when you’re lost to your dreams? Visibly at peace and safe under his sheets? That’s when he can’t even think straight.

How your serenity throws him into disarray, Yoongi has no fucking clue.

But he can’t afford these feelings right now. Because how can he want you close while being the reason for this distance? Make it make sense. Don’t be a fucking hypocrite. Tsking, Yoongi once again accepts the consequences, heading to his bathroom before going back the fuck to sleep.

Lies. Who is he kidding? There’s no way his rest will be the same without you. Especially since he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you next.

There is a way to remedy that. To put an end to your time apart. But Yoongi’s been so in his fucking head that it’s chaining him down and pulling taut. No matter how much he struggles, he can’t break free, and it’s driving him to the brink.

But last night? With you? Half moons mar his palms as he stands. Staring. Branding that whole memory into his heart.

After three months of questioning his existence.

All it took was your soft hums to give him a reason.

And you won’t ever know how much that meant to him. Not until Yoongi finally decides to tell you. Which will most likely be never. Maybe that’s why this time tears at his chest more than all the others. Maybe that’s why he stood in his doorway longer than usual. Maybe that’s why he can’t quite carry the weight in his chest.

Dumping himself on dark mountains—creations of his and your design—Yoongi buries his face in those valleys. Inhales those aromas like some hit he can live off of for however many days left he needs.

Desperately grasping for a fading world where only you two exist. Drifting. Dreaming. Disarmed by a vibration on his nightstand.

The fuck.

Who is texting him this early. There are only a few people he has notifications on for wait it’s probably you saying you’re home.

Peeling himself off the sheets with a groan, Yoongi simply shifts his upper body to reach for his phone, squinty-eyed as he checks his screen.

And he doesn’t see your name.

Dumbass: 1 New Message

But your brother’s.

What the hell does he—

Dumbass [07:30]: We need to talk.

…Shit.

Yoongi grips his phone in panic, ice water streaming through his veins and mind set ablaze with potential scenarios.

He’s awake. You went home. And he’s awake. Fuck, did anything happen? Did you say anything? What are the chances this text means he found everything out?

Shit.

Does Yoongi answer now? Or does he sleep and pretend that this is just a text and isn’t a problem at all? Think. Your brother may not even be referencing you, or him. Right? It could be something completely different.

Why can’t he fucking move?

Every regret Yoongi’s kept at bay floods his brain, crashing into assumptions of your mental state and creating a massive whirlpool of dread. Just answer. Don’t answer. Just answer. Don’t fucking answer. Suddenly, another alert lights his home screen and it’s a call oh fuck—wait… It’s Jungkook?

Why not. Sure. What’s one more issue.

Picking up, Yoongi runs hard fingers through his hair as he answers.

“Hey, you coming?”

“Huh?”

“We have that session in thirty.”

The what. The session? Oh, fuck. The session. Yoongi completely forgot they had a recording booked today because they were so hyped last night to get a date for the release party shit. Vacating his bed, Yoongi answers with a low, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, don’t be late. It’s those guys from before.”

Fuck, it’s that one. The dudes that stopped by the studio just as things were wrapping up, shocking everyone when they scheduled some time. Highly successful musicians and performers booking something with a no name studio? Things are rolling in the right direction and coming along fast.

But as things go. If they don’t take this shit seriously, everything can crash just as quickly.

“Heading out,” Yoongi finally says as he yanks a hoodie from his closet, and a loud vibration against his ear makes him flinch.

Dumbass [7:40]: Heading over

Fuck!

“You okay?”

“Shit, yeah.” Yoongi grips soft material before his phone hits his desk with a thump. Hastily dressing, he grunts, “Maybe. Might be like two minutes late.”

“Nah, come now.”

He’s heading over? Your brother? If that’s the case, there’s no way he doesn’t know.

Fuck, relax. Don’t overthink. If anything, there wouldn’t have even been a heads-up. Yoongi figures he’d just find out as soon as he’s thrown against a wall. Or the ground. Or right onto his coffee table that this very guy helped pick out. Shit, he needs to know but he doesn’t wanna find out.

But nevermind him. Are you okay? Swiping his device, Yoongi quickly types a text before fast-walking out of his room, going on autopilot when he assures into his receiver, “I’ll get there.”

Yoongi [7:42]: Going to the studio

“On time? You better!”

Goddamn, he’s juggling too much right now.

As Yoongi breaks into the dining room, he hears a rustling on the line before other voices jut through the speaker. Sounds like Hobi and Joon are already there, and the next thing said further spikes his stress level another peak,

“We’re already cutting it close with the prep.”

Fucking hell, the prep. The mics, the tracks, the setup. They forgot to do all of it. Something inside of him starts snarling and almost pounces through the phone, “Fuck, we should’ve been ready already.”

“Shit, I know.”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Dude, relax, I get it.”

“Do you? Cus this is… Fuck.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get it done but it’s gonna be tight. Hey, where’s the… Damn it, what’s it called?”

Frustrated and rummaging through his pantry, Yoongi knows he sure as hell didn’t think about anything else as soon as he heard you crying on the line. If he had remembered while leaving the studio, he could’ve spared a brain cell to rush everyone back in. “The what.”

“The… The overhead mic for the drums.”

Of course, he’d repeat every decision he made last night. Over, and over, and over again. But any of them should’ve remembered this step before leaving, which pisses him off. The studio’s lack of experience is showing and it’s making him nervous.

And Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s going on with his best friend.

“We need two overheads for drums,” he corrects while swiping a water bottle from the counter. And he’s about to rattle off where they are when he feels another long buzz.

Dumbass: Incoming Call

Of fucking course.

Mind whirring so hard he can feel steam, Yoongi quickly recalls where the mics are, “They’re somewhere in the back by the amps, but I gotta take this so I’ll see y’all there.”

“Wait, where are the—”

Nope. Kook’s just gonna have to figure out whatever he’s asking on his own. Switching calls, Yoongi answers while opening his door, hastily putting out the food and water he grabbed from the kitchen.

“Hey.” Fuck, is his voice shaking? What the hell is he gonna be faced with in the next few seconds? Can he freeze time and rewind and keep last night on repeat? “I’m about to head out.”

“Don’t leave yet, I’m coming.”

“No, just”—Yoongi dashes back inside before grabbing his wallet and keys from the bar—“You good? I can’t be late.”

“Don’t lie. Y’all are done, right?”

Don’t lie. Yoongi feels like hurling.

“We got another project,” he huffs as he meets sunrise again, blazing a trail through his corridor and rounding the corner to his car. “A band’s coming in for a session.”

“Shit.”

There’s a pause on the line. And it’s the first bit of silence Yoongi’s had since he got the first bone-chilling text. Is his secret safe? Are you okay? Should he work extra late and run from a problem yet again? He’s very good at that. Running. If there was a medal for distance ran from issues, he’d be on the podium for both gold and silver.

“Okay, fine.”

Relief is temporary. This could just be him biding his time in order to figure out what to do. Or maybe he truly doesn’t know what’s going on and Yoongi has a bit more uninterrupted time with you.

Delusion is a great place to stay.

In any case, his friend’s behavior is alarming. What’s he doing up this early? And why is he wanting to swing by so bad if not to slice him into tiny pieces? Nerves slow on the downslope, Yoongi shuts his car door and lends his ear, “But serious, are you okay?”

“I just… Tch. I can’t even say it.”

He lets his friend go through a series of small sounds on the line, pulling out of the lot and hitting the road with tire squeaks. “What’s up,” he finally pushes, looking sideways and remembering the car ride home.

There was no way Yoongi was gonna say no to you. He didn’t in this universe, and he’d bet his whole life he doesn’t in any other one, either. Not when your wings looked like you hadn’t used them in months.

Pained, Yoongi hopes you’re completely fine and sleeping. Tucked away in a bed that captured part of his heart, visiting him in your dreams so that some version of him can be at your side.

“Everything, Yoong.”

But, as it so starkly turns out, he has to deal with reality. And with the fact that you’re just as far away as you were before last night. Maybe even further out of reach.

So, so far away.

“There’s a ton of shit, but. Fuck. Guess we’ll have to wait.”

Right now, deal with the studio prep and get through the session that will probably take awhile. After that, meet up with your brother and hope to god he doesn’t know. “K.”

“Just lemme know when you get back.”

Then, when all of that is done, Yoongi will be alone. Staring into the night and trying his hardest not to give up on himself again. “Yeah, I will.”

“No running.”

“K.”

When the call ends, Yoongi lets out the harshest breath he’s ever let out in his life. Hoping you went right to sleep without dealing with any of that.

“How did that sound?”

Looking into the recording room, Yoongi raises a thumbs up as Hoseok clicks back to the beginning of the track. At their side, Namjoon hits a button on the console before speaking into a microphone, “Y’all wanna come hear it?”

“We can move on. Wanna get the doubling done.”

Huh? They’re gonna move onto vocal doubling already? With a few blinks, Yoongi think it’d be better if they—

“Okay!” Jungkook agrees from the couch, cutting out any other thoughts. “If any of you need adjustments, let us know.”

“Yeah, actually, can one of you come switch this out?”

Joon throws a suggestion over his shoulder, but Yoongi is already heading for the booth before his name is even mentioned.

Get everything done smooth. Stay disciplined. Be professional, goddamn it.

Entering the soundproofed room will always make him want to occupy the mic instead. That feeling hasn’t gone away, and there have been countless nights where he’s spent time just sitting in this very space, visualizing what it would be like to work on this side of the glass someday. Deep down, Yoongi knows he could be somebody. But imposter syndrome runs deep.

Avoiding cables strewn about the room, he offers his hands without a word, taking a guitar from the lead singer and making his leave—

“Hey.” He turns. “You’re good.”

What? Where the hell did that come from? Did he even hear this guy right or was he just daydreaming again? Yoongi’s so thrown he can only stare with question marks for eyes.

Amused, the singer simply points to the side of his beaming countenance. “You have an ear.”

Huh. How the hell can this dude tell? All Yoongi’s done is indicate if a recording take was good or not, and given a few minuscule suggestions to the keyboardist and guitarist—instruments he’s well-versed in.

Yet again, he’s so in his head that the man outright laughs, “Relax! You can talk to us like normal, you know. None of us care about etiquette shit.”

“Shit, my bad,” Yoongi finally responds, instrument in his hands proving a little lighter. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Swishing long bangs to the side, the performer rests a hand on his hip. “We’re open to anything. We’d just tell you if your opinion sucks.”

Eyes creasing with his lips, Yoongi puffs out a laugh.

“Kidding. Only a little.”

Even though these people are world-renowned, they’re the first humble group to run through the studio. Everyone else has been either cocky, standoffish, or super opinionated, which made for unproductive hours.

Yoongi likes this change of pace. His shoulders start to feel composed, less scrunched than they had been since you left his place this morning. Comforted, he looks down at the guitar in his fingers.

Choosing not to say what he wants to.

Should he? Nah. These guys know what they’re doing. Despite the nice offer to speak up, it’s not his place. Far from it.

…But what would you tell him to do? What would you be proud of?

Committed to his answer, Yoongi grips the neck and decides without another thought,

“Do the chorus again.”

The whole studio stills. But all he’s looking at is the man in front of him, shaking his head when they ask, “Same way?”

“Uhm. No.” As he hands the guitar back, Yoongi wordlessly checks if he can see the sheet music. When given the go-ahead, he scans the lines before pointing out a passage to note,

“Mm. Here. Vocals are fine as is, but. Ride the build-up quicker and hit the next chord after a bit longer.” When he stops, he has to fight to ignore the eyes on him. There’s no doubt that his extended time in the recording room is being questioned, and his hand movements probably make him look stupid. “It’ll keep in time but hit harder.”

Done. He said it.

And the response that follows puts complete silence to shame.

Instantly self-conscious, Yoongi swears he can hear Hobi’s pants shift in the control room through two closed doors shit he took it too far. Fuck, if these guys walk out now the studio is done for and he’ll be the only reason why—

“Well, goddamn. Let’s try that then.”

Huh. They’re gonna take that?

As he steps away, Yoongi feels slightly awkward doused in attention. Yeah, expressions seem like looks of approval, but they could just be polite.

The man hums the chorus with Yoongi’s notes in mind, and his eyebrows tick a bit before he addresses the others in the room, “You heard him?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, we can try that.”

“Why didn’t you think of that, Woosung?”

Yoongi can’t keep his amusement under wraps as the singer laughs, addressing his keyboardist with a grin, “Damn, not even Sammy? Straight to Woosung, huh.”

“Sammy would’ve thought of it.”

Another bout of mirth spreads joy around the recording booth, and Yoongi shares a look with the singer before they both nod.

“Let’s see how it sounds.”

“K.”

Proud and adrenaline-filled, he turns to walk back to the door, head so buzzed he doesn’t know what to do. But when Yoongi can’t see into the control room anymore, he misses a stare through the glass.

A stare that lingers on him just a little too long.

The rest of the session goes smooth, and Yoongi’s relieved that they haven’t asked him for anything else.

After all. He doesn’t wanna push it, or step on Jungkook’s toes. What happened in the recording room only went down because you would have scolded him for not seizing that moment. And the suggestion he gave was lauded after the next take.

It was the first time since you kissed him goodbye that he felt a healthy pulse in his chest. Despite the chaos of the morning, amid the thoughts and worries penetrating his brain, you reached out and kept him steady in just the right moment.

Fuck being his good luck charm. You give guardian angels shame and you don’t even know it.

“Okay, we’ll take ten after this.”

Jungkook holds up an arm while agreeing, “Okay! We’ll save what we got!”

Yoongi’s scanning the tracks when he feels hovering over his shoulder, and he already knows it’s the kid without looking. “Sup.”

“Nothing.”

“You sure.”

At this, Jungkook pauses before he sighs. “Yeah, it’s nothing,” he clearly lies.

But Yoongi will let him figure out whether to run with that or not. He seems a little bothered about something, and it very well could be what happened in the booth. This is work, and they’re both adults. If he wants to talk about something, Yoongi will gladly have that conversation.

Suddenly, a vibration erupts in his hoodie pocket, and his phone is fished out without him even thinking.

Hustler: Incoming C—

Shit. You wouldn’t call him at work unless it’s urgent. Which is quickly throwing any possible theories about your brother not knowing out the window.

But fuck, he can’t answer yet. There’s no way. Not only is he in very close range to someone you don’t wanna speak to right now, but he’d get blasted for being on his phone during a session. Hoping you can wait just two more minutes, Yoongi turns the buzzing off within his hoodie pocket, anxiously waiting for the take to start.

Hoping to everything that Jungkook didn’t happen to see what was on his screen.

As soon as everyone looks pleased—three takes and thirty minutes later—Yoongi quickly excuses himself from the control room. His head practically overheats on the way out back, but the gust of morning breeze serves to soothe it some.

It’s been chilly lately. A bit grey. But whatever the weather has been outside, it’s no match for the atmosphere of his brain.

Pulling his hood over hair he hasn’t cut in months, Yoongi looks around before ringing you up. Hoping that you’re good and didn’t have to go through a version of his panic earlier.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Straight to voicemail? Shit.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

Fuck, still voicemail. Are you okay? On the phone with someone else? Did your brother actually end up finding out and things are worse than he thought? Clutching his phone, Yoongi glances up while giving it slight shakes, body on alert while deciding what the hell to do now.

Maybe he can at least text you to ask what the hell happened this morning? Typing. Erasing. Retyping. Retrying.

Yoongi [9:02]: Got a session today, doll.

That’s what he had to say? That won’t do you any good, the fuck? Berating himself with a sigh, he takes a few steps while texting a follow-up.

Yoongi [9:03]: Still going, but are you good?

Staring, it takes him a few seconds to decide if this is enough. If these two messages are gonna suffice to help him figure out what the hell he’s getting into later.

It’s not. There’s too much he needs to know.

Hustler: Outgoing Call

When it doesn’t ring a third time, Yoongi gives up, cursing before turning and raking his hood off in distress.

Only to see Woosung materializing out of nowhere—relaxed, silent, and taking a drag.

Shit. How much of that did he witness?

“Been there,” the man empathizes, blowing out smoke into crisp morning. After a swell of early traffic fills the alleyway, he continues, “In trouble?”

Great. With a sound of dejection, Yoongi answers to a stack of random boxes, “Might be.”

“Don’t wanna commit anymore?”

“I do,” Yoongi blurts without hesitation, looking right into eyes that have seen plenty more than he has.

And it’s the first time he’s admitted anything out loud. To a stranger miles above him in status, no less. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he clarifies, “It’s just… There’s something I need to do first.”

Wait a sec. Why the fuck is he talking about this so freely? This isn’t something he does. Privacy is practically his brand. So why is it easy to talk to this guy? It’s him, for fuck’s sake. But what’s done is done. Woosung probably won’t even remember this conversation even happened, or is already annoyed as hell he didn’t get a good read on him.

To Yoongi’s surprise, his alley companion speaks again after another white wisp. “Mmm… Something you need to do?”

Well. Yoongi walked right into this one. Swallowing and knowing he can’t dip out, he sighs, “Some shit I wanna finish.” The smell of tobacco wafts around him when he looks at dulled skies. “Shit I need to get through.”

An amused hum floats through empty space. “Been there, too.”

Yoongi slowly turns to regard his client, watching as Woosung becomes very interested in wet concrete.

What kind of shit has this guy seen? Surely, he could have had some of the same experiences. The slight droop in his confident shoulders tells enough. But would he understand the exact same situation?

No. At least, Yoongi hopes not. Quite fucking frankly, he hopes no one has had to go through the same shit that he has.

“Let me know if you ever need help,” Woosung offers, shocking Yoongi to the point of speechlessness. As he drops his cigarette to squash it out, he runs a hand through wild dark locks. “We’ll be around again.”

Wait. What? Yoongi can only blink. “Serious?”

“Yeah.” The man looks down the outside corridor, watching as people start heading to their jobs through a central courtyard. “Got a good feeling about this place.”

What does he mean by that. What can Woosung possibly mean by that what does he mean they’ll be back? To the studio? To the city? What’s happening. Yoongi simply lets a pause prevail before offering the only response he’s capable of,

“It’s the food next door, huh.”

That laugh has got to be top five in the world. Not as great as yours, but definitely up there in terms of what makes Yoongi feel like things are alright. Not that he’d ever admit that shit to anyone. Ever.

Mercifully, the conversation moves away from risky topics. Instead, there are talks about a tour one is planning for his band’s album, mixed in with mentions of equipment the other is saving up for. Then the rest isn’t about music at all.

Finally, it’s time for them to continue recording, so they know to head back inside. “Don’t wait,” Woosung advises as he turns on his heel.

And Yoongi can only stare somewhere else.

“If there’s something you need to get through...”

Stare, and stare, and stare some more.

“Hit it until it breaks.”

Because he’s already aware. More than anyone.

As Woosung shuts the back door, Yoongi’s gaze finds the crushed cigarette at his side. Another reminder of how things were.

And a reminder that he’s still a fucking coward.

Hours later, Yoongi’s car awaits him in the lot.

And when he realizes that you still haven’t responded, he shuts his door just a little too hard.

Whenever his friend comes over for drinks, it’s always the same routine.

Both of them don’t talk much, instead opting for a quiet greeting before someone dumps themselves on the couch while the other grabs a bottle and cups in the kitchen. As soon as glasses are filled, conversation sparks as a game plays out on tv—or a sportscasting show if nothing interesting is airing.

But this time? None of it happens that way. Because when Yoongi opens his door, he’s pinned with a shadowed visage he's only seen piercing through others.

And the whole arctic starts to seep into his bloodstream.

Raising a brow and giving space is his chosen course of action. Best to not disturb a beast if they’re already ready to lunge.

And his friend eyes him as he stalks into the house, scanning around in search of something—living room, dining table, even looking into the open doorway of the bedroom.

Fuck. Relax. Don’t assume anything until things are on the table. Yoongi has got to pretend like tonight is normal and fine and that he’s obviously and positively not seeing and sleeping with his friend’s little sister.

And that he most definitely didn’t eat you out where your brother is sitting now motherfucker he needs a drink. Or a smoke. Or both with a plane ticket out of the whole country.

At least the television is already on. If it wasn’t for that ambiance, Yoongi’s head would be jam packed with every goddamn sound known to man. Including the adorable way you talk in your sleep, and how you strain so beautifully when you come fuck, fuck, fuck! Focus.

What’s happened has happened. And what’s going to happen will happen. Whether it’s a consequence of his actions, or nothing to do with any of this at all.

But when faced with everything smushing together at once? Yoongi will probably need to be revived no matter what the outcome. This is the most stressed out he’s been in years.

Not only that, but his stress is more than obvious. Even now in the kitchen, he’s scanning through his bottles with a finger—an action he’s never done while sober since the choices are always predictable. Holy shit, he needs to pull it together.

Has he ever been this panicked? Does he appear just as chaotic and disjointed as he feels? This is too new. This is very new and if he doesn’t regain control there’s no telling where this foreign road leads.

But the silence still remains as he turns. And apparently the road hits a dead end at his dining table. Since it’s occupied rather than the living room sofa.

Sighing, Yoongi ambles to his friend, placing everything down with clinks and ignoring the way his furniture is getting burned through. Both whisky’s are ready. Yoongi’s already holding his. And your brother still hasn’t moved a muscle. Honestly, what the fuck is going on with—

“I went to Jimin’s last night.”

…What.

Don’t react. He’s staring. Don’t fucking react. Take a drink. A sip. Pick up the goddamn glass. Doing so, Yoongi slowly brings the liquid to his lips, not quite following his own instructions as he asks behind a barrier, “How was it.”

His question is met with a laugh that isn’t funny at all. The kind that drags a finger along the chalkboard of your soul. And the next question directed his way pulverizes Yoongi’s denial,

“Care to share what’s been going on?”

He’s sick. Beyond sick. The room is closing in and closing in too fucking fast. Shit shit shit. There’s no way he saw. No fucking way. He parked down the street he deliberately stopped as far away as possible and you saw your brother’s car in your driveway. Did he get there after you left? And didn’t see you while also not hearing from hi—

“Why her, Yoong? Hmm?”

Fuck!

Yoongi can’t feel the air in his lungs. Because there isn’t any. Just a barren wasteland of shriveled futures and cracks in the foundation of every relationship he’s had in his whole life. The millisecond before a crash and only his wheels spinning and spinning and spinning—

Your brother shoots out of the chair, making the glass in Yoongi’s palm feel infinitely more solid.

“I mean, fuck! After all the shit we’ve been through? You’re gonna go back to her?”

All the—shit, he can’t even—back to? Back to you? What does he mean by back to you? Does he know about the first ti—

Volcanic, the man interrogating paces beside the dining table. Back and forth, back and forth. A pause. Back and forth.

And Yoongi still feels frozen in time. Is this it? Is this when things come crashing down? Glass suspends in midair all around him; an orchestra trembles beneath his feet, waiting for the moment to rip into his rib cage with swift strokes and a flourish as he’s taken down.

“Can’t fucking believe you.”

When Yoongi finally chooses to speak, what comes out only feels like a horrible attempt more than anything else, “Listen, it’s my fau—”

“What, you just decided to fuck that bitch again? Couldn’t stay away?”

Oh, fuck that.

Wood scrapes into flooring as Yoongi vacates his chair, hard feet planted as he gets into the face of his best friend, his confidant, his day one. Only to speak so low only them two can hear, “How bout you use your fucking words already and I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” They are only a breath apart. But no one’s going anywhere now. “Need me to spell it out for that fuckass brain of yours—”

“Say it—”

“Stop fucking your ex, dude!”

Yoongi’s back connects with the chair behind him, palms flinging back to brace himself through a jolt of pain. And his eyes go so wide they stretch at the edges.

…Motherfucker, what?

Your brother is not done in the slightest, but Yoongi can only stare as he’s being berated for something that is one-hundred percent news to him, too.

“Everyone was happy when you finally left. All of us. Only for you to go and, what, get back with her?”

Nothing makes sense. This isn’t about you? Yoongi’s heart can’t even reset to start beating again. Everything is coming as shock after shock and there’s no way he can keep up at this pace.

His ex? Her? Where the fuck did that come from and why the hell does he of all people think that’s actually true?

“If you’re gonna be with her, you can count me out.”

No. Never again. That would never, ever happen again. “The fuck are you even saying—”

“I’m not fucking joking, Yoong. If you’re seriously back with her then—”

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but I’m not.”

“So everything I heard was a lie?”

“Huh?”

“He told me!”

He—who? Who the fuck would say that? And when how what the fuck and why? Yoongi stares, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Because he has a choice to make. Either he trudges into this lie and rubs sludge all over his bones, or he denies it like he wants because it’s not fucking true.

What the actual fuck. It’s already bad enough that someone sent this along the rumor mill. And it’s making him sick thinking about all the implications surrounding it. But it’s even worse that his best friend believes it so easily. He’s coming at him so quick without even asking if it’s true.

The only silver lining—the singular bright spot in this hellhole—is that he can use it as an out. An out to protect you from wrath and further fury from your older sibling because if you were the rumor? He’d be laid flat on his floor next to a broken dining set.

“You gonna say anything or what?”

Truthfully, Yoongi feels queasy knowing what he’s gonna do. But it’s for you. You, you, you. And for that, Yoongi will do anything.

Even if it kills him.

“No, I, umm…”

“No?”

Just hurry up and fucking do it.

Resigned, Yoongi lets the memories flood through. Every moment that’s haunted him from a distance charges forward as he surrenders to the pain of his past. “It’s—” Fuck, he can’t even begin to lie, head thundering, thundering, striking his heart in the rain. “I...”

His friend halts. Tense before his shoulders fall back to normal. “You what.”

What the fuck does Yoongi do? What can he say when his brain is only firing up to beg him to run? Technically, he doesn’t have to say anything. He really doesn’t. But he can deflect. It’s what he’s best at, after all. He’s been doing it to you and he will do it again.

In the most defeated voice he can muster, Yoongi comes up with something that will placate his friend while still prolonging this horrid fib, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“You sure?”

It’s true. More true than anything. “It’s over now.”

A century passes. Then another. Then another. Every piece of furniture waits in silence as the television seeps back into his ears.

Then his friend sighs, not looking back as he slumps into the same chair that you always occupy. And Yoongi hopes his sigh of conflicted relief isn’t witnessed.

Following suit, he rubs his lower back before taking his regular seat again, not giving any shits about waiting to drink.

His ex?

As his throat warms, Yoongi starts to harden the more memories keep crashing into each other like jagged waves fuck he really hates how she was brought into this he swears as soon as he figures out who said this he is going to—

“Sorry.” Haze shattered, he lifts his gaze. “I’m so fucking stressed and hearing that last night just…”

“It’s done.” Yoongi reaches for the thick bottle, pouring more into his glencairn. Wanting to talk about literally anything else, he diverts the conversation, “But something else is up with you so say it.”

It works. The man inhales deep, rubbing his face with weary hands. When he rests elbows on wood, he finally talks about other things clouding his mind,

“Work is shit,” he groans downward. “They’re having me travel again.”

“Domestic?”

“Yeah. But for longer. And I don’t…” Tapering off, he sits back, slowly playing with his glass. As if he doesn’t want to mention the next problem.

When he finally does, Yoongi wholeheartedly understands the hesitation, “I dunno know what’s going on with my sister.”

Oh. Fuck, how the hell does he respond? Keeping his cool, Yoongi just repeats the question, taking out his phone and pretending to check his screen. “Your sister?”

“Yeah.” A sigh is sandwiched between explanations. “The past few months, I feel like.. They haven’t really been themselves.”

A sudden crack splits him through.

“Not laughing. Not eating as much. Like even when they sound happy, I can tell it’s a front.. I don’t know.”

The clunk of his phone hits the table very hard.

No. No, no, no. Your texts have been so positive. So encouraging. Other than a few sad calls, you’ve been happy to hear from him just as he had been relieved to hear from you. Even in the car, you must’ve put your feelings lightly.

Your wings. You’ve been enduring all that? For him? Yoongi’s heart rears its head, snagging one of his breaths and slamming both lungs into the floor.

And hatred paints his heart another shade darker.

“They finally went out last night, but. Didn’t come back until this morning.” Running rigid hands through his head, the man looks so pained. So helpless. “Same clothes, dude.”

And Yoongi can only stare, feigning nonchalance but raging and tearing himself apart inside. “Mm.”

“I just… I know I suck at this, but. I don’t know what the hell to do. Or if I even do anything.” Your brother finally takes a swig, wincing at how much ethanol coats his tongue.

Relax, relax, relax. As much as he wants to erupt on himself right now, Yoongi has to stay calm.

Not like he doesn’t know how. That’s usually how he operates, anyway. It’s hard to tell he’s struggling unless you look deep enough. And almost no one thinks to do so because his surface is all they want.

But right now? He doesn’t think he can sequester this anger any longer. At him, his past, and his stupid present decisions.

“Like I tried to say something but I just.. I felt like if I push too hard, they’re gonna shut down even more. Ever since that fight with Kook, it’s like..”

Seeing an opening and keeping a neutral stance, Yoongi asks the most ironic question to date, “Are they seeing someone?”

At this, his friend shakes his head, eyes glued to dark amber liquid. When he answers, all the breaths in the world cut at once,

“I think she feels all alone.”

This hit is the strongest. Straight to the gut, breath stuttering and muscles clenching so hard they lock. It’s almost severe enough to affect how Yoongi feels around his eyes.

“And it sucks not knowing what to do.”

Yoongi’s heart lurches, deflating and slipping out of the crack in his chest. Piercing on the jagged edges before slumping down onto a table that continues to judge him.

You’re hurting. Your brother’s hurting. And it’s all his goddamn fault. Why can’t he just break free and admit shit? Why is he still haunted by the phantoms of his past? Why is he still so fucking weak? It’s clear that he hurt you. For months. You’ve been cheering for him that whole time while you’ve been visibly broken and it’s all because of his dumbass decision to—

“I’m heading out again.”

Yoongi raises his eyes. Because he can’t seem to move anything else. “When.”

Your older sibling takes a slower, more measured sip. Looking towards the channel playing in the living room, he answers, “After our game. Dinner Friday, game on Saturday, fly out Sunday.”

“Mm. We’ll still be here,” Yoongi assures, keeping things as normal and neutral as he can. “Just like last time.”

How ironic. How hypocritical. He hasn’t been there for you in the slightest so how the fuck can he say that with a straight face.

“Thanks. I know it’s a lot for y’all but..”

Not at all. Yoongi is more determined than ever to make everything up to you. It’s the least he can do after putting you through something he decided on the fly.

On the run.

“Don’t worry about that,” he vows into his drink. Honestly, if you’ve been having second thoughts about this whole thing, he doesn’t blame you. Absolutely doesn’t blame you if you realize you’re better than this. But Yoongi’s at least gonna apologize in every single way he can. As soon as he possibly can. “We got it.”

“K.” The man finishes his glass and goes to pour more. “Did I ever mention that she liked you?”

Now what— Coughing on whisky is a bitch and a half. Hitting his chest while both eyes squint from burn, Yoongi croaks out his exact thoughts, “What.”

At this, his friend finally breaks into his regular smile. Setting the bottle down with a hollow clunk, he points, “Don’t you fucking get any ideas. Jimin’s already on my shit list.” He scoffs out a laugh. “But it was obvious when we were younger.”

And Yoongi can only cough some more. He shakes his head through the sting, swallowing and trying to compose himself. He doesn’t know where the hell that came from, but he hopes your brother will understand when all is said and done. Even though he’s been the reason you’ve been so…

Yoongi almost fucking confesses.

“You’re a good person,” he blurts instead. Whether the guilt or last cough pushed it out, that’s still on the table. “You don’t suck at what you think you do.”

“You think so?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The hell? Does this dude really not see how successful he is? How much he’s overcome and conquered and sacrificed? Truthfully, Yoongi wouldn’t be where he is today if not for your brother. Him. Jimin. You. Anybody. Which is what makes this ongoing betrayal…

Unprecedented.

“You’re the best out of all of us.”

Your brother finally looks at him, though Yoongi isn’t doing the same. But he can still tell when a fist is held out for him to bump, so he does.

And they both share a drink in respectful silence.

After a moment of them watching the tv, the man finally sighs. “Guess we did shape up pretty nice.” When he’s agreed with, he keeps going with a grin. “We were so fucking bad.”

Yoongi can only chuckle, much better memories fighting off the terrors. “Old me was a little shit.”

“You still are.”

“Says you!”

“I still am, too!”

Laughs precede big swigs of whisky and comfortable quiet. Bit by bit, shoulders start to relax with the surrounding air, and Yoongi lazily releases tension in his neck.

After a few more pours, your brother decides to call it, using the bathroom before announcing that he’s gonna head out. Yoongi gets up from his chair to clasp hands goodbye, not expecting to hear one more plea,

“Break up with her, Yoong.”

Shit. He sighs, and their conversation continues from the dining table to the front door. “It’s not like that.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s over now.”

“For good?” As they stop beside the coat closet, your brother pins him with a look. “I was about to drive over and break down the door.”

Even though Yoongi shares a tsk with him, he can’t help but imagine what could’ve happened if that was the case. And it sends an unwanted jolt of chills.

“Serious. I’m gonna keep saying this, but. she was just making you miserable, dude.” He slips on his shoes, smacking his foot on the ground to push one in place. “I’m sure it was good at first, but I mean… You gotta move on. You deserve better than that.”

Anything would be better than that. Yoongi just disagrees with the whole deserving part. “I guess.”

“You sure it’s over?”

“Yeah,” he assures, because that is something he intends to keep true forever. “It is.”

“Good.” Keys jingling, your sibling then points into the open area with his whole arm, seven words leaving his mouth like ice,

“Then get rid of that fucking guitar.”

Ah. Among all the things. Of course he would bring that up, too. Jaw working, Yoongi looks away, now assaulted by all the torturous thoughts surrounding that painful reminder and fighting them off with no success.

Get rid of it? He’s been trying.

For three. Fucking. Months.

“I might.”

“…K.”

And his best friend departs, leaving Yoongi inside and staring at the same black spot he’s kept in the corner for years. It has mocked him as he struggles. Laughed at him whenever he’s tried to throw it out. And aside from the times he’s made you feel better stinging himself on those strings, he has accomplished nothing except letting it win.

Pissed off and doused in guilt, Yoongi yanks himself away from the door, the instrument, and everything else except for his bed.

Keeping his shadow exactly where it stands.

Yoongi knows he needs to talk to you.

But his phone exists somewhere on the other side of his bedroom door.

And he doesn’t have the strength to go get it.

What time is it?

All that greets him is darkness.

Nothing new, but darkness all the same.

Why was she mentioned? What does that mean?

He needs to call you. He’s lying to his best friend.

Her? You. His sheets still smell like you.

Inhale. Breathe. Inhale.

He needs to call you. But he’s so, so tired.

And the darkness pulls him back under.

Without even telling him the time.

Buzzing.

Faint, gentle buzzing softly lifts Yoongi’s eyelids before a loud series of smacks causes him to rush out of bed what the fuck?

Oh. His phone fell outside. Fucking hell, his heart’s beating way too quick for that to be the only thing that happened.

Head in his hands, Yoongi sighs deep before making his way to the dining table. And it takes all of his strength to bend down to reach for his phone.

Hustler: Missed Calls (6)

Dumbass: 1 Message

Hustler: 3 Messages

Chim: 7 Messages

Chim: Missed Calls (3)

Holy fuck.

With only the light of his phone illuminating the dark, Yoongi rings Jimin up. His heart’s a little disappointed it wasn’t you calling just now, but it’s probably best to stay away while his brain is so scattered and torn.

“Oh, fuck. There you are.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t scare me like that, bro. I was starting to get ready to drive over—”

“It’s fine,” he juts in. “What’s up.”

Alright, maybe he shouldn’t be an asshole. There’s no reason to let his lingering shadow from earlier control his temper now. Jimin’s just being himself, for fuck��s sake.

“I, umm. I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

Now that’s not what Yoongi expected at all. “For what?”

There’s another pause on the line, and his reaction is immediate when he knows for a fact Jimin is fighting back tears.

“I… I got so drunk last night, I—And I—”

Shit. A sinking feeling starts to weigh Yoongi down, his center pulling the rest of him in like a black hole. And he doesn’t need to hear the rest of this to know what this call is about.

“He was looking for her, Yoong, and you weren’t there, either. He had this look, I—I couldn’t think of anything else to say in the moment and I told him—”

Jimin can’t even finish his confession. And it hits right in the gut.

Despite his perceived persona, Yoongi doesn’t like hearing people cry. At least, if they don’t deserve to or don’t deserve to be sad—or if they’re you. He could care less about the rest.

But Jimin is one of the only people that can get him like this: eyes stinging at their edges and his chest concave. In the dark, though, no one can tell. No one can see him.

So he can openly swipe at his eyes before dumping tired limbs into a chair, catching his forehead in a damp palm.

“I’m an idiot. I’m sorry.”

Exhaling through his nose, Yoongi tries his best to calm his emotions. Because they are still raging and it’s going to take all of him to quell this tempest.

Jimin knows more than anyone what this means to him. To you. The time you spent apart? If it wasn’t for his friend, Yoongi may have been in a much different position. If this was the only thing Park could do, then his effort has to be acknowledged. It worked like a fucking charm.

But goddamn, Yoongi wishes Jimin thought of literally anything else. He could’ve made up some random, some fling from another city, the damn studio itself.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally rasps out. “It’s just been a fuckin’ day.”

Jimin sniffles before cursing at himself and, judging by the sounds on the line, Yoongi figures he’s opening his fridge. If he reaches for soju, that would not be surprising in the least, and now that sounds like a good idea.

“Same. Gah, I just… I should’ve warned you. I didn’t know he went over there.”

“He told you?”

“I called him after you didn’t answer earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, I passed out after he left.”

“Ah.”

Something shuts before there’s a crisp clink on the line, validating exactly what Yoongi was thinking.

“I really am sorry. What did you end up saying?”

“That it’s done.”

A hum.

“That’s very true.”

There’s a question that Yoongi thinks to ask. Context that he needs. But as important as this information is, Yoongi doesn’t feel like talking about it right now. Or ever. But now still counts. So he switches the conversation over to something less daunting, “Practice still on tomorrow?”

When Jimin laughs out of surprise, it gives Yoongi the smallest kick of energy.

“Ah, someone actually ready to go for once?”

“Yeah. The plan is to make this game quick.”

A hearty swallow spills out of the speaker before a hum follows,

“Mm, that reminds me. Got something that might help with that.”

What the hell does that even mean? “Huh?”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow. You might find some good uses for it.”

Yoongi rubs the grogginess still clinging to his face. “All these years and you’ve never given me a straight answer.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Knowing the answer.”

At least Jimin’s back in a good mood. Or a better state than puffy-eyed and regretful. He doesn’t have to share the pain in this, too. It was an honest mistake.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Annoying.”

“Love you, too!”

Yoongi’s huff billows through his nose, and Jimin’s energy almost brings enough strength for him to clear the table.

Ehh. He’ll leave it alone. He’s been pretty good at that lately, too, no matter how early or late it is in the night. What time even is it? Checking his phone, Yoongi’s brows crease when he figures that out. Why the hell are they even on a call right now? “Wait, is it really three?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m telling you, dude, I was getting worried.”

He was really about to drive over? “Sorry. I really did just pass out.”

“Mm. Well, I’m gonna go do that now.”

“K. Same time tomorrow?”

“Ah, a little earlier. Just so I can give this to you before everyone else shows.”

That just makes Yoongi infinitely more curious. “Seriously, what did you get?”

“Relax! You will like it.”

“Chim, I swear—”

“You’ll thank me later bye!”

As soon as Jimin disappears from the line, Yoongi is left alone again.

Exactly where he always ends up.

Exactly where he doesn’t want to be.

But now that he’s done dealing with those notifications, Yoongi roams lidded eyes over his screen again.

Wait. You called him six times? Fuck. What did you text? Were you wondering where he was, too?

Hustler [20:01]: HOLY FUCK!! my phone died after i tried calling you this morning and i just fully woke up to charge it😭 he’s not home so call whenever

Yoongi clutches his phone a little tighter.

He very much would’ve rather been in your bed with you all day.

That sounds like fucking bliss.

Hustler [23:37]: tried calling but he’s home now. are you ok?? idk what’s going on with him but i think we need to be careful

Shit, Yoongi didn’t get to tell you. You’ve probably been worried about that every second you’ve been awake today.

And he couldn’t even make it out of his goddamn room to help.

All he comes with is worries for you. What kind of shit is this? What is he even doing? He even outright told you that you were dating only for that to be ripped from your hands for months. Why are you still giving someone like him a chance?

Hustler [23:40]: but all i wanna do is see you

Fucking hell.

Nothing in the world can stop his heartbeat quite like you can. With that smile, or those eyes, or the simple shit like this. Not even lightning can strike him the same way.

Despite the consistency Yoongi has with admitting his own shortcomings, and despite the way he keeps reminding himself he doesn’t deserve you…

All he wants to do is see you, too.

You’ve been more than he ever would’ve imagined—your consideration, your intellect, your mind. And there have been times when you’d look at him as if he was the center of your galaxy.

After all this time. All these days and nights.

You still don’t realize that he was destined to orbit you.

It’s been decided long before his mind was made up—at least, the part of him that doesn’t traverse the dark side. His heart had been tugging him to you ever since that rainy day, no matter where he’s drifted or which direction he’s gone in. All of them lead back into your arms.

But just like the feeling he gets walking into the recording booth, imposter syndrome eats him alive and doubt scavenges on what’s left.

He will never be good enough for you. One of these days, you will realize that you don’t have to settle for him. It’s good now, but you’ll only give him so many chances, which he is swiftly running through at breakneck speeds.

How fucking stupid. Having these thoughts while wanting nothing more than to hear your voice.

Just like everyone else, you’ll eventually be done passing through. His winter will return after your inevitable departure, all the warmth you give focused on something else that deserves it more.

Something that isn’t broken.

Yoongi whips his head up at the sound of buzzing, noticing thin lines of light beneath his phone on the table.

What. No way.

From the rapid beats inside his chest, he shoots his hopes right into the dark.

And they burst into beautiful sparks when he reads his screen.

Hustler: Incoming Call

But just like the streaks of color he witnessed with you on that balcony, his brightness is short lived. Because as soon as Yoongi answers, the way your throat constricts scorches his windpipe through.

And the first thing you attempt to get through makes his eyes shut tight.

“Are we… is this over?”

Fuck.

“I get it, if we are. If you—if you don’t wanna do this with me anymore.”

Fuck. Fuck everything this is not happening right now. “Hold up,” Yoongi breathes, body on full alert. “What’s going on?”

“I thought… When you weren’t picking up, I—”

“Breathe, babe,” Yoongi softens, hating, hating, hating himself all over again. “I passed out before you called. That’s it.”

“Oh. Shit, I really thought—”

“You would know,” he whooshes, syllables squeezed out by the mountain of regret on his back. After hearing what he put you through? Hearing how you sound now? There’s no way he can do that shit again. No more disappearing from the grid because he can’t fight himself. “You would know if I was done.”

Your sniffle sinks the ship with his heart inside.

“Are you? With me?”

Yoongi folds, fingers digging through his hair and blocking it in hard chunks. The amount of things he wants to say to you could wrap the whole world before repeating. But he settles with a truth he can say out loud,

“No way in hell, doll.”

Please. Don’t cry. Because he can only handle feeling his eyes sting so much in one night. There’s only so much he can take before he’s grabbing his keys and speeding over—friends and brothers be damned.

“Okay… I’m just. It’s been a day.”

That’s okay.

Because he’s had a day, too.

“I don’t wanna bother you with it, though, it’s so late.”

Please keep going.

Please don’t leave him alone.

“Talk to me.”

Like a gentle stream, your recap—though not ideal—washes away the weariness from Yoongi’s eyes. Lifts the weight he bears on his shoulders, even if just a little bit.

You’re so good at that.

“Well. Umm. He saw me coming home this morning. And, umm. It was weird. I don’t know why but I think we have to be really careful. And ugh, it—. It sucks because he’s going on a trip soon and I don’t wanna stress him out even more but I—”

Shit, you’ve probably been holding all of this in ever since you got up. You don’t know that your brother believes something entirely different. But of course you’d be considerate, even now. That’s just who you are.

“I, umm. I feel so fucking bad about it but I don’t wanna mess him up right now. Or maybe he knows but just won’t say it? Fuck, sorry, I’m trying not—to—”

The phone goes mute, and Yoongi’s head suddenly weighs ten times heavier.

“He doesn’t know, babe,” he soothes, hating how he can’t be there to comfort you with more than his word and waves in the sky.

If he was stronger, things could be different by now. Vastly different. Vastly better. You would cry less, he knows that for damn sure. Weak, weak, weak. That’s all he fucking is.

The only one he seems to be strong for is you. “He came over earlier.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah.”

You pause, seemingly to roll this information around that beautiful mouth of yours, and Yoongi has the strongest yearning to kiss all your worries right out of it.

“What did he say?”

Shit. You’ll just have to forgive him later. Because Yoongi chooses not to tell the whole truth. You don’t need to bear the same worries as him, anyway. They aren’t yours. He will shoulder all of those on his own. Because he’s the reason for them in the first place. “Nothing about us.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”

Good. Your relief is all that matters. But Yoongi still feels bad for not being able to pick himself up. You could’ve known that a lot sooner if he was stronger. If he was better. “So don’t worry, doll.”

“Okay. What about you? Are you okay?”

Huh? Your questions catch him completely off-guard. It’s almost comical how his first reaction goes straight to a No. But sticking to his earlier stances, he won’t bother you with any of that. There is a truth that he can admit. One that’s always true and will continue to be so. “Just wanna see you.”

And this is when his eyes slowly shut. Don’t. Don’t cry.

“Me, too, baby.”

Hearing that? Chipped and broken from your lips? That is another thing Yoongi can’t handle. His heart beats once before it free falls, and he clutches his phone just a little tighter.

Fuck everything. He’s gonna find a way to do this. All of it.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You will?”

He’ll figure out how to move mountains to make it up to both you and your brother.

“Just a little longer.”

He has to.

“Okay.”

Neither of you deserve this. And he doesn’t deserve either of you. Truly, the only thing he deserves is to be alone. And judging by the way things are going, it’s only a matter of time before you start resenting this behavior and leave, too.

“Thank you.”

What? Something in Yoongi flickers, and he lifts his whole head to eye his screen.

“For putting up with me.”

Oh. Of course you’d assume you’re the issue. Seems like you need the same type of assurance that he does. Both of you the same? Who would’ve thought his bruised soul would sync up with a perfect one like yours.

At this, he holds his breath before chuckling soft. “This has been the highlight of my day, doll,” he admits, finally breaking into a tiny smile and sitting back.

“Really?”

Wait. There was another good part of his day. But he wants to save that for when he can tell you in person. “One of them. But you’ll hear about the other one later.”

“Boo.”

Cute. Wait, isn’t it absurdly late? You have to be up for work in mere hours. It’s a miracle you reached out when you did. “Don’t you have to be up soon?”

“A ha… Yeah.”

“What are you still talking to me for?”

“I miss you.”

Well. That’s not something that he expected. And your admittance being so immediate actually sends shivers down his arms.

Yoongi can only laugh to himself. He knew he had it bad, but this feeling is something else. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what? Miss you? Yeah, right.”

God. You’re getting too fucking good at this. He’s gotta fight back or else his throne will be taken before he even sees you again. “Just a bad night to say it, doll.”

“Why?”

Perfect. “Cus I’m willing to get in the car.”

“Fuck.”

Yoongi happily lets his mouth slant when you groan, chuckling into the receiver and getting up to clear the table. When he flicks on the kitchen light, he doubles down, “Wanna try again?”

He knows you’re gonna say no. Even though your brother doesn’t know, it’s definitely not a proper time to sneak you out—as much as he fucking wants to. Fuck, to be the one sneaking you out of your house… Maybe there’s another version of you both out there that’s done it. A version of him watching a version of you creeping out to his car, face shining in nightfall and etching a permanent smile into his heart.

“I hate you.”

Yoongi should’ve expected that. The sudden laugh that flings out into his liquor cabinet ricochets off multiple bottles, and he shuts it while sporting a wide grin. “That’s better.”

“Ha ha.”

You’re smiling, too. Cute ass. Just the fact that he knows makes him excited for the future, and he’s determined to make it count. Make it worth it. You deserve every goddamn apology he can give. “I miss you, too, babe,” he whispers, grabbing the glasses from the table to wash in his sink.

“Nu uh! You hate me, too.”

Wait. Did you…

Did you just pout?

Hell no, that’s outright cheating. That’s when Yoongi will never be able to win. Putting the phone down, he promptly states his new plan into a basin, “Nah, I’m going to sleep.”

“Wait, huh? Why!”

“Nothing.”

“I swear to god—”

“Nothing at all,” Yoongi lies, voice straight as he can muster while hot water runs over his hands. It’s a good kind of sting as his chilled skin adjusts, and he cleans one glass before he hears you ask in his ear,

“Getting ready for bed? Or are you in the kitchen?”

The smallest smile graces his face. “Guess.”

“Kitchen.”

The hell? “How’d you know?”

“You’re always in there.”

Can’t deny that. The glasses are both set to dry in the dishwasher as Yoongi’s amusement dies down, and his next comment flows out before he can think much of it, “You like to keep me in here.”

“It does seem to be where we end up, huh?”

“It does.” Which is fine by him. He’ll never forget all the times you’ve been in here. Your laughter and your storms, he will remember them all.

“The world said let them cook.”

Your giggles will be the fucking end of him one day. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you. He may even find a way to see you before the game.

But for now, Yoongi will figure out how to talk to you, every day, no matter what. Texts, calls, whatever the fuck. The effort has got to show from now on. No more of this dark headspace shit. He needs to try harder and figure it out faster. For you.

“Go to sleep, doll,” he huffs with full cheeks.

After another adorable batch of sounds, you rustle on the line before sighing,

“You better sleep, too.”

“I will.”

With a blink, Yoongi notices two things. One, he just cleared his table and cleaned up without even thinking. And two, despite feeling like absolute shit the entire day and dreading the coming of night, falling asleep won’t be an issue.

Because of you. It’s always you.

Maybe there’s a way out. Maybe he can finally face it all and come out on the other side. “Talk to you tomorrow, babe.”

“I’d like that. And you’re sure he doesn’t know?”

Just like that, the demons are knocking again. Closing his eyes, Yoongi murmurs into the receiver, “I’m sure.”

There will come a time when he will tell you. But that will be way in the future, when he is ready. For now, you’ll just have to trust that he’s telling the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough for it to calm your nerves.

“Okay. Good night, baby.”

One more heartbeat to get him through the night.

“Night, doll.”

When the phone cuts, Yoongi’s hand falls, his stare shifting straight to the living room.

Right towards the corner that stares back.

It’s been five days.

But it feels like you’ve aged twenty-eight years.

Ever since your brother confronted you—after your much needed reunion with his best friend—you’ve been floating through time. Lost. Confused. Wondering why that conversation went the way it did and gnawing at your sanity bit by bit.

And even though Yoongi explicitly told you he didn’t say anything concerning your relationship, you still haven’t shaken that feeling. No matter where you are, who you’re with, or on a pretty Friday like this one, you feel… Strange.

When you saw your brother waiting, you for sure thought you were gonna get grilled. It was a given you were gonna break as soon as he started asking deeper and more specific questions. The fallout was gonna happen in your own house right at your door.

…So what in the fuck was that?

You shift your legs, the chill of the office failing to comfort you in your manufactured, building distress.

Somehow, that version of the conversation proved much, much worse. Because now you’re spiraling trying to figure out why he just took your lie as the truth. Truthfully, you feel nauseous. And as much as you need to get some semblance of closure, you still feel hesitant. Because if he’s just biding time? He’s not just thinking about what to do with you.

He’s thinking about what to do with Yoongi, too.

This is so hard.

The only thing—the only thing—keeping you grounded. Is Yoongi himself.

Ever since the call you never thought he’d answer, you’ve been contacted every night. What was once days of radio silence quickly shifted to him reaching out however he could, hours of the day be damned. Just last night, in fact, Yoongi sent you texts at four in the morning, and you beam just thinking about what he said so casually.

Yoongi [3:57am]: That keyboard I told you about is fucking dope. Just got it today and it won’t let me sleep lmaooo

Yoongi [3:58am]: I was gonna say sorry for texting but fuck it you’re getting all the updates :)

No matter what it is, be it a text, call, or video chat, Yoongi seems fully committed and in the moment. Present. And it’s been… Really nice. If you didn’t have your brother’s shadow hovering over your brain, life would be practically perfect.

Forcing yourself to actually work, you manage to get some small things done. Even the meeting you attend goes smoothly and you leave any outside worries on the other side of those glass walls.

So when you get back to your desk, an awaiting paper bag makes you pause. And your whole body prepares to weep.

Only one person has ever sent you food while you’re at work. And staring inside the parcel, you would’ve been able to tell who it was from even if said person had never sent any before.

There’s a small note on top of a to-go container—one that you immediately recognize as that super good restaurant next to Jungkook’s studio.

What the hell? How did Yoongi know you wanted some this whole week but didn’t wanna risk being so close? With careful fingers, you pluck the tiny paper from the bag, opening it with care before your eyes get so teary eyed you can’t even read.

Tonight.

This man.

I got the next one.

This wonderful, charming man.

But you’re getting what I need so here’s the list:

Goddamn it, Min Yoongi.

Seeing an actual list of food squeezes a laugh through your throat in a squeak, tears rushing out of your ducts before they’re hastily swiped.

After five days. Yoongi really just sent you on a grocery run to surprise you with another meetup.

The gesture is so him that you cannot help but shake your head, ruefully huffing to no one and pocketing the note in your bag. And all your worries scatter even further.

A dinner before the big game is risky, for sure, but at this point you couldn’t care less. Your brother has his own work outing tonight, anyway, and you are dead set on breaking all of this to him soon.

Even though you are very much unprepared. And he is going to lose his fucking mind if he doesn’t know already. Fuck.

You’ve had all five days to think it over. All the possible combinations and possibilities and outcomes. Some of them are extreme, some of them are hopeful. But for a majority of these projections, you have a feeling that none of you are gonna leave it without wounds.

And you don’t know how you’re gonna save both of them if theirs are cut too deep.

Regardless, that’s in the future. Not now. Right now, you are staying in the present and working like molasses until you can jet out the door, nary a care nor concern weighing on your heels.

Tonight. He’s gonna cook for you?

You’ll have the first substantial meal you’ve had in months.

Even though you want nothing more than to see Yoongi, your nerves are still buzzing and bumping into each other nonstop. There’s a lot you still need to know. Like why he was radio silent for months, and why your brother has been a little weird this whole week.

Save it for later. Hopefully Yoongi will tell you why eventually. Or that gap will stay elusive to your brain forever.

Sliding into your car, you dump your bag in the passenger seat before pulling out the list, clutching it close and taking a leap that could either calm your nerves or spike them.

Yoongi: Outgoing Call

When he picks up, you legitimately don’t answer. Because even after all this time, you still can’t quite function when you hear that deep voice addressing you directly.

“Hey.”

All you have to do is say something. Anything. You could rattle off the damn list, stumbling over all the syllables just like they’re currently smushed together in your fingers.

But you don’t snap out of this trance until he speaks again.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you squeak out, clearing your throat while watching other people walk to their cars. “Hi, sorry. I just umm.”

You just what? Somehow lost all sense of language just from him saying hi? Get it together. Stop that racket in your stomach and say what you were gonna say. “Thank you for the food. I’m off work now so I’m heading to the store.”

He simply huffs a quiet laugh.

“Get whatever you want, too. Just let me know how much it is.”

Huh. Did Yoongi just say all those words in that order? If you heard him right, forget the damn food. You’re close to speeding directly to his place and breaking down the motherfucking door. “Oh, I definitely will,” you respond with instead of hauling ass, the words pushing through your lingering smile. “And don’t worry about that, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I got big girl money now.”

Yoongi laughs again on the line, fuller and closer this time. Are you on speaker?

“It’s like that? Maybe I should work there, too.”

“Oh, you’d hate it,” you giggle, scheming hard in your head for tonight already. Pretty bubbles in your ribs lift all your spirits. “I’m actually pretty bossy here.”

The groan that seeps through your car should be illegal.

“That is literally what I’ve been wanting to see.”

It’s your turn to chuckle as you finally make your way out of the parking lot, heading right to the market that you know for a fact has all of what he’s asking for. “I’m only that way at work, though.”

“Do better.”

Your immediate response makes his laugh crunchy in the speakers, and you go along with him because life is good. Life is fucking great right now. “Never mind, you’re paying. And I’m getting stuff for dessert now, too.”

“What? Who said anything about dessert?”

“Me,” you huff out in pride. Since he wants to see that demanding side come out so bad. With a fleeting thought, you think about what it could be like if you end up confident enough to—

“I’m starting to regret this.”

“Regret what?”

“Everything.”

Liar! Your cheeks hurt as you look both ways before making a turn. “Can’t fool me. You’re excited.”

“I am.”

The way there was no hesitation sends shivers up your spine. But it’s partly because you thought you’d be faced with another joke or dig. Not a sudden one-eighty. Stopping at a light, you clear your throat before shyness puffs right out of it. “Well, good,” you state while checking your mirrors. “Cus I am, too.”

“That’s a given, though.”

“Excuse you.”

Yoongi laughs before you hear the sound of cabinets, and you wonder which ones he could be touching.

“Mm, babe. One more thing.”

Can he stop making your heart beat two times at once? “Hmm?”

There’s a little bit of pause, followed by the clank of a pan on metal. When you hear another hum, you wonder what he could possibly—

“I think we’re out of condoms.”

Who is out of what. If you weren’t still at a red, your foot would’ve slammed on the gas because what the fuck! All you can manage out are sounds without substance, random syllables, gibberish. Nothing is computing in your head.

“Wait. Or are we?”

Okay, Yoongi needs to stop with that two-letter word before your behavior turns downright criminal. With as much seriousness as you can manage, you accuse, “Are you just fucking with me?”

And his response launches you forward just as the light turns green,

“Yeah. That’s why we’re out of—”

“Alright!” you cut in, stopping stopping stopping him because for whatever reason, this conversation is too much. Despite seeing this very man naked in many, many ways, just having this talk with him is making you shier than ever before. “Guess I’ll, umm. Get those, too.”

“Nah, you don’t have to.”

“Oh. Found some?”

“No.”

Wait. If he didn’t find some why is he telling you that you don’t have to— “Oh,” you peep in realization. A very sudden, jaw dropping realization. “Goddamn it, you’re too distracting now, bye.”

And he finally breaks with laughter that’s contagious as hell. Which isn’t fair when you’re pretending to be upset with him. Even when you can’t see Yoongi, you can imagine the way his cheeks rise and his eyes crease. The way the whole room illuminates when he’s packed with happiness.

And you want that to be the case forever.

“You’re just lucky I’m not there with you.”

“Yeah, you’d be annoying as hell.”

“Damn!”

As the market comes into view, your teeth shine as you grin, roasting this man quickly becoming one of your favorite pastimes.

“To be fair,” you start to amend, fingers drumming on the wheel as you decide whether or not to say what you want. After deciding that there’s no wrong answer here, you softly admit, “I really do wanna get groceries with you.”

There’s no words that come out in response. Only the slight movements of shuffling and water running and what could be more cabinets closing. But you don’t really know for sure—

“It’s gonna happen, doll.”

You clutch the wheel.

“Cus I want that, too.”

One of these days you’re gonna see this damn cat again.

Foot connecting with Yoongi’s door, you grunt as multiple bags burden your limbs, pride digging divots along your arms—second trips be damned.

It doesn’t take long for him to let you in anyway, and you swoon at the way he doesn’t even ask while taking some of your baggage. But the kiss on your cheek makes your heart bang into everything between the front door and the kitchen. It’s so distracting that you barely smell the spices greeting you, too.

“Thanks for getting all this,” Yoongi says as you both cross onto tile.

“Of course.” Lifting the much lighter load that you have, you revel in the small thumps and thuds on his counter. Not really knowing why. “Let’s put this up before I yell at you.”

His laugh comes out in hisses while you both start reaching into bags. “For what!”

“Sent me everywhere to find some of this shit.”

“You could’ve asked somebody.”

Feeling a bit silly and high off his presence already, you repeat his words in a goofy mocking tone, and the way he blows out air sends your belly fluttering.

And just like that, things are back to normal again. No worries about your sibling, or work, or anything else looming by the door. Inside is what matters, and the whole apartment fills with jabs and jokes as groceries find their homes.

But Yoongi finds a bag you had separated from the rest, and you snap your mouth shut when he looks inside, something rising in your core when he turns to you with an eyebrow raised. And a smirk so salacious it makes you quiver.

“What about it,” you squeak out, crumbling when he simply takes the bag and flings it through his bedroom door. “You said you—we were out, so…”

“That’s a big box, doll,” he points out on his way to your tightly bitten lip. Mouth slicing through your sanity, he approaches you with a glint in his eyes. “Got something you wanna say?”

“Nope,” you whoosh out oh god he looks way too hot in those sweats wait is that a growing bulge? “Although I will say it took me forever to pick out what—”

Sparks ignite your hands when your lips are claimed, launching them into his shirt and tugging him backward because you’ve been waiting way too long to kiss the shit out of him.

And Yoongi responds in kind, pinning you to his fridge and so, very obvious that he’s been waiting for this, too.

Heaven probably wonders how to replicate this feeling. How to imitate this treasured yearning that only he can pull from the depths of your ocean. Deep, deeper, deepest. All these kisses. Your ascending affection.

“As much as I wanna throw you on my bed,” Yoongi jokes, pulling away and giving your cheek a light tap. “I’m taking you somewhere.”

And you’re so thrown from the impact that your brain mini-resets. “Huh? We’re leaving?”

“Uh huh.”

Hold on. Wait. Is this what he meant when he said he’s getting the next one? You’re going out to eat? Together? No. No, there’s no way. Yoongi knows that’s the worst possible thing to do right now, as much as the idea is sending your belly in a frenzy. “Are you sure? What about dinner? Won’t people… You know.”

“It’s ready already,” he reveals. “By the door.”

Your head snaps to where he points out, even though you can’t see through the bar. “Really?” No wonder it smells like a cooking aftermath. All those smells twirling around your head. How did you not even catch the dishes in the sink?

But hold up, you just bought a shit ton of food! “Then what the hell was the run for?”

Yoongi blinks. Then he does it again. Expression stone still, he responds as if you were privy to his plans this entire time, “I told you to get what I needed.”

Your turn to blink.

“And I needed food.”

This man is going to be the death of you. Affronted, your jaw hangs before you grit through a smile that betrays you, “Oh, you—”

“So thanks,” he quips through another tilt of his lips. “Let’s go, doll.”

The begrudged sound that leaves you makes him kick his head back on the way out the kitchen.

“Eat.”

The container on your thighs warms you through. “Now?”

“Mm.”

“I can wait,” you assure, watching as night paints the surrounding scenery in navy and black. “We can eat together.”

“Just a bite then.”

Turning to Yoongi, you don’t see a change in his face as he eyes the road. The veins in his arm catch all the streetlight, and you gulp before your gaze falls to what he made. Music fills the car, and you decide that maybe you do feel a little hungry. So you listen to instruction, popping it open and being careful as you pluck a piece to try.

There’s no denying it. This motherfucker is a chef. “Fuck, this is good.”

Your borderline moan sends Yoongi’s shoulders bobbing, and you will never get over those low, gravelly laughs. “Sorry.” Your hand hovers over your mouth in embarrassment. “I don’t react like that unless I’m alone.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, well,” you swallow. “Course you don’t.”

A tiny peek of teeth show as Yoongi smiles, and you don’t expect what he offers next, “Just be you, doll. It’s just me.”

The next bite of food pauses on the way to your mouth. “Oh,” you murmur. “Same for you then.”

“Nah.”

“Why not?”

“Cus we wouldn’t make it to where we’re going.”

That was legitimately the worst time to put food in your mouth. Sputtering, your words come out low and chortled, “You fucker.”

His hisses are brief before he dips into silence again. As he slowly turns the wheel, you can see a glimpse of something deep in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly apologizes, swallowing as you keep your gaze.

What is that look? Weren’t you both just having a good time? “For what, baby?”

“Everything.”

Your lungs flinch. This is definitely not what you expected to hear on the way to wherever the hell you’re going. “Oh.”

Yoongi still doesn’t look your way, and with each pass of a light over his face, you catch quick snapshots of those eyes you’re still so shy of. “I, umm. I didn’t expect shit to pan out this way.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper.

After a slow motion of disagreement, his head falls forward just a bit. And your eyes find his hand clutching the gear shift in what you sadly think is frustration. “I’ve just thought about some things,” he starts, another song playing. “How worried you must’ve been.”

You look forward. Because this is the part where you can’t face him. “I was. But not for the same reason as last time.” Without a hesitation of your own, your palm reaches between your seats. And you can tell Yoongi watches as you take his hand to hold.

“I was worried about you,” you correct with softness. “It was hard because I didn’t know what to do.” Don’t fucking cry. You filled quite a few buckets already. “When you started not really saying much, I just… Hoped it was for a good reason, so. Yeah.”

You feel your hand gently pulled, which is already enough to make you melt. But when it’s kissed, you don’t know what the hell to fucking do.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Yoongi whispers into your skin, lips brushing with every syllable and painting a canvas of his reconcile. “I won’t leave you hanging like that again.”

There’s a tiny fire in the back of your throat, the embers reaching your eyes just a little too aggressively. You attempt to squash the growing flames before they flare. “Oh. Umm. Thank you.” What else do you say? Yoongi’s being wonderful, but why do you feel… sad? Why is there lingering snow on your windowsill? “Were you worried?”

“Me? Umm.” He stops at a light that he clearly didn’t want to stop at. Resting your conjoined hands on his pliant thigh, his jaw works as he observes them.

And you wonder if he thinks they slot together perfectly, too.

“…Yeah.”

Fuck. “About what?”

“That you’d hate me.”

Your heart meshes his fingers with yours. “Yoongi.”

“Or that you shouldn’t be with someone that’s gone this much.”

Fuck, he’s doing it again. Regressing. You’ve seen it happen in his kitchen and you’ll be damned if all that work, all that peeling, all that resolution amounted to nothing wait, wait, stop. This isn’t gonna be an overnight fix. And you have no clue what’s been happening, so just keep trying, trying, trying.

“I’m used to people leaving,” you joke, but not really. “Like seasons.”

He whips his head to you, and you backpedal because that probably sounded so random. You’ve got to think about filtering your thoughts a little more now that you’re getting comfortable. Yoongi says you can be yourself, sure, but you have to admit your quirks are a little out there. “I know it’s weird, but..”

He’s quiet as the light turns green. And when you don’t finish, he admits, “I think the same.”

“You do?”

Your hand is brushed as a hum peppers it from above. “Mmhmm.”

“Well.” That’s interesting. You didn’t know anyone thought about that stuff like you did. Now you wonder if there’s anywhere else your wavelengths sync, and if they’ve been syncing up all this time. “At least you come back.”

Yoongi squeezes your hand tight before he holds it against his lips. Again. Fuck, this is a lot. You’re so wrapped up in his gesture that you don’t catch what he whispers.

“Hmm?”

He glances at the center console before putting your hand back on his thigh.

“Always, doll.”

And the fire you stepped on rages back with a vengeance. Heat and sting surrounds your eyes, and you don’t hide how you press your feelings into his skin. “Me, too.”

If you weren’t lost in the surrounding scenery outside, you would have caught Yoongi’s look. But all you feel is his hand clutching you tight, and it breaks you down all the same.

The rest of the drive is spent with him telling you to eat more, and a bunch of your sing-alongs to almost every song that comes on. It seems like the tiny bit of closure opened you both up, and you don’t even realize that you’ve been on the road for a really long time.

But finally, Yoongi pulls up to a building, and you’re haphazardly rapping along to a song before you notice. Wait. What? He drove you to a rec center?

Your fingers curl around his forearm before you even notice. “What’s this?”

“Where we’re going.”

Hold on, you’re going inside? “Are we even allowed to be here?”

When Yoongi responds, his teeth make you shiver as he smirks. “Can’t say for sure, no.”

“Then why—”

He unlocks before you can finish, and you’re left in an empty car until he rounds the hood, coming over to your side and opening the door. You almost don’t hear what he says next, too focused on the jewelry swinging from his neck as he bends forward.

But you catch it, and glance once more at the sight in front of you before biting your lip—in nervousness or excitement, you can’t decide.

“You comin’?”

Damn. Obviously, you want nothing more than to see him here. And it’s much too late for anyone to be around. But if something happens… Whatever.

Your mouth finally unsticks. “If we get caught, you’re gonna pay for this.”

And you can’t resist his stupid grin. “Now get your pretty ass out before I put you in the back.”

“Yoongi!”

Grinning, he leads you out, and you follow him to the trunk. After bouncing his stowed ball a couple times, he decides to lean in and reach for something else.

Wait. Is that what you think it is? “Did you always have that in there?” you ask, pointing to the contraption that Yoongi’s using to air up his basketball.

And he does a horrible job at suppressing a smile. Which makes you burst into flutters and beats beats beats. “You liar!” Oh, you are gonna wipe those laughs from his throat. “I had to change up my plans because of you!”

Palming the ball, Yoongi tilts his head dangerously to one side. “And I got to see you,” he proudly claims. “So I’ll take it.”

You hate how the memories come packaged with what’s haunted you. What else happened during that time, and what happened after you left. But there’s no way you’re gonna bring that up. Not when the night has transformed into something so magical.

So you just clutch your food and lean on his car, opting to compliment him to wipe the murk away. “Got to see you, too,” you puff into the brisk night. Because you harbor a bit of nostalgia in your bones. And because he still makes you shy. “You and your stupid hair.”

Another bout of hisses wisp into your side. As you turn to regard Yoongi again, he slips his chains into his hoodie before continuing, and you swoon at the veins popping out of his skin with each pump.

How can he look so perfect doing the simplest things? So unfair.

After seconds that feel like an hour, Yoongi’s done. And he scans the parking lot before telling you to follow him.

What you expect is some outdoor courts. Maybe getting past a gate or two. So when you approach a back door lit by the shine of a single light, you freeze. “Are we really going in?”

Fishing something out of his pocket, Yoongi simply turns over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Oh.” You didn’t think you’d actually get inside the building. If there was an outside court just as accessible it would’ve made sense. Can you even bring food in here? Is that question even relevant? “No reason.”

“So I shouldn’t bust in?”

Huh. “What?”

“I’ve already done it a few times, so.”

“Wait!” Nerves throw your hand on his bicep before you can stop. “What if someone sees us?”

He’s so warm. And so toned. And if he plans on taking his hoodie off? You’re not prepared for whatever the hell he has underneath.

Voice softened, Yoongi tries to placate your paranoia, “They won’t, doll.”

“Are you sure? If we get caught here they’re gonna call the police and I am definitely not… Gonna…”

The object in his hand jangles, and you clearly see he was just joking the whole time because keys—keys—stare you in the face.

What is it with him and keys?

When Yoongi speaks, you feel like you’ve never done anything bad in your life, and suddenly the thought of trespassing with an official way in is so scandalous,

“You picked the wrong night to be a good girl.”

You have to admit. Seeing him so mischievous and dashing makes you wanna follow him wherever the hell he goes. Even if it gets you in trouble. Even if you were breaking in tonight, you would be all in. And that thought should frighten you, but it only does because of the wings tickling your rib cage.

How can he make you feel rebellious and yet still so shy? The power of Min Yoongi. He’s way too good at destroying you.

When you glare, the man only grins, hisses of laughter leaving him way too happily before he unlocks the door to no alarms or sirens. He doesn’t need to throw a wink your way, too, but of course he does as he lets you in. Which causes you to float through the dark entryway instead of walk oh he did not just slap your ass!

A jolt in your cunt causes you to regard him in shock. To which he hums in a feigned question. “Hmm?”

With nothing but darkness and his cologne surrounding you, it’s only natural that giddiness takes hold. Truthfully, you’re packed with so much adrenaline that you feel a little wild yourself. “You’ve been waiting to do that, huh.”

“So fucking long.”

You are not surviving the night. And you don’t give a single shit.

But as shy and out of control as you feel around this man, you also feel safe—even in a faraway, dark building that you’ve never been in before. That’s gotta say something about him, right?

Yoongi feels along the wall beside you for lights, purposefully bumping your chest with his front even though he’s securing a ball with an arm. When you question his joking decision with noises, a chaste kiss on your lips shuts you right up.

“You’re in the way,” he jokes through what you think is a smile, and you’re about to move when he flicks on a switch very far away from your shoulder.

Liar! Your jaw drop must be comical because Yoongi’s grin stretches astronomically wide. But you cannot find a retort because seeing him so chill while you’re stiff from paranoia has you at a loss.

Is this how he used to be all the time? This carefree, all caution to the wind? He’s so fucking handsome like this. No wonder he’s pulled so many hearts just like yours.

When you still don’t find any words to say, Yoongi makes it harder, stepping so close that you have to swing the plastic container away. Taking one of your hands in his free one, he gives it a warm squeeze while murmuring,

“You’re so cute.”

“How,” you ask just as softly.

And Yoongi responds with lights in his eyes. “Just are.”

Your lips mesh with his as he keeps your fingers secured, and suddenly every cautious thing in your body gets launched into the skies, too.

But it ends as soon as it begins. And Yoongi backs away from you with a smile,

“Eat.”

“Huh?”

“Eat, doll,” he orders before turning and dribbling onto the court.

When you call out that he hasn’t eaten yet, Yoongi tells you that he already did. When you look around to figure out where to even sit, you decide on the closest set of bleachers and make yourself as comfortable as you can.

Which is impossible. Because they’re bleachers. Which is now triple impossible. Because Yoongi just shucked off his hoodie and the only thing he had under it was his chains goddamn it.

If you weren’t already sitting down you would’ve fallen right into the next dimension. How the fuck are you supposed to eat in these conditions shit he’s walking over!

Your throat seizes as Yoongi approaches, face trained as if he isn’t aware of his overwhelming presence. All he does is bend to place his sweater next to your legs. But the quick smooch on your lips makes you swoon harder than you ever have.

And the way his silver taps your chest makes you mentally hold on for dear life. Wait. What the fuck, Yoongi’s taking them off right now? Right in front of you? Just as you're supposed to eat oh okay he’s handing them to you great wonderful fantastic.

The metal links feel so warm yet slightly cold to the touch. Weighty, yet light. But you clutch them in your hand as you connect a gaze to his.

“Relax,” he orders, lightly slapping the side of your thigh. “No need to worry.”

And with bangs swishing, he goes right back to the ball waiting for him. Leaving you starry-eyed to hell with silver in your palm.

…Did all of that just happen? Is any of this even real? Quite frankly, you fucking forgot what you were even worried about.

No matter what he does—simple lay-ups standing in place, dribbling to different spots to shoot, or even lazily jogging after the ball—you’re so enthralled with his actions that you forget that you’re not supposed to be here.

And it takes your last bite of food for something to finally hit you. How does Yoongi have keys to this place? Where the hell did he score those because you don’t think he ever mentioned anything about working here. Or anywhere else other than the studio.

Yet another mystery to add to this walking, bare-chested enigma.

But there’s another question forming behind your eyes the longer you watch him practice, the more you notice how he’s actually going hard. Yoongi’s really good right now. A lot better than what you’ve seen of him before.

Has he been coming here more often than he’s let on? And why does he look so… serious? You’d be surprised if he even remembered you’re here.

Setting your empty container down, you gather the chains in your hands again, deciding to slip them over your head for safer keeping. After, you grab a water before stepping down the bleachers, hanging a little ways away until Yoongi notices you’re courtside.

And when he sees you, he stops practicing immediately, jogging to you so sweaty and shining and gross and handsome and— “Wait, you’re all swea—”

You’re pulled into a kiss the same time you hear a basketball drop, salt on your tongue and damp palms on your cheeks. And you melt right into the shiny wood floor, drifting, drifting, sailing into dreamland even though you’re technically already there.

“Sweaty,” you whisper into his hot breaths of exertion, a twinge between your legs when he kisses you even deeper—breathing, inhaling, taking you in. “Gross.”

“Thanks.”

You flash a smile against Yoongi’s lips, giggling because this is all better than anything your brain could’ve conjured on its own. When you ask why he’s going so hard, all you get is a question in return,

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

Huh? Blinking, you suddenly don’t remember your own train of thought. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” He presses a wet mouth to your nose. “Did you eat?”

Laughing, you reassure him, “I did, I did.”

“Good. You bored?”

“Huh?”

Yoongi leans to softly take your lips this time, and you want to say he’s approaching the legal limit for kisses tonight. “Thought you came over cus you wanna leave.”

“And stop seeing you play? I could watch this forever.” You squeeze the water bottle a little tighter. “Just checking on you.” Another strike hits between your legs when Yoongi takes another, lazier glide over your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you forward by your bottoms, fingers slick from use.

You could do this for eternity, too.

“Well I got about five more minutes in me, so..”

This man.

“Forever might be a stretch.”

“Ah, shut up. Here,” you offer through a giggle, holding the water out for him to take.

“Thanks.” When he does, he tilts his head at just the right angle to cut you through, gulping down liquid and making you do the same to your nothingness.

So unfair. “You looked like you were going pretty hard.”

Lowering the bottle, Yoongi shifts his jaw before taunting something a ways off. “I kinda was.”

“It was kinda hot.”

His laugh makes you smile, and his next swig makes you weep. “Nah, but. This is our practice gym. I can just zone out here, so. It’s been one of those things.”

Ah. Was this one of the places Yoongi ended up during those months apart? You wish he could’ve brought you along sometimes. Or at least thought about asking. It’s nice just to be around him while he does something he likes. Gaining courage, you say exactly what’s on your mind, “You can always bring me, too. If you want.”

And it’s true. You don’t really have to do much when you’re with him, because just being around him is what brightens your day. Lifts your mood.

But you have to admit that watching him play basketball while shirtless is the biggest fucking win in history.

When did Yoongi get so close? When did his eyes retreat so far away? “I didn’t wanna bother you with this,” he admits, a drop of sweat clinging onto his chin. “I don’t even put music on.”

“You never bother me,” you whisper back. Hoping that he believes you and that he will start to accept that as fact. Because it is. “Even if you’re being annoying.”

The bottle crinkles as he smiles, and there’s a soft kiss to your lips that has no real desire behind it. Just a nice peck that sends you careening down a hill of flowers. “You won’t be feeling that way tomorrow, babe.”

“And why is that?”

“Cus of what I’m wearing.”

And he says that while half-naked? Like any look on him could get any worse. “Oh,” you scoff out, fully calling his bluff. “As if.”

Well, fuck. You don’t enjoy the smirk plastered on his face. It has you both dreading and excited for whatever demon you’re gonna run into tomorrow. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shrugs as he starts to hand the water back. “We can go soon, by the way.”

“Okay.”

But before you can grab it, Yoongi pulls the bottle from reach. “Unless,” he teases. “You wanna play me.”

“What.”

His grin shines, face glistening and turning your insides to jelly. “You told me you’d win, so. Let’s see it.”

You said that? While sober? How does he remember something like that when you can’t even recall a time or place you’d tell him something so bold. “When!”

“Right after you woke up once. Said you’re a master?”

Oh. That was ages ago. Fuck, you already forgot how did Yoongi remember?

“Oh. Well.” Your nose turns up in feigned haughtiness. “Wouldn’t wanna throw you off your game before a championship.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’d make you cry what the fuck!”

Water spills down your head in rivulets as you freeze, stunned and watching Yoongi jogging his laughs back to the bleachers like a punk. “Think you got something on your face, doll.”

“Yoongi!” What the hell possessed him to do that to you here? Racing after him with purpose, you slam into him just as he reaches for another bottle, shoving a laugh out of his throat and making him catch himself on hardwood. “Nu uh, gimme that!”

“It’s mine, I just ran out—”

“Bitch!” You lunge for another bottle lying further away, distancing yourself to quickly rip the cap off and to avoid feeling his slick back on your hands.

And it’s a lawless gym as both of you start spraying water, arcs and splashes of bottled liquid spewing over the court and soaking into your clothes and his bare skin. Which proves to get worse and worse for your wellbeing the more he gets soaked in your attacks.

Running ends up being the only option to avoid getting completely drenched, and you hightail it behind bleachers before your waist is grabbed. “Fuck!”

“Uh huh.”

You try to wrestle out of his hold, his wet forearm digging lovely into your stomach, and you’re temporarily let go just so Yoongi can spin you around.

Your back connects with solid wall, the impact shooting a grunt out of your throat before you laugh out of pure disbelief. “I can’t believe, you got me to do that,” you rush out, sentence punctuated by your breaths more than anything else.

Here you are. Under bleachers. With Yoongi’s skin caging you with radiating heat.

You can only stare as he drinks you in, no doubt looking at his silver around your neck and your chest heaving from exertion. Butterflies float across your stomach when his smile drips, and you fold as soon as he swoops in.

Everything in your being pulses hard. It’s so visceral that you teeter on the edge of sanity and logic, and the thoughts slipping through your mind are just as wild as you feel. Before you’re even aware of it, a mischievous finger slides along the hem of his shorts, and you jump at the downright boulders rolling down your front,

“Careful, doll.”

“Hmm?” You feel bad. And it feels fantastic. “What was that?”

More gravel slides down his tongue, and you shake at his attractive as fuck threat, “Fuck around and find out then.”

Your giggles add feather lightness into his murky laughs, but you’re so preoccupied that you don’t notice his hand between your legs until he slaps the inside of your thigh. “Yoo—!”

“Unless.” He leans forward. “My baby’s too scared.”

Holy fuck, you might be. Is he really willing to do something with you? In a public place very similar to where you’re gonna watch him play tomorrow? You don’t know why the fuck that’s attractive as hell, but it is.

Yoongi grips your chin, eyes falling to your lips and brows knitted before claiming your lips even harder. And despite your bones vibrating to hell, you put your all into the kiss, relishing in the growing hardness you feel against your front. An animal starts to wake inside your core, and you almost feel like stroking it. Feeding it. Raising it only for it to consume you in return.

“Fuck it, we’re leaving.”

“Huh?” Dazed, you let your vision refocus as Yoongi chuckles at your hazy state.

“Fuck this. I’m taking you home.”

For some reason, the game makes you nervous today. Even while Taehyung strides into the gymnasium with you, there’s a lingering feeling swelling in your stomach, and you don’t have any reason for it yet.

At least this is another rec center entirely. Because there’s no way you would’ve sat still knowing you had a clandestine meeting in the same place not even twenty-four hours before.

But the activity already bustling around hardwood catches your attention. Not on both sides, since only one team is here, but they are active on the other end doing drills.

Wow. They look really intimidating, matching jerseys that were clearly done professionally and warm-ups having a set routine. You wonder if this is gonna be a tough game for… Wait. That’s your brother under the basket. That’s them?

Fucking hell, Yoongi was right.

Because you’ll already never get over how attractive he looks in athletic clothes.

But team jerseys?

Seeing this man rock a basketball uniform with his toned arms and legs so visible makes you want to claw your way out of your invisible cage.

When the hell did they even get those? And why is he already slightly drenched during the warm-up alone?

As soon as you see him make a lay-up, you know for a fact that you shouldn’t be here.

Yes, you’re gonna stay and yes, you’re gonna cheer for them all game. But you are absolutely gonna feel like jumping him, which will in turn make you wanna bolt and run all the way out of town every agonizing second.

Shit, shit, shit. You’re gonna have to try your damned hardest to unstick your eyes from that man the whole time. Already, you can hear Taehyung’s teasing, and your groan is to lament your future state.

Your name suddenly rings across the gym, and four feet pause in your ascent up the bleachers. When you catch both him and Jimin waving you down from their courtside chairs, you tilt your head in intrigue.

They want you to come over there? What the hell is this about?

Sighing, you turn. “Guess I’ll go see what they want.”

“Here,” Tae offers his hand. “I’ll save you a seat.”

Your bag is transferred to his grip while you nod, and you step down onto the court, wondering if you’re even allowed to walk onto it to see them. And Jimin’s grin can be seen from miles away. “Come here!”

You gingerly step onto shiny wooden floors, making your way over and becoming hyper aware that someone else notices your presence. But you’re so puzzled as to why there’s no one on the other side of the court yet because isn’t the game about to start?

Where’s the other team? As you approach their row of chairs, your hands immediately find your hips. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s eyes stay creased as your brother explains the reason he waved you down. A very stupid, very innocuous reason. “Can you keep score?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why me?”

Your brother uses his jersey to wipe sweat from his brow, and you wince at the brand new material getting gross already. “The girl that usually does it for us is sick.”

“And you know the game,” Jimin quickly tacks on, rubbing at some tattoos on full display. Wait, are there more than you remember? When did he get more ink?

Your sibling asks another question you had in mind, “You aren’t gonna cover those?”

“Nah. Not today,” the man elongates in a stretch. “Just got another one. This one!”

Ah, you were right. “I like it.”

Jimin couldn’t look more proud. But enough of that because you really just wanna go back and observe the game from another place entirely. “Can’t y’all find someone else to keep score?”

“We don’t think anyone else can,” your brother explains, looking over your shoulder. “At least, not the people coming to watch us.”

Cool. You get to be met with heat and sweat from all these guys without compensation. How is this something you would say yes to? “Well. I don’t really feel like being a scorekeeper for free.”

When your sibling laughs with Jimin, they share a look before he says so matter-of-factly, “Told you.”

You’re sticking with that. If you’re gonna sit next to a bunch of smelly people, they’re gonna pay… you… somehow.

A ways down the row, you catch Yoongi dumping himself onto a random chair, head tilted back before he hangs it forward to wipe sweat from his forehead.

And suddenly this temporary gig doesn’t seem terrible in the slightest.

Because one, you can sit on a team bench that will have his fine ass right there. And two, this will give you a way to objectively focus on the game. You won’t have time to be distracted by a demon and his hair that’s gotten criminally long.

“I’ll get us all dinner,” your sibling slices through your thoughts. “After we win.”

“Fine,” you sigh, taking the end seat and shooting one more glance to the other side of the court. “Then I get to p—”

The air around you squeezes inward. And all sounds plunge underwater.

Because you recognize someone you knew from a dark club walking onto the court, his team looking just as sharp and cocky as his eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You don’t notice the way Jimin’s hands flex, nor the way a familiar presence walks up to join your brother.

All you can do is stare back.

And without even realizing.

You’re already rubbing your arm.

tbc. :((

a ha ha... so how do we feel? | taglist | discord!

a/n: okay, hello, loves. apologies this part took so damn long to post! can you imagine if i tried to post everything at once LMAOO yikes talk about too much at once. but i hope this part was enough to still be good on its own, and broken, pt. 2 will be... well. you can probably guess that's where a majority of my brainpower is going to go. a/n 2: thank you all for being here! it's been an amazing two years working on this series and i cannot tell you how grateful and appreciative i am to have such wonderful people alongside me. i hope this series continues to be there for you when you need it, bc it has become that for me, too. ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist ⇥ three tangerines masterlist

#ITS FINALLY HEREEE #SHEESH #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts reactions #filter for fics:#*ryenfictalk #yoongi fic #yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #three tangerines #3tan11 #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #btsfic #*latest #ryenwrites

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elliespillowprincess · 16 days

Text

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

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a/n: hi everyone! i wanted to write a story w friends to lovers trope so here it is! im not sure if this will be an ongoing series, ill just have to see where it goes!! this kinda sucks im sorryyy i haven’t written in a while ive been so busy w school </3

cw: toxic!ellie, situationship abby???, tipsy sex, fingering (r receiving), violence?, kinda public sex, honestly badly written + not proofread😭lmk what else!!

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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it was a normal friday, you had just got home from classes and were getting ready to go to a kickback with your friends to drink the stress of finals away. you were going with your friends dina, jesse, and your roommate ellie. all of you became friends during your freshman year of college, you and ellie deciding to room together. you were just finishing up your makeup, and you got up to change, beginning to take your robe off, when your door flies open.

“hey, y/n i-“ she makes eye contact with you as you quickly attempt to cover yourself, your robe already halfway off. “shit- i’m- i’m sorry! i didn’t see anything! i swear i-“ why was she still standing there?

“get out!! go!” you say, clearly embarrassed. she turns around, clearly flushed. you become extremely red, but remember this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on you getting dressed. or the second, or the third..

you walk out of your room, wearing a simple outfit of a tank top and shorts. you meet eyes with ellie, who looks you up and down, seeing what you’re wearing. it was like everything was quiet. you’ve had a crush on ellie since you met her, but you’d always assumed she didn’t like you back since she was bringing in a new girl every week. she was wearing a blue flannel with a white tank top under, paired with a pair of jeans. you couldn’t help but admire her, and wonder what she looked like under her-

“y/n!! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!!”

your trance is broken by dina, who runs up to you, giving you a big hug. you hug her back, closing your eyes and smiling a huge smile. the four of you haven’t hung out in ages. most of your nights consisted of either studying, or smoking with ellie and watching whatever dumb movie was playing at the time. the two of you let go, and you walked up to give jesse a hug as well.

“god it’s been so long since we’ve all been together!” you say, letting go of jesse. “is everyone ready?”

“yeah, we’ve been waiting on the princess to finish getting ready.” ellie says, sarcastically. you roll your eyes as jesse grabs his keys and the four of you head out to the car. dina immediately takes her spot up front, leaving you and ellie in the back. “can i have aux?” ellie says before the car is even on.

the four of you arrive at the party shortly after, everyone arguing on what music to play. jesse gets out first and goes to open dina’s door for her. “you’re cooked, jesse.” ellie says, laughing. “hey! i think its cute.” you argue back. ellie just looks at you and rolls her eyes, laughing, as she gets out of the car.

the party wasn’t full, nothing crazy. you walk in first, immediately beelining to the drinks. you bump into a large, blonde hair girl.

“woah, you good?” you meet eyes with the women’s hockey teams star player, abby anderson. you notice her hands are on your waist, steadying you before you fell.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you laugh.

“don’t worry about it, what’s your name gorgeous?” she says with a smirk. you look around, and see ellie already chatting it up with a ditsy girl. if she can have fun, why can’t you?

“y/n, and you are?” you knew the answer to this, everyone did. but you ddint wanna seem like a stalker for knowing her name when she didn’t know yours.

“abby. are you here with anyone?” she asks, scanning around the room. you hardly even notice when her hands leave your waist, steadying herself on the counter.

“oh, just my friends. i split away to grab a drink.” you slightly turn to pour a random bottle into one of the red solo cups stacked on the counter.

she laughs, watching you. “a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. it makes you blush, downing the liquor for some liquid courage.

“oh i don’t- i don’t really like guys..” you giggle. she raises her eyebrows.

“oh, so i do have a chance?” she replies, taking a sip from her cup. “do you wanna head up to my room?”

you look over to jesse and dina, they’re dancing to whatever shitty house music is playing. then to ellie, who’s clearly already had a few drinks, chatting it up with two girls now.

“sure, let’s go!”

abby grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd. you can’t help but love how big her hand is in yours, how she led you through the crowd saying hi to almost everyone. you almost make it to the stairs when you hear a commotion, and abby is shoved away from you.

“the fuck are you doing anderson?”

it’s ellie.

what’s her problem? she has girls at her disposal and she’s worried what you’re doing?

“don’t start shit at my party, ellie.” she says back, getting closer and towering over her. you knew abby and ellie didn’t get along that good, ellie always told you it was because abby was cocky and spoiled, but clearly it was more than that. “what’s your deal?”

“my deal is that you’re trying to treat her like she’s one of your sluts, she’s probably drunk and you’re taking advantage of her!” ellie barks back, slurring her words. this makes abby angrier, and you have to step in.

“ellie, it’s not that big of a deal. i said yes, im barely tipsy. can you let us be?” you didn’t realize your words sounded a little rude, but it didn’t matter. you knew this, with abby, was only gonna be a simple fuck and nothing more. she glares at you, grabbing your hand and trying to drag you out of the house. you try to resist her, but she’s stronger. “ellie, let go!”

suddenly, abby shoves ellie hard. “she said let the fuck go, ellie!” ellie’s expression changed. she looked infuriated. she drops her drink and punches abby in the face. “oh you fucked up.” abby says getting ready to punch ellie. you shove ellie away, telling abby to find you on instagram, that you’ll text her and that your sorry. you begin practically dragging ellie out. dina and jesse stop you before you can leave.

“what the fuck happened?” dina says, looking at the clearly pissed ellie.

“i’ll tell you when we get home, im just gonna call an uber, go home, and sober her up.”

“you sure you don’t want a ride? we don’t mind i-“ jesse says.

“no, it’s fine. i’ll text you guys when i get home.” you go to leave, pushing ellie out and ordering and uber.

the ride home was quiet. the uber didn’t even make small talk as usual. the air felt so thick you could cut it with a knife. finally, you stop at your house, thanking the uber driver, and go around to ellie’s side to help her get out.

“i don’t.. i don’t need your fucking help.” she snaps. you roll your eyes and continue to help her, dragging her inside and pushing her on the couch. “god, what’s your problem?”

you don’t know why she was acting so mean. true, she had a few drinks, but she didn’t usually act this this when drunk.

“what’s your fucking problem ellie? i mean, god, can i not make my own decisions?” you snap, going to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. “you fuck a new girl every week, sometimes two, and i can’t do it once?” you take the shot. “what are you so mad about?” you shout, going to pour yourself another.

you hear her shift a little on the couch. “nothing, i don’t have a problem.” you audibly laugh, she’s being ridiculous! you down another drink, closing the bottle. it makes you cough and gag a little.

“if you didn’t have a problem, you wouldn’t have fucking punched abby for talking to me.” you start to go to your room, wanting to sleep it off.

“stop.” she says. you do as she says, you don’t know why but you do. “sit down.”

you walk over to the opposite side of the couch and sit down. she sits up from her laying position.

“i just.. she has fucked almost every girl at school. i don’t want you being one of those girls.” you burst out laughing, not believing what’s being said to you right now.

“are you serious, ellie?” you look at her in disbelief. “you do the same thing as her! i knew it was gonna be a simple fuck, i knew that and i didn’t care! so fucking what if a girl has some built up tension, am i not allowed to release it how i want? god, you’re immature.”

she stares at you blankly, before pulling you in and giving you a hug.

“you’re better than that, y/n.” she says into your shoulder. “if you needed it that bad i’d rather you come to me than an ass like her, god at least we know each other.”

what?

you sit there in disbelief as she continues to hug you.

“ellie, what? do you even know what you’re saying?” you stare at her as she begins to pull away.

“y/n, i..” she trails off, just staring at you.

“you need to go to sleep.” you say flatly, getting up, tossing her a blanket, and going to your room. you didn’t wanna deal with this now, and hoped it was all just some fucked up dream and everything would be normal in the morning. ellie would be back to her playful self, the two of you back to being best friends. you get in your bed, too lazy to undress and take off your makeup, and drift off to sleep.

the next weeks were completely different. ellie hardly talked to you, and she was bringing more and more girls home almost every night. she stayed out until the early morning, waking you up with the moans of the girls in her bed.

it made you sick.

you hardly ever saw her, either. she’d try her best to avoid you, but the rare occasion where you’d turn a corner and bump into her only made her turn away back into her room.

regardless, you decided to have your own fun. you’ve been texting abby off and on, and the two of you only got so far as making out at parties, parties ellie was at. the two of you would make eye contact whilst your mouth was in abby’s, hers in another girl. but why should you care? she was the one avoiding you. she was the one who said you should just be friends with benefits.

you were studying when you get a text on your phone.

abs: hey, i’m throwing a kickback tn, u coming right?

you sit for a minute, wondering if this is really what you need.

y/n: ummm idk what kind

like crazy or chill

abs: chill

just a few friends

u can bring dina n jesse if u want

you contemplate, and decide it won’t hurt anything if you go. you type abby your reply and inform jesse and dina.

abs: starts at 9 don’t be late

y/n:🙄

you start getting ready, it’s only 7 so you don’t have to hurry. you decide to fuck with abby a little, and put on a tight dress she won’t be able to resist. you start on your makeup when you hear the loud moans coming from your roommates room. you try to ignore it, try to focus on your makeup, but it’s so damn loud. you stand up, frustrated, and march to ellie’s room. you raise your hand, about to pound the door and tell her to knock it off, when you hear something.

“y/n.. fuck- ugh” it’s ellie. there’s not another girl in there. it’s her making the noise. you can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks hearing that. you think about breaking her door down, but you’re frozen listening to her whimpers and pleads. “fuck- put my- kids.. fuck!!”

“ellie…?” you softly knock on her door. it feels like all the sound from the world has been removed. “ellie, you okay..?”

you hear shuffling. “just- what? do you need something?” she sounds annoyed, scattered.

“i heard you saying my name i just-“

she swings open her door. she’s messy, her hair is ruffled and sweat beads on her forehead. “what do you want?”

you just sit there and stare at her in disbelief. her cheeks are a bright shade of pink and she’s slightly out of breath. her smell is intoxicating.

“i just heard you say my name and.. wanted to see what was up..” you trail off. she doesn’t say or do anything, just stares at you.

“where are you going?” she asks, as if she wasn’t just caught moaning your name.

“oh um.. abs is throwing a little get together..” you say coyly.

“and you’re wearing that?” she snaps back. why was she so upset?

“look ellie- i don’t get what your fucking problem is-“

“i’m going, let’s go.” she says bluntly.

“ellie, you’re not even invited, it’s a small thing.”

“so? i know jesse and dina too, im not gonna be your little plus one. cmon ill drive us.”

rolling your eyes and arguing with her as you follow her to her bike, she hands you a helmet. “relax, y/n. what’s she gonna do?” she hops on and you follow behind her, climbing on the bike and wrapping your arms around her. “hold on tight.”

when the two of you eventually arrived after you pleaded with ellie to stay back, abby looked pissed. the night consisted of a few drinks, dina and jesse cuddling on the couch, and eventually leading to a game of truth or dare.

you were sat right next to abby, her arm around you, and ellie across the living room. it was small, only about 20 people. you were shocked abby even allowed ellie to be here, she barely even paid mind.

“abby, truth or dare?” you hear an unfamiliar girl ask.

“dare.” she says, almost as to impress you.

“i dare you to…” she looks around for a moment. “kiss alexis.”

the room got quiet, all eyes on abby. everybody know alexis and abby used to fuck on the low, but people assumed you were with her now. abby wasted no time getting up and almost making out with her, making you annoyed and your stomach churn.

“i’ll be right back, gonna get a drink.” abby says, getting up and going to the kitchen. the atmosphere was off.

“um, yeah me too.” alexis says, running after abby. “abby, can we talk?” you hear her say in a whisper.

“umm.. okay fine, ellie then, truth or dare?” a random guy asks ellie.

“dare.” she says whilst eyeing you.

“play 7 minutes in heaven with y/n”

you shoot dina a look, and start nervously looking around the room at everyone. ellie gets up from her seat, walks over to you, and practically drags you to abby’s half bathroom, shutting and locking the door. the two of you are mere inches away, smelling the alcohol on her. you had a few drinks, giving you a little liquid courage.

you two are so close, and the air almost feels thick, hard to breathe. she’s leaning against the wall, just staring at you and waiting for you to do something.

“we doing this or not?” you say bluntly to her. immediately, she grabs your face and starts making out with you roughly, catching you off gaurd and causing a moan to slip through your lips. she pushes you against the counter and lifts you onto it, placing herself between your legs. it’s too intimate, whenever you’d pull away, the two of you would make eye contact before smashing your faces together once again. you’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be one of the girls on the other side of ellie’s door, to be the one ellie makes whimper and scream.

“what the fuck is going on in there?” you hear abby shout, followed by dozens of knocks. ellie doesn’t stop, though, and only becomes more aggressive, grabbing onto your thighs. she pulls away for a moment.

“does your little girlfriend make you wet from just a kiss?” she says, staring into you. “i can feel it against my jeans, doll.” the loud bangs from abby are drowned out and all you can hear is your guys’ breathing. “tell me, y/n. does she make you feel the way i do?”

“no, no els she doesn’t.” you pull her back into a kiss as she reaches her hand underneath your dress, and discovers you’re not wearing any underwear.

“dirty slut, you knew this’d happen huh?” she doesn’t waste time before one of her fingers begins pumping into you. “you’re mine right? tell me.” she adds another. you feel dizzy, it’s too intimate. i mean, you were here with abby, now you’re getting fingered by your best friend?

“els i…” the pounding on the door only grew louder and louder, your heart racing. her index and middle fingers pumped into you at a rapid pace, her palm grinding against your clit. you wrap your arms around ellie’s neck, pulling her closer. “this.. this is wrong..” you want to pull away, you want to shove her off and open the door for abby.

right?

“do you want me to stop, y/n?” she says before kissing along your neck. “tell me to stop and i’ll stop.” she continues to pump her long fingers into you. “do you want me to stop or do you wanna cum on my fingers while your little girlfriend is trying to rip me to shreds?”

“f-fuck… fuck- no dont, don’t stop ellie.” she uses her free hand to hold your face and forces you to look at her.

“atta girl.”

“ellie i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kick your ass!” the door is on the verge of breaking, splintering sounds coming from the door. all the tension is pushing you further and further to the edge, ellie overtaking all your senses. you’re drunk on her. every pump of her fingers into your hole and rub against your clit by her palm only pushes you further and further, and she can tell.

“y’gonna cum? cum all over my hand, cmon give it to me.” she whispers. her pace speeds up and one, two, three more pumps and you’re coming undone on her, biting her shoulder and squeezing her neck tightly to muffle your moans. “there we go, that’s my girl. my fucking pussy.” she says, working you through your orgasm. you feel like you’re in a trance, like the world stopped for a moment.

that moment ended with a loud CRACK coming from the door.

#ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #ellie tlou #ellie smut

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norizz-nation · 6 months

Note

Hiii can you please do Charles leclerc x innocent reader and they have been best friends since childhood and he’s so soft for her and protective and like daddy and baby girl relationship please 🙏

Sure girl, hope you enjoy 😮‍💨

Just with me ❤️

Summary: you always saw your childhood best friend charles dating so many girls but you were there with no boyfriends so you decided to go on a date with a guy you met on tinder which charles definitely hated

Warnings: nsfw, 18+, daddy kink, size kink, innocence kink, praise kink

Although you and charles were friends since you guys were kids but nowadays you feel like he isn’t the kid you were friends with anymore. He’s a man now. A grown man. A man who always goes out with girls. He’s never single. But at the same time he made you feel like you’re someone special. Someone he can always trust, he can always share a laugh with, someone who he needs to protect at all cost. He always made you feel so safe. But no matter what, he was dating others that made you feel jealous but he knew that you would never date anyone since all your life the only guy you know is charles. But surprise, you downloaded an app called tinder where you started to talk to this guy and tonight was a date night with him.

You got all dressed up and left for your date. After arriving at the restaurant you scanned the whole place to find the guy you met on tinder. After a while you saw a hand raise signaling you thats him. You then settled yourself down and smiled at him. God, this is so awkward. You guys had dinner and talked a little but it wasn’t that much of a nice date. Honestly you dont even know why you’re here. Maybe competing charles in this was a stupid idea. “Hey um.. i had fun but i guess i gotta go now. I’ve got some stuffs that needs to be done” you said as you grabbed your purse and got up and you felt a hand grabbing your wrist harshly as you turned around to face him. God. He was not looking safe. You got so scared and tried to pull away but he grabbed your wrist hard and pulled you closer to him. You tried your best to pull away. “Let m-me go!” You said sounding frustrated. “You’re not gonna leave until we do something fun. We’ve met on tinder for a reason my love.” He said calmly as you started to scared.

You were a virgin. Although you’re charles’ age yet you never had sex with anyone. Your mind started to wander as you were hoping to see charles somewhere at the restaurant and thank god. Miracle happened, you saw charles from a distance and caught his eyes. At first he waved and smiled at you but his smiled slowly disappeared as he saw you with another guy. Someone he definitely doesn’t know. Someone who looks really unsafe and psychotic. Charles’ expression was a concerned one as he came to your table. “Whats going on here y/n? Who’s this guy?” Charles asked as he pointed a finger at him. You were so caught up in that situation that you weren’t able to answer his question. “Y/n?” He called out and you flinched and looked at him. “Im her boyfriend” that guy from tinder said as charles turned around to look at him and then looked at you. “Boyfriend?” Charles asked, looking at you as his brows furrowed. “Where did you even meet him?” He asked you. “On tinder” you said sounding embarrassed. Charles then scoffed as if it was just silly to him that you went on a date with someone from tinder. “But charles he’s not my boyfriend!” you explained and he just nodded and smiled. “He was kinda forcing me to sleep with him” you said, your words were like little whispers. Charles’ smile faded as he looked at you, his eyes so serious, his stare burning you. His jaw clenched when he say you so uncomfortable in front of that guy.

It felt like a movie when you saw charles punch that guy out of nowhere. Everything just happened so fast. “What the fuck man?!” that guy shouted as everyone looked at our way, gasping. “Charles! Stop please!” You screamed at him as you tried to pull his away from that guy whose nose was bleeding right now. “Apologize to her, right fucking now! If i see you near her again I’ll fucking kill you. I fucking swear you’re gonna be fucking dead.” Charles said as he grabbed his collar. That guy then got up and immediately apologized to you and left murmuring some “total asshole” or something.

Charles then turned to see you looking up at him. He then went closer and hugged you tightly and kissed your head, brushing his fingers through your hair. You let out a long sigh as your grip around him tightened. “Its okay y/n, im here now. You’re always safe with me, i promise” he said as he looked down at you smiling softly as you smiled back at him.

After reaching home, your home, you laid on your back in your bed as you groaned because you were tired as charles took his shoes off. You turned your head to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be with your i dont know 8th girlfriend of this month right now? Why are you here?” You asked. His face was really pissed for some reason, and you didn’t know why. He came closer to you so he was standing right in front of you as you looked up at him. God, you always loved him so much. He’s so beautiful. His thumb brushed your chin as your mouth started to part a bit. “Its so cute how you think you can date others just because i always date others. Well good news for you. Your trick worked. You did make me jealous” he said as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “but i know you’re always waiting for me. I know you’re still a virgin only for me and its so cute” his words made your heart beat faster as you looked at him, his smirking face making you more needy for him.

“But you’re always busy dating others. Im tired of waiting for you charles” you said as you sighed. Charles just giggled at you “you’re so innocent baby. you do know that right?” he said as he brushed your hair away from your face. “I always loved you, i just wanted to see how you would react to it. And it’s so cute that you wanted to make me all jealous for you” his face was just an inch away from yours. You parted your lips but he just smirked and pulled away giving a soft kiss on your nose. You then whined out as Charles sat on the edge of your bed and rested his upper body’s weight in his palm. “Get up baby girl” he said as you got confused. You got up standing in front of him as you looked down at him. “Take all your clothes off baby girl, nice and slow. I wanna see what I’ve been missing all this time” he said as you softly smiled at you. Your cheeks grew red as you unbuttoned your top and pulled your skirt down along with your panties and unhooked your bra. You then bend over to take off your heels but charles interrupted you as he got up and towered in front of you. Although you were wearing heels yet charles was like a giant in front of your figure. “Keep those heels on, you look so hot like that, so pretty. All for me baby girl?” He asked as you nodded. He then cupped your face and made you look up at him “you gotta speak with that pretty little mouth of yours baby girl”

“Im all yours charles” you said he smiled but his smile disappeared after few seconds. You were feeling so needy just by the fact that you were naked while charles was still fully clothed. You were wearing nothing but your black heels. “Charles? Baby girl i dont think you’re that innocent that you dont know what to call me” he said as he brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Im all y-yours daddy” you said softly as you looked up at him. His smile grew as he kissed your lips softly “that’s my good baby girl” he said.

You dont know how much but you were literally squirming for him right now. Your legs on his shoulder as he kept teasing you by rubbing your clit with the tip of his dick. The wet sounds it made was making you more whiny and needy for him. “Please daddy j-just fuck m-me please” you begged. “Are you sure you can take it baby girl? Can your pretty little pussy take it like a good girl?” God his words made you so over the edge right now. “I-i can, please d-daddy” you whined out as charles pushed his dick inside of you. Your jaw dropped as your head fell back and your grip on his forearm getting tighter. “Fuuuck you feel so good baby girl, so fuckin good” charles groaned as he fucked you in a slow pace, letting you adjust first.

“Daddy i-its so f-fucking b-big oh my god!” You screamed those words as charles’ pace got faster. His hips slapping your ass as he thrusted harder inside of you. “You’re so perfect baby girl, so beautiful fuck” he said breathlessly as he groaned more. His groans made you come closer to your orgasm as you felt your legs starting to shake, forehead sweating as you bit on your lip to adjust to the staggering amount of pleasure he was giving you. You couldn’t even tell him before cumming, you were so caught up in your orgasm that you forgot to tell him that you’re gonna cum. You then let out a loud groan as charles stopped his pace and stayed in that position for a while.

You then got up and sat on your legs as you looked up at charles and he knew what you were thinking. He jerked off as you sticked your tongue out. His groans were getting louder and you looked at him straight in the eye as he came on your face, some landing in your mouth and some all over your face. You then smiled at him innocently as charles brushed your hair off your face as he looked at you with a soft look on his face “you’re so beautiful when you’re just with me and no one else baby girl” he said as your smile grew bigger.

A/N: requests are open! feel free to ask what you want me to write! luv you ❤️

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disneyprincemuke · 1 month

Text

mrs all american * fem!driver

who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?

pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: if u think u've read this before, u probably have but like,,,,,,,,,,,,, i rewrote the entire thing to fit the new vibe so hey lol

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

“there she is,” oscar mutters, pushing himself off the wall he’d been leaning on. “we’ve been looking for you all weekend. you’re barely around.”

the girl in her team gear, stops immediately with wide eyes and turns to her friends. “what? oh, hi.”

logan furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head. “where have you been? you’ve been so unreachable since you arrived in vegas. is everything okay?”

she tilts her head, looking curiously between her two best friends. “what do you mean? i’ve been here all weekend. maybe you guys just haven’t done enough to find me.”

she knows exactly what they’re talking about. the entire weekend, she’s been camping out in her driver’s room avoiding everyone else. for good reason: her boyfriend’s finally had the time to come out and watch a race.

not only that, she’s finally decided to just rip the bandaid off and introduce him to everyone with his consent, of course. she’d been hiding him from everyone, afraid that they might scare him off too quick with their antics and borderline insane behaviour.

logan throws his head back. “you’re being kinda weird. is somebody threatening you with something again?”

“you’re being weird,” she mutters, looking towards the andretti racing home. “i’ve just been really busy this weekend. lots of stuff for me to do and go over with sebastian.”

oscar hums, tapping a finger on his lip. “but i’ve seen liam more than you.”

“it’s just sebastian and i. racing strategies and whatnot and telling me what else i need to fix with my driving,” she shrugs. it should really be concerning that lying to them has become a common occurrence lately and it’s slowly becoming easier. but it should also be concerning that they hadn’t noticed up until this weekend the increased secrecy from her side.

though, it shouldn’t be all that shocking that they’re starting to know less and less about one another’s lives. logan has moved out, after all.

“you’re sure you’re alright?” oscar tilts his head, furrowing his eyebrows in concern. “are we still going out tonight?”

“yeah, of course!” she nods a little too eagerly that she doesn’t notice logan and oscar exchange a look. “i was just busy leading up to the race. i swear i’m fine, guys.”

oscar hums. “alright. we’ll see you later for the parade.”

she takes a step back at the group of older drivers gathered outside her racing home. “what are you guys doing here?”

“p wouldn’t stop saying something about seeing a guy she’s seen on the tv in your garage earlier when she passed it,” max mutters without turning his head to look at her, just continues to crane his neck to try and make out the faces through the windows looking into the hospitality.

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “what?”

“yeah, she told me too,” lando says, mirroring max’s actions. he tilts his head before turning around. he stands a little straighter and points at her. “we asked liam and he didn’t know who the andretti guest is. you don’t know anything about that, do you?”

she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i don’t recall having a big name guest in our side of the paddocks today.”

“really?” max turns, furrowing his eyebrows. “at all? don’t you usually know stuff?”

she shrugs and starts to walk towards the stairs leading to the main doors. “not this weekend, no. i’ve been pretty busy with my own stuff.”

lando hums and rests his hands on his hips, following her towards the door. “really? you’re not lying to us? this is important to p — you love her. just tell us who it is.”

she holds her hands in the air and laughs, turning around right before she walks in. “i’ve literally got no idea who they decided to bring in. you might have better luck with seb.”

max shakes his head, lips pursed in frustration. “we already tried asking him earlier. he doesn’t seem to know who the guest is either… how is it possible that none of you know?”

“i haven’t really paid much attention, really,” she lies with another shrug before turning on her heel. “i’ll see you guys later. save me a spot with you guys on the wee truck, okay?”

“open the door!”

she flinches from her spot on the beanbag, jumping off as she looks at the man previously cozied up with her. “that’s my teammate,” she whispers at him. “what do i do?”

matt throws his hands in the air. “why are you asking me that? like you said — it’s your teammate.”

“i have to open the door. what am i going to do?”

“well, you invited me so i could meet your friends. what’s the harm in meeting liam before the race?”

she contemplates for a second, looking up at the ceiling momentarily. “you don’t know these twats like i do, if i tell them about you now, i’ll never hear the end of it.”

he hums, scrunching his nose. “so what do you wanna do now? he’s at the door.”

“open the door, mate!” liam’s voice comes from the other side, the door rattling slightly as he knocks again. “i know you’re inside.”

“give me a fucking minute!” she screams, hurling a packet of maltesers next to her on the ground towards the door. “be patient!” she looks back at matt. “i need you to hide behind the door for now. i promise you’ll get to meet my insane teammate and friends after the race. just not now.”

he laughs, letting her pull him up from the beanbag, dragging him behind the door would wind up after she opens it. “okay, well be careful not to give too much away.”

she opens the door and fixes her hair, sighing exasperatedly. “what do you want?”

“seb said he’s been texting you to come down. they want to have one last team meeting before the driver’s parade,” liam rambles. “and what took you so long to answer the door?”

she blinks blankly at him, trying to take her brain for a believable lie. “i was finding my clothes.”

“clothes… what would… what?”

she hums, nodding. “i was naked. sorry.”

liam throws his head back with a groan. “okay, i’m sorry i bothered asking.” he turns around and takes a step towards the stairs, “seb wants you downstairs as soon as possible. i’ll see you in a bit.”

she closes the door when liam takes a step on the stairs, turning to her side and sighing heavily. she hunches over and shakes her head. “i literally hate all of them.”

“don’t be like that,” he laughs, pinching her cheek gently. “i’ll see you later, okay? before your race starts?”

she grins. “okay. blythe should be here any minute with ylona and lily then you guys can go explore the circuit again while i’m busy.” he nods, leaning down with puckered lips. she gets on her tiptoes, pressing her lips against his before opening the door again. “see ya.”

“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight. something about p recognising the guy?”

she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”

liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. everyone’s just always asking about our guest today,” liam says with a frown.

realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.

besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.

“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”

“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.

“why max and lando keep lingering outside our racing home today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”

lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i was at your side of the paddocks more than i’ve been at my own.”

she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess. according to p, at least.”

“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”

she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”

alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”

“you liar!” liam screams.

“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”

alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”

“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”

he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”

“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”

she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”

liam had been walking out of his driver’s room, on his way down for the race start when he heard two voices coming from the room next to him. normally, it would have been okay, considering he knew blythe would be around tonight.

but it’s a man’s voice, which makes it all the more intriguing.

“don’t forget to watch the purple car — i’m in the andretti, okay? not the red bull, not the ferrari or the bright papaya that’s the mclaren,” he hears her say. “you’re here to watch me.”

liam furrows his eyebrows, stepping towards the door with light feet to minimise the sounds to reduce suspicion. he presses his ear against the door.

“i don’t even know what a ferrari is.”

he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, malt. love you.”

the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.

“what are you doing?”

liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”

he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”

perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘malt’. what even is that name? did somebody actually name their kid malt?

“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.

truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.

“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.

he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.

“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”

that’s another race she finishes on the podium, on the bottom step behind checo and max. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.

she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s no driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.

she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.

“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she starts to approach them. “good job, kid!”

she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i did it! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas does is give me is bangers!”

she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me!”

she pulls away and pushes her hair away from her face and sighs. she looks around the crowd. “where’s blythe and matt? did you not bring them over?”

sebastian grins with a shrug. “they’re in the back of the crowd — blythe said she wasn’t sure if you wanted to be seen with him right now so they’re lingering somewhere back there.”

she sighs and grabs sebastian’s shoulders, nodding. “could you get them here to the front?” from the corner of her eye, she sees liam approaching her. “i’ll get back to you.”

“hey, congrats!” liam cheers, throwing himself around her and holds her tightly against him. “i know you had somebody in your room earlier and i know damn well it wasn’t blythe.”

“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers her answer before bubbling into a laugh. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”

“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”

“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of everyone’s sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”

“hey, rocky!” she whirls back towards the crowd and shrieks at the sight of her sister, then matt standing behind her. “congratulations on the podium, mate!”

“blythe! thank you!” she hops over once more, arms held out and immediately engulfed into a hug by her younger sister. “thank you so much for coming. i know you have a tournament in a couple of days.”

blythe shrugs, grinning cheekily at her. “well, you did pay for my flight… so anything for you.”

the young girl quickly takes whatever she can of a step back and gestures for matt to take a step forward. “hey, congrats! if i didn’t know any better, i’d have said you made it on the podium to make sure everyone knew i had such an amazing girlfriend.”

she rolls her eyes, hitting him in the chest softly. “shut up,” she snorts with an eye roll before she takes a step forward to pull him in for a hug. “thank you for coming and staying all weekend to watch my race.”

“obviously, how could i not take up the chance on your paddock passes?” he whispers in her ear, pulling away. he pinches her cheeks and pulls very lightly, leaning down to mush their lips together. “thanks again, by the way.”

she giggles, cheeks flushing as she tries to ignore the flashes rapidly going off around them. “how can i not?”

“oh.” liam walks up to them and leans on the railing, looking between them. “how rude — you’re not going to introduce your teammate at all to the man you’re kissing?”

she turns around. “i have an interview to do. i’ll introduce you guys later,” she scoffs, smiling apologetically at matt before shoving liam away. she looks back over her shoulder. “i’ll be with you later again i promise.”

she doesn’t notice the dutchman awaiting his interview, eyes wide and jaw dropped at what he had just witnessed happen towards the andretti side of the area. what a revelation.

“what do we have here?” she flinches as she opens the door, taken aback by the taller man — men — who stand in the porch of the racing home with arms over their chests. matt huffs when she walks right into his body, stumbling slightly and hands coming up to grab her shoulder firmly. “i saw you kissing a man after the race.”

she lifts an eyebrow. “okay? indeed i was.”

max tilts his head with a small grin, pushing her aside. the girl stumbles over her feet, matt nervously trying to steady her by reaching out to grab her arm. max holds his hand out. “i’m max. i can fight.”

“max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”

but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling past their lips.

who are you, where do you live, what are your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her, who even are you? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.

“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”

“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”

“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”

“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”

the brunette grins, green eyes piercing into their own. “i’m matt cornett. i’m an actor,” he points shyly at her, held hostage by max, “she’s my girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at matt. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”

she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”

“why wouldn’t you?” alex furrows his eyebrows with a small scowl on his face. “you’re so bad at dating — how did you–”

“don’t you look a little familiar?” george starts softly, pointing at matt with squinted eyes. “have we met?”

“last year in vegas at the club when you dragged me out and i was the designated driver,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. “we met out in the balcony while i tried to escape the horrors of the drunk people downstairs before logan came and pulled me out to go home.”

alex turns to her stiffly with a finger pointed at her. “we weren’t talking to you.”

she raises her eyebrows. “okay, sorry i tried speaking to you. i thought we were friends.”

“we’re getting to know him. we already know enough about you,” lando adds on, waving his hand in the air to dismiss her. “how long have you guys been dating?”

“5… almost 6 months?” matt blinks, smiling slightly to mask the fear he’s slightly feeling.

“ah,” alex nods. “where’d you go take her on a date? better be a nice place — that’s the princess of the grid you’re with. we protect her. i don’t care what her parents said to you.”

“it’s true. i almost beat somebody up in some alley last year for her,” max boasts with a proud smile and his chest puffed out. “even almost sued the crap out him. i would’ve ruined that man’s life if she asked me to.”

max feels the girl patting his shoulder. “not a flex, max… stop talking.”

“we went out to this really nice place in miami,” matt starts explaining softly, choosing his words carefully. “then we went out for ice cream afterwards.”

lando hums, pressing his lips together. he squints and takes a step forward closer to matt. “what’s her ice cream order?”

“rocky road ice cream with extra marshmallows.”

george shrugs. “if he knows that already, seems like we shouldn’t be here anymore,” george turns. “see you around, mate.”

a hand forcefully turns george back to face matt. “we’re not done yet, george. stay here.”

“oh, i didn’t know you were all already here!” oscar laughs, heads turning towards the bottom of the stairs leading up the andretti racing home. “heard you were kissing a boy after the race, mate. had to come and find out what that was all about.”

she sighs, throwing her head back. “yes, there’s even photographic evidence circulating the f1 gossip pages if you look deep enough,” she answers in a deep tone to mimic oscar, “it doesn’t take a genius.”

she gestures towards matt. “my boyfriend. his name is matt.”

oscar grins. “oh, hey. what’s up, mate?”

matt opens his mouth to greet oscar and introduce himself, only to find himself cut off by max speaking out.

“have you made her cry?” max asks with wide eyes. “because one tear is every punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it.”

“max–“

“oh, hey matt!” lily greets sweetly, finding her spot next to oscar on the porch, tangling herself into oscar’s arms. “did you manage to grab dinner with mick and blythe earlier? sorry i had to run.”

silence hangs in the air as lily finishes her sentence, heads turning to her with suspense. she looks around and blinks. “what?”

“you knew about matt?” oscar mutters, staring down at her blankly. “you never told me?”

lily shrugs with a polite smile. “wasn’t my relationship to hardlaunch.”

oscar shrugs, “i guess.”

only then does liam arrive with logan and ylona in tow. logan tilts his head in curiousity at the crowd that’s formed, and at the fact that his girlfriend’s just slipped out of his arms to run up the steps.

“rocky! congrats on the podium tonight!” ylona squeaks, throwing her arms around the younger girl. then she turns around with a wide smile. “sorry i couldn’t join you and blythe for dinner. lily and i had to find a bar to book a table with tonight for after the race.”

“you knew rocky’s dating matt too?” oscar almost shouts, absolutely bewildering at the vital information that seemed to be kept from them.

“rocky’s dating–“ logan finally looks past the crowd and finds the man surrounded by lando, george and alex. “didn’t we meet before? you look familiar.”

the brunette nods. “a club here in vegas this time last year.”

“wait a second,” liam puts a finger over his lip, “didn’t i meet you in new york? i took a picture of you guys, didn’t i? with rocky’s polaroid.”

matt nods again, eyes dropping to avoid the stares. “yes. i have that picture in my wallet still.”

“wait,” logan shakes his head. “you’ve met more than once in clubs?”

“well, you guys kept pulling me away rudely so we didn’t like… exchange socials until we ran into each other again in miami after my race win,” she explains softly.

logan then realises. “ylona, you knew about rocky’s boyfriend and you didn’t tell me?”

ylona shrugs, giving the same answer as lily. “not my relationship to yap about.”

max huffs. “so? what now? we just have to accept the fact you’ve got a boyfriend?”

“yes?” she cries with her arms in the air. “you guys are being so weird right now!”

— bonus

“foul,” logan mutters, shaking his head disapprovingly. “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me she has a boyfriend. when it’s rocky and a potential boyfriend, you tell us.”

lily shakes her head, poking her head out to look over at ylona. “you don’t have to. they’re just protective.”

ylona nods, pressing her lips together. “well, we met matt, you see. he’s a decent guy — didn’t seem like you guys had to run any more background checks on him than we already did.”

“nice,” oscar giggles, high fiving lily.

he looks ahead at the group walking down the strip to get ice cream first before heading to the club, her arms wrapped around matt’s as they walked and chatted with george.

“well, she does look happy,” oscar mutters. “i was afraid she was gonna end up and old maid with 20 cats in her home.”

logan scoffs. “she’s gonna end up with 20 cats regardless.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

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wannabeschyulersister · 3 months

Text

where’s that man who’d throw blankets over my barbed wire?

*another angsty carmy fic coming right up*

“Ma’am? I’m sorry but we will need the table if your guest hasn’t arrived yet,” the waiter told you. You could tell he felt embarrassed to have to practically kick you out after being stood up.

You set the nice white napkin that had been on your lap on the empty plate in front of you, “I understand. Thanks for keeping me company.”

The waiter helped you put your coat back on and you placed a nice tip on the table before walking out. It felt so humiliating to sit at that table for the past hour alone.

Carmen forgot your anniversary.

You had been perfectly fine celebrating your two year anniversary with him in your nice apartment but he was the one that wanted to go all out. He chose the fancy French restaurant and made the reservation.

He was also the one that didn’t show up.

At first, you began to panic, thinking that something had happened to him on his way to the restaurant. You must’ve texted him a dozen times. When you checked his location, you saw that he was at The Bear.

There’s no way that he would forget your anniversary. Right?

Well, he did.

You walked until you were able to find a cab. Part of you wanted to confront Carmen at The Bear but you didn’t want to make a scene. Despite how mad you were at him, you respected his place of business.

Instead of going there, you went to the apartment that you shared with Carmen to wait for him. You didn’t even bother changing out of the red dress that specifically bought for that evening when you made it home. Taking off your coat, you placed it on the hook and sat on the couch.

It was an hour later when you heard the jingle of keys and the front door open and close. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t answer him as he walked into the living room.

He set his phone and keys down on the coffee table in front of you, “Hey, what are you all dressed up for?”

“Our anniversary dinner that was two hours ago.” You answered coldly.

Carmen froze as it dawned on him that he forgot, “Fuck. Babe, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Things have been so hectic at the restaurant these last few days and it totally slipped my mind. My phone died a few hours ago. I’m so sorry.”

He sat down next to you and tried to grab your hand. You moved it out of his grasp. “I waited for you for an hour, Carmen. It was so embarrassing. The waiter made me leave because they needed the table. How could you forget?”

“I told you. It seemed like everything that could go wrong did today. We had three waitstaff out with the flu-“

You cut him off, “Syd could’ve taken care of things for one night so that you could go out with your girlfriend! Aren’t I important too?”

Carmen looked like that question pissed him off, “Are you seriously askin’ me that fuckin’ question?”

You stood up from the couch needing some space from him, “Yes, I am because this isn’t the first time! How many times have you had to reschedule our plans? How many days do I barely see you? We’ve been together for two years, Carmen and I feel like we are just two strangers at this point.”

“Why haven’t you said anything then if you feel that way?”

“I’ve tried to have date nights and I’ve even stopped by The Bear to see if you can go on a coffee break. You always turn me down because something more important is pressing.” You’d been dying to have this conversation with him for some time now.

After countless times of letting things go, you were blurting out everything that you’d want to tell him. It had all been weighing so heavily on you lately. You could feel it draining you.

“(Y/n), I inherited a mess from Michael. I had to look after everyone’s jobs and-“

You interrupted him again, “I’m not saying that you have to choose me or the restaurant, Carmen. That would be incredibly selfish of me. But…. it’s like you’re out building this life for yourself and I’m just here hoping that you give me an ounce of attention.”

“You’re making it sound like our relationship is horrible. I thought that we were doing good.”

That almost hurt you more than being stood up on your anniversary. He thought that things were good? He hadn’t noticed that the two of you were so incredibly distant?

“Things haven’t been good in a long time. When we first started dating, you were present and it seemed like you’d do anything to spend time with me.”

“That was before we remodeled the restaurant. I had more time but now-“

“Now, you’re too busy for me.”

He shook his head, “I’m not, (Y/n). I just had more time back then. Now, it’s all on me. I’m stressed out.”

“I don’t want to add to your stress, Carmen.”

“Wh-what are you trying to say?” He stood up and made his way closer to you. You could tell that he was anxious about where the direction of this conversation was going.

“I’m not happy. I haven’t been for a while. I’ve tried to make things better but I can’t do it alone. I deserve to be with someone who I don’t have to beg to want to be with me.”

“(Y/n), I don’t want to be without you. I’ll start coming home earlier and I’ll uh have Sydney and Marcus start taking some more responsibility. I will-“

“And in a month when things are super crazy at The Bear because of the holidays? We’re back in this situation again. What kind of promises will you make then?”

Carmen seemed confused, “Do you not want to work on things?”

“A month ago, hell even a few weeks ago, I would’ve said yes, but I’m tired, Carmen. Tonight felt like it was the last straw. Sitting alone, you not answering your phone, it was embarrassing and so painful. I love you so much. But I think for the both of us, it’ll be better if we weren’t together.”

“I don’t want us to break up, (Y/n). I love you.” Carmen said softly.

You pulled him closer. He rested his head against your shoulder, “We can both focus on ourselves. I’m so proud of everything that you’ve done. You deserve all of the praise that is coming your way.”

You wanted to appear strong but on the inside you were breaking as well. There was a point in time where you imagined spending the rest of your life with Carmen Berzatto.

Now, there was a strong possibility that he wouldn’t be in your future. Were you making the right decision?

It might’ve felt like you weren’t in the moment. You just wanted to feel wanted and happy and with someone who couldn’t get enough of you. Carmen was that man at first. Things changed for the better and for the worse.

“I hate that I took you for granted. I will regret it for the rest of my life.” You felt him kiss your neck softly.

“I’ll still be here if you need me. You know that right?”

He nodded as you both stood there wrapped around each other saying your goodbyes without words.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x (y/n)#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #the bear x reader #the bear imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto

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sleekswosobession · 4 months

Text

ignored

alexia putellas x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: this photo is my roman empire and new tiktok pfp 😜 (my titles on fics or SO over dramatic icl)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Being the second captain of Barcelona, meant coming with a few responsibilities. Like showing new players around, and trying to include them in the atmosphere to make the whole move less daunting. It probably makes sense considering we are the best in the world.

Which is what’s happening right now, we’ve signed a new centre-back, considering we barely have any due to injuries. Currently we rely on a defensive midfielder, and anyone we deam can do it. Not ideal. January transfer is like heaven.

We walk around, talk about our lives a little bit as I try to make conversation more homey. Apparently she has a girlfriend who plays for PSG and I talk about Alexia, my other captain and long-time girlfriend. Who may (definitely) have a slight jealousy problem.

After a while of talking and walking, we make it to the gym and I announce the arrival.

“Everyone! As you know, we have a new person joining us! Make her feel welcome, included and we won’t have any problems. Got it?” They nod their heads going back to their respective activities as the new recruit smiles fondly at me, something which doesn’t go missed by Alexia.

I turn to face the CB.

“Now you, let’s get you headed for the locker room. I’ll show you your area and then you can go home for now. I’m assuming Jona has emailed you a schedule of everything?” She nods.

“Alright, now message me if you need anything and I’ll add you to the main group chat all of the girls are in.” She smiles and I lead her toward our changing rooms showing her where she’ll be.

“You can decorate a little bit, add some personality like some of the girls have. Anything you need can be kept here.” I point to a door at the end of the room.

“That’s the showers, obviously if you’re going anywhere after trainings. I know Patri likes to play music, so I suggest some strong noise-cancelling headphones if you don’t like the music. Any questions?” She shakes her head, I smile.

“Well then, go home. Settle into the new apartment, Ale and I live pretty close to you. Same with Ingrid and Mapi, who are also willing to answer anything else you have in mind.”

I pause.

“Now, if that girlfriend of yours ever comes to visit I’d like to meet her, I know it seems straightforward but I do like meeting new people.” I notice the recruit blushing, and pat her shoulder before leaving.

- - - - -

Over the next couple days, I ensure the new defender is fitting in well and she is. Hanging out with Ingrid and Frido but also Keira and Aitana, it’s good to see.

Alexia might think differently. I noticed her getting worked up over something but I can’t imagine what. I can but I don’t know how when a quick instagram search could cease any of her worries. She’s too straight headed for that.

It’s after training when I see her approach, I’m speaking on tactics in the locker room when Alexia slides in next to me, her arm wrapping protectively around my waist. I smirk then hear what she has to say.

“Ready to go home amor?” She says, kissing my neck softly, something she’d rarely do in such a public setting. I stifle my laugh nodding and saying my goodbyes to everyone else, getting in the passenger seat of our car as Alexia insists she always drives.

I sigh, her jaw is set and I can tell something is wrong.

“Alexia, qué pasó?” She shakes her head, her knuckles growing whiter as she grips the steering wheel. I know I can’t do anything but I seem so helpless at the moment.

It’s a completely different change from the confidence in the change rooms to now not even speaking to me.

We head inside without saying a word, I head straight for a shower to hopefully get a grip on where the conversation with Alexia will lead.

- - - - -

After the shower, I walk into the living room and Alexia is sat with her legs crossed in the couch, staring straight ahead at the blank TV. I break the silence.

“If you stare at the poor TV any longer I think it’ll break.” She doesn’t say anything, just nodding slowly her eyes darting toward me before back in front.

“I will not do this Ale. You need to tell me your feelings or we can’t work this out.” She huffs leaning back.

“Lo siento, I just… missed you.” Her voice quiet, I nod in understanding, I spent a lot of time with the new defender.

“So in other words, you’re jealous?” She blows an air bubble between her lips. (do you guys know what i mean by that)

“Maybe.” I can barely hear her voice but I don’t need to.

“Well baby, nothing to worry about because A. she has a girlfriend and B. I love you more than anything. Never forget that. I’ll try make more time and maybe we can meet the new ones girlfriend when she comes to Spain.” She nods slowly.

“Sorry I acted this way.” I shake my head.

“No, it’s ok. I understand, I sort of put you aside. I’ve learnt and I’ll prioritise your feelings a little bit more in the future.” She nods, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Te amo Ale. Remember it forever.” I place my lips against hers, gently and full of passion that I’d never give to anyone but her.

When oxygen gets the best of us I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in everything of this moment. Oh, I never want to leave.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #wlw #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader

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euphoricimagination · 5 months

Note

hellooo how are you? i was wondering if i could request a scenario where reader finds out her friends were fake, and theyre super rude to her and the boys find out and how they would react. with bokuto, akaashi, and kuroo :3 and if you could add atsumu or suna in there, that would be cool but if not its okay!! thank you so much <3

Of course! Thanks for liking my works! Here's what i came up with

Feat. Kuroo, Bokuto & Suna-> Masterlist

Fake friends

Kuroo

You were sitting in the café while waiting for Kuroo to arrive, he just texted you saying that he’ll be a few minutes late to your date, but you didn’t notice the message, too in your head to even hear the ring of your phone.

Lately you been feeling like your friends were being unnecessary mean to you. Sure, you always were a bit rude to each other, you always were playfully fighting with each other, but things never cross the line about your personal boundaries…until a few weeks ago. Suddenly you fights didn’t had that playful tone in them, they started to feel real, and suddenly, they were messing with things that you had told them were sensitive. You thought that you will be friends with them despite the distance between your univerties, but when you meet up again in person everything felt so different.

You were so absorbed in your thoughts, trying to figure out if you had done anything to them, that you hadn’t listen the door of the cafeteria open, let alone the steps coming close to you or the sweet voice of your boyfriend calling your name; you only snapped away from them when a hand places on your shoulder, Kuroo looking down at you worried as he kisses your temple and sitting down in front of you.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he asked

“Eh? Nothing, don’t worry” you smile at him, hesitant to tell him

“Yeah, sure, tell that to your face next time too” he says playfully, trying to make you smile “you can tell me anything, I’ll help you out however I can”

“well, it’s just….” You sigh before explaining to him the thoughts that were in your head prior to his arrival. He just sighs, he knows your friends and he thought that your bickering was cute, but there was no mistake in their recent actions

“well darling, I could always talk to them if you want me to” he offers, trying to find a rational solution for you first “but…”

“mhm?”

“I personally don’t think is worth it to keep them around any longer” he says, he didn’t want to keep you away from them, but the hurt in your eyes wasn’t a lie “you told them you didn’t like those ‘jokes’, they didn’t listen. If they don’t respect your boundaries there’s no point in being friends”

“I…I” You listen to him attentively before bursting down crying, you knew he was right, of course he was “we’ve been friends for so long though, they were my only friends since high school…”

“I know, darling, I know” he comes to your side, hugging you “you have me for whatever you need; Kenma too, he does like you a lot too even though his personality doesn’t show it; hell, even Bokuto adores you and he met you once before” he says, making you chuckle “and I have no doubt you’ll meet more people in your classes, you’re amazing, anyone that doesn’t want to be your friend is the idiot”

You chuckle again, relaxing into his arms as you try to calm down. Everything will be alright as long as you had him by your side.

“now, let’s order something and go to my place?” he asks you

“Sure, let’s go”

Bokuto

You were hanging out with your friends while waiting for Bokuto to arrive. Well, hanging out with them was an overstatement, after all you were being left out of the conversation after trying to join multiple times, leaving you on the side while they giggle about whatever they were talking about. You eyes were stinging due to the tears that were about to come out, feeling depressed about the way this day has ended.

Originally you and your so called friends were going to hang out during the day on a convention after months of not seeing each other, and everything seemed rather normal in the beginning; but not even an hour has passed when you noticed that they slowly started to put you aside. First every comment you made was ignored or laugh off, then they left you behind while walking, and now they seemed to completely forgotten that you were even there as they talk about a relationship of one of them that you weren’t even aware it was happening. You wanted to call Bokuto to pick you up early, but you knew he had practice so you laugh it off and wait.

But once you saw Bokuto walking towards you, excited grin on his face as he waves his hand, that you tears started to roll down involuntary. With Bokuto affection and attention was never a problem, but after feeling so unappreciated today, his overexcited self was so welcomed.

He saw your tears, confused as to why you were crying before he noticed the way you were sitting alongside your so called friends. They were all together on one side of the table while you were alone on the other, no one sitting beside you as they chit chat with each other. He walked faster towards you, unexpectedly pulling you up of the chair and giving you a big hug

“Hi, my cutie pie” he hugs you tightly, the eyes of your friends popping out as they realize just who was in front of them “why didn’t you called me earlier if you were uncomfortable?”

“you had practice”

“that can wait, coach would have understand!” he adds, taking your bag in his shoulder as he pulls you even closer to him. He then turn towards your friends, who are babbling something to you, and gives them an uncharacteristically serious look “you should be ashamed, no one deserves to be ignored om purpose, let alone someone that you call your friend”

With that he pulls you away from them, but instead of going to his car, he takes you to some stalls

“Aren’t we going home?” you asked

“Well, it’ll be a waste not to enjoy this place! Besides you probably didn’t actually enjoy it, so let’s have some fun first!” he says going back to his carefree self, and while you didn’t know if he did it to cheer you up or because he did actually wanted to be in the convention, you did up enjoying it this time around with your lover.

Suna

You lay in the bed waiting for Suna to come to lay with you, watching social media while he showers after a long day of practice. You had to take your make up off, but were feeling too lazy to stand up right now.

You were supposed to go out with your friends tonight, nothing too crazy, just some hangout with them; but at the last minute they message you telling you that it was cancelled since something had come up. You didn’t mind, you didn’t really enjoyed going out anyways, so staying in with Suna make you more than happy.

That was until you entered Instagram and saw the stories posted.

You saw the normal stories from her day, until you arrived to one that was posted 30 minutes ago, in the place that you were supposed to hang out. You tried to not overthink about it, maybe she ended up going alone since she was already ready; but then you saw the next one, which was posted in the closest friend tab, with the three of them hanging out there and having fun.

Oh.

“hey, we need to buy more shampoo, we close to running out of – you okay?” Suna tells you going out of the bathroom, only a towel on his hips. You pass him your phone, letting him see the stories your ‘friends’ posted as he raise his eyebrows, visibly annoyed “those bitches are the lowest of the low”

You chuckle weakly, you knew he would be the first to curse at them

“hey, you haven’t take that pretty make up off, have you?” he asks tossing the phone in the bed, taking some clothes off the closet

“No I haven’t, why?”

“Well, put some pretty dress on, were going to have some dinner” he says

“weren’t we going to order some take out and watch movies?”

“and let them think they won? Not in my watch, pretty, they have the nerve of post their hangout knowing that you’ll see them, so now it’s your turn to brag”

You chuckle, he was petty, you knew that, so this shouldn’t surprise you at all

“and how do you plan to find a place with space for us?”

“nothing some money can’t help” he winks at you “lets go, a fancy dinner is waiting for my pretty girl”

You did end up in a fancy restaurant, in a table with the best view of Tokyo and the group of your ‘friends’ blowing up with notifications about how sorry they were. You’ll make sure to block them later, for now you’ll enjoy the dinner with your boyfriend.

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totaly-obsessed · 5 months

Note

Could you write for Ella where reader is also a footballer but reader tears her ACL

Jersey Dispute

Ella Toone x reader request

-> Reader tears her ACL - sending Ella into panic - fluffy

-> probably not the correct timeline of a healing ACL

-> Combined with this request!

-> I hope this is okay, @ anon's!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Ella hated knees. She really did.

Your girlfriend had been on the pitch, not too far away from you when you had gone down in a Manchester derby. Forgotten was the color of your shirt as Ella rushed to you. To her surprise you weren’t crying, you just sat there, waiting for the medics. “I tore it.” Those words still haunt her in her sleep.

You had waited for her outside of the changing room and together you slowly walked to the car. The ride was tense, the brunette not too sure how to approach the situation, but you cracked joke after joke, trying to loosen her up.

Sure this was bad, you knew it meant nearly a year of no football for you but in the end, there was nothing that you could do right now – you were just glad that the World Cup was just over, giving you a slim chance of getting ft for the Olympics.

Waiting for the surgery was the worst but Ella gave it her best to fill the house with laughter. And she did it fabulously. Quite a few of you and her teammates showed up, wanting to see how you were doing, which led to many fun evenings playing Mario Cart and watching movies.

After a month, it finally came; the surgery to make everything worse so that you could get better again. Your girlfriend was nervous, much more than you were, running around in circles in your hospital room. She had taken the week off from training and everyone understood that she wanted to be with you.

“Ella, please baby sit down. You’re driving me nuts!” With a shamed look, she sat down in a chair next to your bed, hands pressed between her knees but she couldn’t hold it, jumping up again, going back to pacing.

“Ells, please…” You patted the space next to you, scooching over so that she fit. Now wrapped in your arms, tucked under a blanket she was finally able to breathe. “I’ll go into surgery in two hours when no emergency comes in. Mary will be here so-“ You could see her trying to defend herself, that she didn’t need a babysitter, but you put your hand over her mouth. “Shhh. Mary will come and you will go eat something. Then I‘ll come out of surgery and everything will be absolutely fine.”

Mary had arrived just in time when they took you for surgery so that she could take your frantic girlfriend out.

Just as you had predicted, everything had been fine.

Now, nearly a month later you had started physio-therapy and rehab at the Manchester City facility, leaving Ella to worry at Manchester United – so you called her every time you could to reassure her.

In the evenings it was hard for your girlfriend to let you help her cook. “Love, no! Sit back down, hmm?” Most of the time she just kidnapped you to the living room, sat you down on the couch, and went back to cook.

It was great, being able to spend so much time with your girlfriend and being able to catch up on Uni work – you loved it, Ella loved it, everybody loved it. The bickering was kept to a minimum with evenings spent curled up in each other’s arms. It was perfect, almost too perfect…

Nearly two months of pure bliss were interrupted by the first disagreement.

Manchester derbies were ferocious and the atmosphere electric, they were great. Ella saw your inability to play the match, as her opportunity to get you to wear her very red ‘Toone’ jersey. “Babe – pleaseee! You’ll look so good in it!” She had flung open the bedroom door, where you were currently sorting through the huge closet for clothes to donate. In her hands was a huge box, containing a whole stack of her shirts. “Ells we’ve been over this. I will not wear a Man United jersey.”

The brunette was whining and pouting letting the box fall to the ground, eventually flinging herself on the bed – desperate to get your attention. But you prevailed, having your back towards your girlfriend helping with that. You couldn’t cave – no way. “Quit it, Ella.”

Oof. That first name hit.

“But Baby-“ She was quickly shut up with a deep kiss after you had finally turned around, gracing the stunned midfielder with your attention. “I’ll wear your England jersey, yeah?” and with a pat to her cheek, you were gone again, leaving a stunned Ella behind.

Gameday came and Ella played her best game of the season – a hat trick and an assist, beating Manchester City four to one. Her motivation? You. Sat in the family section wearing an England jersey that had her name on the back.

And while you were sad that your team lost, there was just no way you could be mad when a grinning Ella came out of the changing room, match ball in hand, falling into your open and waiting arms, littering your face in tiny kisses.

“Ya’ gonna have to wear this every game day now – would’ve been better in a United shirt though.” With a disgusted groan, you shoved her off, but there was no chance to get the teasing smirk off her face for the whole day.

Five months later it was Ellas' turn to sit in the family section, wearing an England jersey with your name. Her legs bounced up and down, nervously waiting for you to get subbed on.

When you did, she couldn’t do anything else but grin – seeing you back on the pitch, knowing how hard you worked for this made her prouder than she had ever been.

She blissfully ignored Alessia taking a video of you coming on for Alanna Kennedy, and then turning the camera to a teary-eyed Tooney, clutching your jersey in her hands.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #ella toone #ella toone x reader #man united wfc x reader

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mrsriddlenott · 3 months

Text

Ex!Mattheo Riddle x Muggleborn!Reader

Angsty asf,Break Ups, Language, Voldemort, Wizarding War.

Summary: You and Mattheo were just wrong for each other, destined to be ripped apart. He hurt you trying to protect you, and even apart is trying to protect you still, but he can’t think of everything.

“We’re done okay, I am done. I don’t want this anymore Mattheo,” You screamed as he stopped, shocked in front of you, “I can’t keep doing this.”

“What are you- you’re not saying….” You scoffed as he approached you again, stepping back so he couldn’t touch you like he so desperately wanted to. “You can’t be serious y/n we basically just started.”

“No we didn’t! That’s the fucking problem, we’ve been doing this for months and I thought it meant something to you and then I find out your friends don’t even know who I am??” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as he tried to speak, “You wasted my time, if you wanted to just be fuck buddies I’d have been fine with that and I would have kept it a secret for you if you asked but you made me feel like…..” You laughed at your own stupidity as you turned away from Mattheo’s pleading eyes.

“Princess I didn’t just-“ You cut him off before he could finish, turning back around yelling as tears welled in your eyes, “You lied to me Mattheo, you said you wanted something real, you told me you wanted someone you could trust and that you had finally found someone and all along you were the untrustworthy one!” Mattheo’s hands fell to his sides as he tried to form words, but nothing would come out.

“Were you embarrassed of me?! Is that why? Did you feel like all your rich, perfect friends would hate you for being with me or did you just want me for fun until you needed to find the pureblood future wife your father expects you to have!?” You breathed heavily as you registered your words, his eyes shone with tears at the mention of his father and only locked on yours for a second before turning to your door and tugging it open.

Mattheo stopped, weighing the odds before turning back to you with tears in his eyes, “I’d much rather marry you….but that can’t happen because he won’t allow it. I guess we did waste our time after all.” And in a matter of seconds he was gone, from the dorm, the school, from your life, no one actually knew were he went but there were rumors he left to join his father’s cause, which you just couldn’t allow yourself to think were true.

It had been weeks since you last saw his face or heard his voice, after months of seeing each other in every second of free time it hurt to wake to the reminder that you were alone. But today was different, when you dressed and returned to your bed after a morning shower a neat envelope awaited your arrival, you recognized his hand writing immediately and tore it open.

Y/n, I’m sorry. I can’t take back what I’ve done now, when you hear it you’re going to hate me and the thought breaks me. Please don’t blame yourself because I had to, I could never let him hurt you and despite everything I did to keep you safe he found out about you. He made me do things I can’t say here, things I see in my dreams on nights you stray from them but I promise one day you will be happy and safe. I will give up my life to make it so.

Tears blurred your vision as you tried to fathom what Mattheo had done, what his father could have forced him to do. What he had done to protect you. You crashed to your knees, sobbing and wishing you could somehow get a timeturner to go back to that night, beg him to stay, apologize for being so stupid. Of course he had kept you a secret for your own protection, the son of Voldemort couldn’t be walking around with a Muggleborn Hufflepuff who could barley pass by. He had kept his friends in the dark so they couldn’t tell anyone, he had snuck you around the school, not because he was ashamed, but because he wanted you safe. You had to get him back, no matter what he did in his father’s name he was yours and you were his, always.

By the next week everyone had heard the stories, Muggle and Muggleborns being tortured, “traitors” to the cause being executed, you didn’t know if he was involved, not for sure but a part of you knew. There were signs, people whispering about a new lord in training, a new way for Voldemort to gain power using his son as a weapon. It wasn’t long before most of Mattheo’s friends had gone too, making it all the more obvious where he had gone. It hurt you more to know he was doing it for you, every name of the missing and dead reminded you it was all to protect you. You began to lose hope that you’d ever see him again, that he was lost, forever his father’s minion.

You sat with your back against the cold stone wall of the astronomy tower, letting the smoke of an un-hit cigarette waft past you as you lost yourself in a deep thought. You had been having trouble sleeping, imaging the awful things being done to Mattheo and by Mattheo was bad enough but it only got worse at night. You’d found yourself gravitating to Mattheo’s spot often these days, and you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering what life would be like in a few months. You’d be gone from Hogwarts for good, and who knew what that meant for you now, you had just begun to imagine leaving into the world alone when the sound of rushed footsteps caught you off guard, but not more than the voice that came with the halt of shoes on marble, “What the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be in your dorm,” He spun around to watch the door, cursing to himself as though a plan had gone terribly wrong, and you supposed it had.

He looked tired, his hair disheveled with large bags under his eyes and his voice seemed different, harder, “You need to get the fuck up now and run, just go hide somewhere please if they see you they’ll” He was cut off by the sound of more boots quickly ascending the steps up the tower before he was grabbing you and aggressively trying to shove you into a closet too late.

“There’s the girl,” a gruff male voice shouted as the door swung open, “Knew if we followed you we’d find her.” Mattheo’s head hung as his voice broke, “no, no, I didn’t do it all for nothing.” He turned quickly, his arms out and blocking you body with his, “He can’t have her, I did everything he asked.”

“Clearly not since you’re here,” a second, larger man, cackled out, “Didn’t Daddy tell you to sit tight up in your mansion Pretty Boy.” The man laughed as though he was the funniest man alive as everyone stared back and forth, recognizing all four of us wouldn’t be leaving this room if things didn’t go as planned. “He can’t have her.” Mattheo spat again, with less conviction.

“Well you know the deal Handsome, and the Dark Lord is tired of waiting on your decision, you take the mark, we leave this pretty little thing alone and you never speak to her again….if not we have orders to make her death last awhile.” You flinched behind Mattheo’s muscular frame, not at your impending, excruciating death, but at the thought of Mattheo officially joining the ranks of the Death Eaters. If he had the mark there was no way out, no convincing the courts to spare him, even if he survived after all he had done that mark is a one way ticket to a Dementor’s Kiss. “No Mattheo you can’t”

Mattheo turned to you as your voice shook, tears falling down both your faces as he grabbed your cheeks tightly, kissing you as though you were air and he was hyperventilating. His head rested on your forehead as he thumbed your tears away, “I don’t have a choice Baby, I love you and I always will.” He tugged you into his arms, his lips next to your ear as he whispered low enough just for you to hear, “I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you, but I want you to live your life, when you get out of here run and forget me, become a Healer like you wanted and know I’m looking out for you.” He slipped away from you, leaving one final kiss on your temple before he was tugged from the room and from your life.

And you knew, from your safety, that he had taken the mark and would eventually take his father’s place as the Dark Lord if the war didn’t end soon. Maybe then, with all that power, he could end the war and return to you, a fantasy that gave you hope in the darkest days of the war.

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nobody7102 · 7 months

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Not What He's Made For

Spoilers for Season 6, Episode 11

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy and lost pregnancy

A/N: First fic in a while, it had to be for my baby Buck. This was inspired by Billie

Main Master-List

________

Standing at the window watching as everyone gathers in his room. Buck swallows hard, seeing himself laying in the hospital bed hooked up to the ventilator, his jaw clenches with anger, an anger that no matter how hard he tries, he can't wake himself up.

Its as if the universe is playing some sick joke on him. He already talked to Daniel and the alternate version of Bobby, what more does the universe want him to learn?

Banging against the glass window “I’M HERE!” He yells over and over as the crew of the 118 slowly file out of the room. Leaving just three.

Maddie, Bobby, and Y/N,

He watches as they sit and make small talk, sometimes discussing things that the doctors and nurses have told them about Buck’s current status. After about an hour a nurse stops in to have Maddie look over some paperwork as his closest next of kin, being that their parents are still hours away from arriving at the hospital. Leaving just Bobby and Y/N.

If there ever where someone who hid their troubles well, it was Y/N.

Always seeming fine and calm in tense or hard situations as her fears screamed inside of her.

When Y/N joined the LAFD most of her previous houses would say thats what made Y/N such a good firefighter, but if you asked Y/N she would always say it was her fear that runs her life.

And when Y/N joined the 118, Bobby was the only captain who could read through her facade.

After a call where Y/N had to crawl through a collapsed building a year after she joined the 118, Bobby found her having an anxiety attack in her hospital room after the 118 had visited her after she was found in the rubble. Other time Bobby had learned to tell when Y/N was too in her head about anything.

And when Buck and Y/N had started to turn their situationship into an actual relationship Bobby helped Y/N learn how to navigate her fears when it came to seeing a fellow first responder, and he taught Buck how to help Y/N navigate her anxieties.

And slowly over time, Buck and Y/N became each other’s persons. They had been though so much together, from being almost drowned by a tusnami, being shot at, crawling out of a sinkhole, to fighting wild fires down in Texas, and now this.

A lightning strike. Something so beautiful yet as much as Y/N would normally have admired their beauty, right now she loathed the beauty of plasma.

The one shift she took off and now Buck’s life hangs in the balance.

Placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, Y/N turns her head away from Bobby to quickly wipe away her tears. “Comon Y/N… what’s going though your head?” Bobby prys gently.

Letting out a sigh Y/N shakes her head, finally turning to face Bobby. “Did Buck tell you we had a fight-” she correcters herself “or rather that we’ve been fighting…”

Bobby shrugs slightly “He mention you two were bickering but he didn’t say over what” he takes a seat next to Y/N.

“...The fights… the bickering, whatever you wanna call it… its part of the reason why I asked for this shift off…”

Bobby nodded his head as he listened “I get it, come back with a clear approach to everything after giving each other some space… what have you been fighting about if you don’t mind me asking”

“...Buck….. Buck thinks I don’t wanna be with him anyone…. That I’m getting tired of him, and I kept trying to tell him… show him that it isn’t the case” Y/N glances over to Buck.

“Okay… then what’s the other reason you asked for this shift off?” Bobby raised his brow.

Blowing out a breath, Y/N shakes her head.

“If you let it sit, it’s gonna fester into something more. We both know that” Bobby sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, waiting for Y/N to talk.

She knows he’s right, if she avoids talking its just gonna sit in the back of her mind and eventually come back to bite her in the ass later.

“...If I tell you this… no one else can know, you have to swear to me Bobby. No one… not Athena or Maddie or Eddie or Buck, no one.” She turns to Bobby.

“Y/N, if its serius enough you know Buck-”

“Bobby.” Y/N pleads “He can’t know”

Bobby lets out a sigh, stuck between a rock and a hard place, he eventually nods his head “It stays between us, I promise”

Slowly nodding her head, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks back at Buck one last time before she turns back to Bobby.

“... Buck and I have been fighting because he thinks I’m pulling away from him… this has been going on for the past week and a half” Y/N glances down to the floor as she continues “and I mean maybe I was a little bit like three days ago but it’s not for the reason’s Buck thinks”

Starting to pick at the loose threads of her hoodie, Y/N shakes her head and blows out a breath before glancing to the doorway of Buck’s hospital room, making sure no one other than Bobby is around to hear her before she speaks.

“... a little over two weeks ago… I found out I was pregnant” Y/N sees the shock on Bobby’s face and cuts him off before he has the chance to speak “I was gonna tell you, I swear… but anytime we were on shift it was slow, we didnt end up doing anything super dangerous… and I wanted to tell Buck before I told anyone else”

Bobby’s gaze softens as he sees Y/N close her eyes and lean back in the chair as she takes a breath before continues. “If…. If I was pulling away, it’s because I was trying to figure out how to tell Buck” He sees how Y/N keeps her eyes to the floor as she talks, a tear starts to roll down her cheek before she brings her hand up to wipe it away. “Becuase its Buck. We all know he’d make a great dad, and a great dad deserves to be told in a great way… because Buck is worth taking extra steps to plan for so I ordered this little onesie and all these balloons and a cake to surprise him… and I know he would have loved it” Bobby can hear the passion in her voice before Y/N goes quiet for a moment to compose herself before she clears her thought.

“But then… four days ago I went to the ER because I was having some cramps and light spotting… I asked my doctor about and she said it was normal” Y/N shakes her head “But I could tell… something wasn’t-” Y/N stops herself, taking a moment before she swallows hard. “And… that’s when I learned that I lost the pregnancy…” She shrugs as she tries to maintain was little composer she has left.

“They don’t know what happened… in the ER they told me that things like this just happen sometimes…” Y/N’s voice tightnes she brings her hand up to cover her face for a moment as she tries to take a few deep breaths.

“So… for the last few days… yeah I was pulling away because I had all this stuff planned and I had to figure out what to do with it now because-” her voice breaks “It was all for nothing” her shoulders shake as Bobby wraps his arms around Y/N, letting her cry on his shoulder as he glances between her and Buck with pity and sadness in his eyes.

“Y/N” He starts once she’s a bit more calmed down “This isn’t something you can hide from Buck”

Y/N just continues to shake her head “I can’t Bobby, I’ve tried-”

“Y/N”

“No I mean it” Y/N cuts him off her voice wavers a little bit “I have tried to tell him at every opportunity but i can’t… everytime i try i choke everytime.”

Pulling away from Bobby, Y/N sniffles and wipes her eyes before she glances to Buck “...I think it’d just make it worse, make it hurt more if I told him…” Y/N mumbles “he’s not made for sadness Bobby… Buck thrives on the happiness and joy… love and happiness and passion run his life… something like this?” she just stares at Buck laying in the hospital bed and the tears start to roll down her cheeks once more “it’s not was he’s made for…”

Staring at Y/N and Bobby, Buck bangs his fist against the glass one last time before he stops banging, his hand growing sore as he rests his head against the glass, his tears matching Y/N’s as all he can do it watch…

Hoping that this isn’t his forever.

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Tagging: @beachbabey @t-nd-rfoot

#evan buckley #evan buck buckely #buck buckley #911 #911 fox #oliver stark #911 x reader #buck #buck x reader #evan buckley x reader #buck buckley x reader #evan buck buckley x reader #oliver stark x reader #x reader

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therapycat21 · 6 months

Text

Oh Baby

Requested: Yes/No

Request:

Hi, can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumors going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Me and Travis have been together for a five years now and have been in a private relationship due to the past of both of our relationships. Since we decided to be private it has been nothing but amazing .We had met from mutual friends of my younger sister Taylor.

One of her backup dancers had known Travis from meeting him at the Super Bowl where he danced for Rihanna.

Travis and I officially met at the Superbowl party after they won and we’ve been together. Since then we had gotten a house together, married, and had a few fur babies but now as we stare at the screen in the dim room and the nurse moving the doppler around, we finally see our baby, we’ve been coming here for six months now and looking at our baby never gets old. We still have our gender reveal to do in the next few weeks but for now, we have to wait.

After wiping the gel off my stomach, I see Travis’s phone lighting up on the counter “Hey babe? Your phone’s going off” I tell him, the tight grasp he has on my hand is gone as he opens the phone screen, I continue to wipe the gel off and get myself together so we can leave when Travis lets a giant frustrated sigh resonate throughout the room. I look at him to see frustration masking his face “Baby what’s wrong?” I ask. He looks up from his screen before turning the phone towards me, I take the phone and start reading the news article. There have been many news articles about Travis potentially dating someone new every week at this point I'm used to it.

I look back up at him seeing the serious look on his face. “What do you wanna do about it?” I ask him, not knowing how to go about this, he rubs his forehead “I wanna be done hiding you and the baby. I know It’s a lot to ask of you but I just want the world to know I’m with you and I’m happy” he tells me.

I give him a once over before nodding “How about this, we don’t say anything yet, but we go out together and just do what we usually do at home, outside, and once it starts being noticed, then we’ll find a way to confirm it, is that okay?” I ask him, making up a plan so it’s easier. He smiles nodding his head at the plan “Alright, let’s do that” he gives me a chaste kiss before we leave the private room and start to head home, since this is a private doctor's office, no one knows we’re here, we get in the car and start driving home “how about tonight? We can start by going to Taylor's concert” I suggest as we pull up to the house. I look over and see him nod his head in response “Yeah let's do that, Let's get in cause we don’t have that much time before the concert.” He tells me.

We both got ready, and we both decided to wear white. We arrive at the stadium and are escorted to where Taylor is in the back, As I see her she quickly walks over to me, pulling me into a hug being cautious of my stomach, she lets go before softly rubbing my belly “Oh my god, I feel like you were 2 months like last week and now you're almost done” she tells me before pulling me into another hug before turning to acknowledge Travis “oh my god, how are you? How’s everything?” she asks him. He hugged her back briefly before talking a bit about what was going on.

We were interrupted as one of the managers came over to tell us it was time to head to our seats and for Taylor to get in position for the concert. We all hug one last time before Travis and I head to our family balcony seats.

3 Hours Later

After a few hours of enjoying Taylor’s set, I noticed some fans pointing their phones to wear Travis and I were sitting, I nudged him a bit to let him know, and I saw him look down, acknowledging them and giving some a few waves as they capture pictures of him, if only we knew what everyone would be thinking by noon tomorrow.

After hanging with Taylor for a bit at her after party we decided to head home so I could rest after being on my feet for a long time. Me and Travis are freshly showered and lounging on the couch watching Marvel before we head to bed for the night.

The Next Morning

The pressure on my bladder is what wakes me up from my comfortable sleep, I try to roll out of bed not even bothering to check my phone, and head to the bathroom to get ready for the morning, I can still hear Travis snoring as I hear my phone chime with a notification, I walk over to my nightstand grabbing my phone, opening it to see a crap ton of messages from Taylor and a few of mine and Travis friends. Opening the first message I see from Taylor

“Did you see this? I don’t wanna say anything unless you want me to cause I don’t want to add any more stress on you, no one knows me and Henry are together yet but I still need to talk to him about that, I love you please let me know, ”

I clicked on the link she sent, seeing it's an article from ENews.

I kind of expected this to happen considering I don’t really like to be in the spotlight, even as Taylor’s older sister I never really strived for that, Now don’t get me wrong, almost all of Taylor’s fans know of me from over the years.

I went to Travis's side of the bed and gently shook him awake “What? What's going on?” He asks groggily, I turn the phone screen and watch him as he reads the article title, he shakes his head before turning to sit up “What the hell?” is all he responds with while reading the article. He hands the phone back to me before picking up and checking his phone. I continue going through the messages from friends when I get sent another article, It is dated back to when when me, Taylor and our mom went to one of Travis’s games last week, and of course it is titled almost the same, with the public thinking they’re dating. Broken out of my thoughts, Travis slams his phone down on the nightstand, I put my phone down while walking over to him, I cradle his head into my chest, rubbing his head “I wanna be done with this” Is all he says to me.

I continue rubbing his head before he kisses me, getting up to use the bathroom. While he is in the bathroom, I contemplate, I already know what he wants to do but I know he isn't doing it because of my hesitation with it becoming more public. I decide I’m done being scared and hiding myself.

I pick up my phone before opening Instagram and uploading a picture we had taken recently at our maternity shoot and without a second thought I posted it. I quickly shut my phone, a little nervous to even look at it. I waddle into the bathroom where Travis is standing at the sink brushing his teeth. He looks at me in question, seeing the nervous look on my face. He quickly finishes his teeth “Are you alright?” he asks I open my phone screen and quickly turn it towards him. As he checks the post, I am filled with nerves but they quickly diminish as a giant smile breaks out on his face.

Putting the phone down he pulls me into a tight hug as best as he can, he lets go running out of the room, I peek out, waddling over to see him opening his phone and making his own post.

After he posted the picture, he pulled me towards him with his head leveled with mine as he was sitting on the bed, He pulled me into a soft kiss “Thank you, I know how hard it was to do that” he tells me smiling softly. I chuckle rubbing the side of his beard “It was nerve-wracking no doubt but other than that, it wasn’t that hard” I reassure him. We’re both broken out of our silent bubble, simultaneously getting a notification chime, we both open our phone screens to see we were tagged in a Twitter post by Taylor Letting everyone know that she is indeed dating someone named Henry and how Travis is only and will only ever be her brother-in-law.

Travis still holding me by my waist pulls my face to him, kissing me softly, nudging his nose against mine, and softly rubbing the bump "I love you so much" he tells me softly, I smile "I love you too baby" I tell him pulling him in for another kiss.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

For some reason, I feel like this sucks but It's whatever, I may rewrite it but for now, here it is,,,enjoy!!

Much Love

TC21

#travis kelce #travis x reader #travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine

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katareyoudrilling · 3 months

Text

The Sweepstakes: Frankie Morales (Porn Star AU)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Porn Star Female Reader

Summary: A popular porn site runs a sweepstakes to win a night with your favorite porn star. One of the winners is a man and he has chosen you. Will it be a night of mediocre sex or will Frankie surprise you?

Word count: ~3.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Unprotected PIV (paperwork is involved), oral (m and f receiving), a hint of tummy worship, reader’s clothing is described briefly but no physical description

A/N: I got in the weeds a bit thinking how something like this could be made safe for everyone involved and decided we all just need to suspend our disbelief. I left some in for the sake of “the plot” but let’s trust that everyone has good intentions. The company mentioned is heavily inspired by Bellesa. This was a lot of fun to write and I hope you enjoy a reverse sweepstakes!

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist - link in bio or let me know!

“Thanks for coming in.” Erin shuts the door behind you as you take a seat across from her desk.

“Of course.” You have a scene to film after this meeting. It was no problem to come in a little early.

“So, as you know, we are running this sweepstakes for our subscribers to win a night with their favorite performer. You agreed to be one of the female options and even though the vast majority of our subscribers are women, one of our winners is a man and he chose you.”

“Oh wow.” You can’t help but be a little flattered. Everyone likes to be chosen.

“Yeah, so I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you’re ok to continue. I have his picture and basic info here.” She slides some paperwork across the desk, and you pick it up.

Looking back at you are the kindest brown eyes you think you’ve ever seen. He is wearing a baseball cap – hair curling around his ears – a scruffy beard, and a lopsided smile. His name is Francisco Morales.

“We’ve done a background check and everything like we talked about, and he looks good from our end. You still have the right to refuse, though,” Erin continues as you read over Francisco’s information.

“He’s cute. I’m not concerned. I can handle a night of mediocre sex with a civilian and make this guy’s dream come true.” It feels a little conceited to say it, but as an adult entertainer, you know you’re the subject of a lot of male fantasies. You also know that you are very good at what you do.

Erin laughs. “That’s very generous of you. Hopefully it won’t be too bad, but best to set expectations low.” She takes the papers back from you. “I know you have a scene to film upstairs. I’ll let you know when we get this scheduled.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Erin!” You push back from the desk and leave the office with a wave.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When the day arrives, you prepare like you would for any scene. You’re not more nervous than any other day when you’d be having sex with a new scene partner. You dress in your signature outfit of a crop-top and cut-off jean shorts, showing off your legs is never a bad idea.

When you arrive at the studio, you check in with Erin to go over Francisco’s final paperwork and reaffirm that all the company’s requirements around consent and safety have been met.

When everything is settled, you go to meet him in the filming room.

You open the door to a man pacing back and forth, worrying a baseball cap in his hands. Erin had warned you that he seemed nervous and not to expect him to be sitting eagerly on the bed waiting for you like your usual partners.

He looks up at you when he hears the door, panic written all over his features.

“Hi, Francisco, it’s nice to meet you.” You approach him cautiously, opening your arms for a hug.

He accepts the hug and you’re pleasantly surprised at the warm comfort of his broad shoulders and t-shirt-clad chest before pulling away.

“Call me Frankie,” he replies, running his fingers through his wavy hair.

“Frankie it is. How are you?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, I just… I feel like such a creep.” He hangs his head and twists the hat in his hands. “The cameras…” he gestures to the tripods set up in the corners of the room. “They said they are partly to keep you safe… I… I shouldn’t be here.”

He was right about the cameras. Sweepstakes winners had the option of recording their encounter for private use, but in your case, the feed would also be monitored for your safety.

“I heard you chose to go for the recording option. I’m glad you did. I would have tried to change your mind before we started otherwise.” He glances up at you, surprised. “I like performing for cameras.” You shrug and one corner of his mouth twitches. You take it as a good sign.

“Look Frankie, I’m not going to make you stay, but I’d really like if we could talk for a minute.”

You sit on the bed and pat the spot next to you. Frankie relents and sits next to you, keeping a safe distance between your bodies. It’s endearing really, and warmth stirs in your chest.

“We’re both adults here, Frankie. I signed up for this too, you know. No one is forcing me to be here.”

Frankie lets out a long exhale and finally meets your gaze. “Thank you for saying that. It’s just a really strange situation and I got in my head about it.”

“Perfectly understandable. Why don’t you tell me why you entered the sweepstakes?”

He runs his hand through his hair again, it must be a nervous habit of his. It’s delightfully disheveled and you notice shades of caramel and gray woven through the dark brown waves. You allow your gaze to roam over his features. Aquiline nose. Pouty lips. He is a very handsome man. His picture didn’t do him justice.

“I’m not sure what I was thinking at the time, to be honest with you. I’m just a big fan.” He offers you that lopsided smile you first saw in his photo.

“You know, most of our subscribers are women, it’s kind of our thing. What lead you to us? And as a subscriber as well?”

“Good question,” he exhales again. “I really like the idea of supporting an ethical production company where I can know everyone involved is consenting. I don’t want to ever think someone has been coerced or treated badly while I’m… you know.” His ears turn pink, and it might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.

“That’s important to me too,” you nod and scoot a little bit closer to him on the bed.

“I also like that the orgasms are real. I’m not interested in anyone... faking.” If his ears weren’t red before, they certainly are now. Along with his nose and cheeks.

It occurs to you that one of the other female performer options practically comes if you look at her. If Frankie had just wanted an ego boost tonight, he could have easily chosen her. It’s not that it’s difficult for you, but it is going to take some effort. It stirs your interest that he might be up to the challenge.

“Do you like making women come, Frankie?”

He nods and smiles a little, still looking down at the hat in his hands.

“Do you think you can make me come tonight?” You look up at him through your eyelashes.

“I’d certainly like to fucking try,” he looks directly into your eyes and the deep rumble of his voice turns the affectionate warmth in your chest into a building fire in your core. You move even closer so that your leg is touching his.

Frankie stares at the bare skin of your knee where it brushes against his jeans.

“Can I touch you, Frankie?”

He looks up at you and nods. So much want burning in his kind eyes.

You run your fingers through the hair at his temple and scratch your nails through his scruff. He leans into your hand and moans.

Oh fuck.

The sound shoots straight to your pussy.

“Can I touch you?” Frankie rasps.

“Yes, you can. But you need to lose the hat.”

He chuckles, dropping the misshapen hat on the floor before tentatively lifting his hand to place it on your leg. His hands are large, warm, and calloused. Sparks fly over your skin as he strokes your softness. You lean in slowly and press your lips to his cheek, then his mouth.

His plush lips part with a sigh. You turn his face towards you as you gently explore.

It’s been a while since you’ve just made out with someone. He seems to need you to go slowly and you certainly don’t want to spook him now that he is more relaxed. In your brief conversation you’ve become very curious about this man.

Frankie tentatively glides his hand over your clothed hip, barely letting his fingers caress the skin above the waistband of your shorts.

You guide him gently up onto the bed and stretch out along his long frame. He’s so warm and soft, you just want to snuggle into his chest.

It’s luxurious and unhurried and oh so hot.

You let out a contented sigh as you slide your hand under his shirt and up his back. His grip tightens on your hip, so you roll your hips towards him in response – encouraging him to touch you.

He receives the message, shifting his hand to palm your ass. You moan into his mouth and are rewarded with a strangled groan as his grip tightens. His rough fingertips skim the sensitive skin of your upper thigh sending shivers up your spine.

“You feel so good, Frankie,” you break away from his mouth as he trails kisses down your neck. “I want to feel more of you.”

You tug at his shirt and he reluctantly stops kissing you to pull it over his head. You are rewarded with a vision of golden skin over strong muscles. He’s slightly soft around the middle and it makes you want to see your teeth marks on his skin.

You sit up and quickly pull your crop top over your head and are reaching for the clasp of your bra, when he sits up and stills your hands.

“Let me, baby.”

“Whatever you want, Frankie.”

You place your hands on his chest as he traces his fingers over the cups and straps of your bra, watching goosebumps rise over your skin. It’s so sensuous and deliberate, you’re struggling not to whimper and you don’t even have your clothes off yet. When he reaches around to undo the clasp, you crowd into his chest and begin to lick and suck at his neck.

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as you taste his skin. Delicious. You allow your bra to slide down your arms and off then reach for the button of his jeans. “Take these off.”

“In a minute,” Frankie replies and you scoff. This isn’t the nervous man you first met. You smile to yourself. He must be getting comfortable.

Turns out he needs a minute because he wants to explore your tits. He brushes his fingertips over your nipples, watching them tighten in response. He gathers you onto his lap, better to pull each bud into his mouth.

He swirls his tongue around you, one breast at a time, palming the other with his large hands. It’s exquisitely, maddeningly slow. Your pussy aches as you try to find some friction through your shorts, but he’s holding you away from himself.

Frankie smiles around your tit as you whine and try to grind into him.

“You like this, huh?” you complain, clutching at his broad shoulders.

“Do I like making you sound like that? Yes, I do.” His voice rumbles pleasantly against your chest.

He finally relents, working his way up your neck and back to your mouth. You take control of the kiss, plunging your tongue into his mouth and nipping at his bottom lip. He lays back for you on the bed, settling with his head up against the headboard. You take the opportunity to undo the fly of his jeans.

“Can I have these now?” you tease.

“Only if I can have yours.” His gorgeous mouth pulls up into his signature lopsided grin.

“Deal.” You shimmy out of your shorts and underwear as he pulls down his jeans and boxers and tosses them on the floor.

You sit back on your heels and take in the gloriously naked man in front of you. His long legs stretch out on either side of your hips.

He’s not the polished, waxed, perfectly honed specimen of a man you often work with. You find that it’s perfectly ok with you, might even be preferable. He’s so real, splayed out and unselfconscious.

Broad, warm, soft at the edges, but hard where it matters.

And the way he’s looking at you… It gives you shivers. There’s a deep hunger in those brown eyes, but also patience and a surprising amount of control. You had expected this to be a pretty quick encounter, but that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore. You squirm, noticing the wetness building in your center.

He watches you with hooded eyes as you slide your hands up his muscular thighs. His cock bobs eagerly against his stomach. He has a very nice cock. Possibly the best you’ve seen on a civilian, being a porn star does spoil you a bit in that regard.

His is nice and thick and plenty big enough to know he will feel really good.

You take him in your hand and stroke him up and down, licking your lips.

“You don’t ha…” he interrupts and you silence him with a look.

“I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do, Frankie. Trust me.”

He nods and exhales, relaxing again against the headboard. His chest is delightfully flushed as he takes stuttering breaths with each stroke of your hand.

“You’re so pretty,” you praise him and watch as the flush creeps up his neck and blooms across his cheeks.

So fucking pretty.

Then you take him in your mouth.

His hips buck underneath you and he curses as he tries to still himself.

You pull out all the stops, giving him the slipperiest, deepest blow job you can.

You enjoy watching men come apart for you. It’s a shame so many of your scene partners are so used to it now, they don’t react the way Frankie does.

He fists his hands in the sheets. His mouth drops open. His chest rises and falls with ragged pants. The tendons in his neck strain as he tries to keep himself under control.

His cock is thick and heavy on your tongue. Just how you like it.

You take your time taking him apart.

He’s just so pretty.

At the first sign that his control is slipping, you slow down. Easing yourself off him and surveying the wrecked man in front of you with satisfaction.

You kiss your way up his tummy, nipping his soft flesh as you go. Your teeth marks look just as good as you hoped – little pink crescents on his golden skin. You continue up his chest and recapture his mouth for a hungry kiss.

You straddle his hips and line yourself up to sink down, when he grabs you and flips you over.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” He pants into your mouth before kissing down your body, stroking your skin with his calloused fingers. He continues working his way down to your pussy making his intent clear. What a pleasant surprise.

You love oral sex and even sub-par oral, is still oral, right? You prop yourself up on your elbows and open your knees wide so you can watch as Frankie takes a long lick from your entrance to your clit.

You sigh in contentment. His mouth is warm, wet, and firm. So what if you don’t come, it still feels good.

You relax and let your head drop back as Frankie explores. He circles… sucks… nudges.

Ohhhh

Tightness coils in your belly and you look down at him with a gasp.

He’s good at this.

He’s looking up at you. Brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he slowly drags his tongue through your folds. Then he winks.

He knows he’s good at this.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your throat, but are quickly pulled back under by the pleasure emanating from between your legs.

“Yes, Frankie. That feels so good,” you moan succumbing to the building pressure. You clench around nothing and are rewarded with a thick finger in your cunt.

“Fuuuuck,” you whine as he strokes in time with his tongue.

“You taste so good, sweetheart. You gonna come for me?” he rasps between licks. His scruff tickling your sensitive skin.

Who is this pussy-eating king who is better than some of the professionals you’ve worked with?

It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the coil winding tighter in your belly. The fluttering of your pussy. The stars sparking at the edge of your vision.

And suddenly you’re coming. Pulsing against his tongue as he works you through it. Groaning his own pleasure into your center.

As the waves subside, Frankie reclaims your mouth, dragging his cock through your slick folds, blocking out your vision with his broad shoulders. You pull him down to you, running your fingers through his hair and down along his muscular back.

“How do you want me, baby?” you ask him between nips at his bottom lip. You tilt your hips up to him and savor the rough grind of his cock between your legs.

“I want you every way, sweetheart.” He nuzzles into your neck and your heart does a little pitter patter. Just post-orgasm glow, you tell yourself.

“I want this to be a night to remember for you, Frankie. How about the porn star special?”

He pulls back from nuzzling your neck, amusement lifting one side of his face into that charming grin. “What’s the porn star special?”

You give him a mischievous grin, “Just follow my lead.”

Over the course of the evening, you lead Frankie through your repertoire. The kinds of hyper flexible positions he’ll only ever see in porn. You giggle your way through some of the more ridiculous ones when Frankie furrows his brow and questions what exactly anyone is supposed to be getting out of this.

You slow down when Frankie grabs your hips and hisses that he’s too close. You kiss across his chest and shoulders and from his neck to his soft tummy as he regains his composure. You take breaks for water and lube, teasing and laughing while you catch your breath.

You come more than once along the way. Frankie finds your clit and gives you the extra friction you need to tip over the edge. He stays with you, locked eyes and panted breath, through each one. You don’t think too hard about why each time you come, it’s while staring into those soulful eyes.

In the end, you find yourself on his lap, grinding your hips into him as he sits with his back against the headboard and his face between your tits. He feels so good in your pussy, filling you up just right.

It’s syrupy and slow, both of you worn out and rocking into each other. Frankie’s panted moans hot against your chest.

“Can I finish in you?” he pleads, sweaty curls plastered across his forehead.

“You don’t want to see your cum all over me?”

“No, no, I need to feel you around me when I come, sweetheart, please,” he begs. “I need your perfect pussy.” As if you would deny him that.

You brush his hair away from his face and press a soft kiss to his lips. “Of course, Frankie. Fill me up.”

Frankie practically growls as he tips you backwards on to the bed. He positions himself above you, grasping your leg as he drives into you in long, firm strokes.

He pours every last ounce of his energy into you, finally allowing himself to chase the climax you’ve been edging him towards all evening. He presses his forehead to yours while he slams into you at a relentless pace. So close. So deep. Your climax hovers on the horizon once again.

“Come with me Frankie,” you whimper. He groans and stutters in response. You watch his face contort into pure bliss and it tips you over the edge with him.

Such a beautiful sight.

Maybe you need a copy of this video too.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Frankie waits on the sidewalk for his Uber, resting his back against the non-descript building and letting the memories of the evening replay in his mind.

After the scene, you had both cleaned up. The bed was a mess, but you had assured him that it was ok, it came with the business.

You were more wonderful than he ever could have imagined. So beautiful, sexy, and fun. You had been so kind and complimentary after. He didn’t know how to end the evening… to say goodbye. He stammered his thanks when you gave him a hug and a final kiss as you showed him where he could take a shower before he left for the night.

When he’d come out, you were already gone.

Just a memory now.

One he would revisit often.

Thank fuck he agreed to the video.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. The Uber is probably close by. He pulls it out absently, brain still hazy and sex-addled.

There’s a message from an unknown number:

I hope you don’t mind, I convinced Erin to give me your number. I had a great time tonight. Call me sometime ;-)

A slow smile spreads over his face. Maybe not just a memory after all.

- - - - - - - - -

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

#the sweepstakes #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal

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horangare · 7 months

Text

my babysitter’s a vampire

pairing : vampire!hoshi x human!reader

content : smut (mdni), strangers to ???

in which : your parents hired a babysitter after deeming you as the “irresponsible” older sibling. when someone who isn’t junhui shows up in his place, you’re instantly captivated by this handsome stranger and his shiny white teeth.

warnings : grinding, fingering, finger sucking, big dick soonyoung, blood, mentions of a knife and minimal bodily harm (you cut your finger), unprotected sex (but mentions of birth control, be safe either way), cocky soonyoung (ugh i want him so bad), you threaten him with a fork, bff!chaeryeong, dirty talk, pet names, bulge kink (i think that’s everything but pls let me know if i forgot anything)

wc : 4.8K words

note : look y’all i am the youngest of four sisters so idk if my portrayal of a younger brother is a good one but…this is for u hoshi nation horanghae.

“What do you mean?! I don’t need a babysitter!”

Your mom sighed deeply, searching her jewelry box for her matching earring. “I’m sorry honey, but you do. Your sister clearly isn’t responsible enough.” You rolled your eyes, but remained quiet. “And I know Junhui’s mom. She says he’s a very nice boy who’s good with children.”

Ever since you and Chaeryeong shut yourselves in your room to rewatch Girl From Nowhere for the millionth time again and speculate if there would really be a third season, (Chaeryeong insisted there would be, while you thought the opposite) the fact that you were supposed to be babysitting your younger brother had completely slipped your mind. When your parents returned from their date, they pulled into the driveway only to find Leo out there screaming his head off.

After that, you were quickly deemed “irresponsible” by your parents and no longer allowed to be Leo’s babysitter. What did they want you to do? You couldn’t spend all summer break looking after the little brat. Anyway, it’s not like that was the part that bothered you, but the fact that you couldn’t talk or beg her out of it either.

“Mom, come on! I’m eight and a half now! I can pretty much babysit myself!” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, standing in the doorway so your mother couldn’t leave the room without giving him, in all his childhood glory, the explanation he felt he so richly deserved.

“It’s too late. Junhui is already on his way and we’ve already paid him.” She leaned down, kissing him on the forehead. “Promise me you’ll be good.”

Your brother glanced to the side, like he was actually considering not being on his best behavior, before nodding and smiling at your mom. “I promise.” What a little shit.

“That’s my boy. And the same goes for you, [Y/n]. Chaeryeong over but she cannot stay the night. Am I clear?”

You smiled, not even bothering to make it seem real or genuine. “Crystal clear, mom. Have fun with dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. We should be back at around eleven.” Your mom mumbled, making her way down the stairs and to the front door where your dad was waiting. You followed behind her, mostly so you could slam the door in a pitiful act of retaliation and lock it shut until your friend arrived, but also because you wanted to see what this Junhui kid looked like up close.

You’d seen him maybe once or twice before around campus or at the cute little coffee shop you frequented, but you had never gotten a close hard look at his face before. Some of your friends knew him, according to them he was kind of weird, but made up for it with his sense of humor. Maybe he could keep you some decent company before Chaeryeong showed up.

The boy on the other side of the door was not Junhui. At least, you didn’t think so. This boy was a little shorter, a little blonder, and a lot finer than you’ve ever seen Junhui look.

“Oh! Hello, are you…Junhui?” Your mom asked, raking her eyes over the boy standing before her.

“Hi. No, sorry, Jun couldn’t make it. I’m Soonyoung, I’m a friend of his. Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure. Leo? Your babysitter’s here!”

“He’s so hot. And he’s totally your type, don’t you think?”

“Chaeryeong, please!” You slapped your hand over her mouth, earning a dirty look from the girl standing beside you. She was right, this Soonyoung guy was super good looking, but she didn’t have to say it out loud. He was still a stranger after all. A hot one, but a stranger nonetheless, and it was only normal for you to have your reservations. “He’s not even the guy who’s supposed to be here. Junhui was supposed to be Leo’s babysitter. He says he’s his friend.”

Chaeryeong rolls her eyes, not understanding what your problem was. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I were you. Look, even Leo likes him.”

You and Chaeryeong watched from the kitchen island as Soonyoung helped Leo with his homework in the living room, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen your brother smile while doing homework. Neither of you could hear what they were saying, for some reason you doubted it was about fractions—fractions were not funny.

The longer you observed them—mostly Soonyoung—the more you realized how right your friend was. He was fine. Really fine. It’s like there was some kind of aura around him, something almost otherworldly.

That’s when you started to stare. Like the hard, not even blinking type of stare. Soonyoung turned his head over his shoulder, the two of you making eye contact in what felt like the most awkward way ever. He smiled at you though, which made your cheeks feel embarrassingly warm, before giving his attention back to your brother. Chaeryeong, having watched the entire exchange, grinned while looking you up and down.

“You’re staring.” She mumbled.

Feeling like a stubborn child about to throw a tantrum, you narrowed your eyes and pouted. “Was not.”

Your friend was no doubt satisfied with herself, cooing at you and cupping your face with her hands to squish your cheeks together. “Denial is not a good look for you. Come on,” she released your face to pat you on the shoulder. “let’s go watch a movie before I leave.”

Looking back at the living room, you saw your brother sitting on the couch alone with no signs of Soonyoung. Some babysitter, you thought, leaving the kid he’s supposed to be looking after alone. How could your parents leave someone so irresponsible in charge of your brother?

Oh, wait…

“Just wait for me in my room. I’ve gotta use the bathroom.” She nodded, heading upstairs to your room while you made your way to the bathroom in the hall and swinging open the door.

“What the fuck?” Soonyoung shouted, tearing his eyes away from the mirror above the bathroom sink to look at you. Gasping, you took a step back from him.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—” You started to apologize, glancing behind him into the mirror and you froze. The spot where his reflection should be was empty. You took another step back.

“You didn’t know…what?”

If you weren’t so scared right now, you would’ve definitely been offended by the way he was speaking to you like you owed him an explanation for wanting to use the bathroom in your house. You looked at him, then the mirror once more, trying to make it as subtle as possible.

“Uh…nothing! So sorry again.” You said, laughing awkwardly to diffuse the tension and backing away from him far enough until you were close enough to retreat up the stairs and to your room. Chearyeong, seated comfortably in your bed, snapped her head away from her phone to see you clutching your chest and panting.

“Woah, what happened?” She asked as she sat upright. “Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?” With one of your hands, you gestured that you needed more time to catch your breath before taking a deep breath and stepping closer to the bed.

“He doesn’t have a reflection.”

Chaeryeong raised one of her eyebrows. “The babysitter? Are you sure?”

“Yes, of course I’m sure! He was in front of the bathroom mirror but the mirror was, like, empty!”

You could tell she wasn’t really sure whether you were telling the truth or not, making you groan and cover your face with your hands. “I’m really fucking serious! There’s something wrong with him, Chaeryeong!”

A heavy sigh sounded from Chaeryeong’s place on your bed. “I don’t know…what kind of person doesn’t have a reflection?”

“All humans have reflections,” you shrugged, your head tilted as your mind considered each and every possibility. “maybe he isn’t human.”

Chaeryeong snorted and rolled her eyes. “What is he then? A vampire?” The comment was definitely meant to be a joke given the way she’d said it, but the way your eyes widened and jaw drop was all too serious. “Oh my god, is he really a vampire?”

You looked around your room frantically, feeling the smallest bit of relief when you saw your laptop resting on your beside table. Chaeryeong made room for you in the bed, watching as your fingers flew over the keys.

How to identify a vampire.

“Asks to be invited into your home…no reflection…powerful presence or aura,” you skimmed over the first three bullet points shown before you and felt your mouth go dry. Soonyoung, so far, was definitely fitting the description of a vampire.

“Look,” Chaeryeong pointed to the next bullet point and read it aloud. “When a person is injured, make sure to find out if their focus is more on the injured person or the injury itself.” You looked at her, unsure of what his point was. Nobody in the house had been injured?

“Yeah, so?”

“So we’ve gotta injure you.” She scoffed, a little confused as to how you weren’t following her crazy thought process.

You leaned away from her. “What? Why does it have to be me?”

“You’re the one that wants to prove it so bad, aren’t you?” It was hard to argue with that one, you were the one who brought it up in the first place. You grumbled and slammed your laptop shut.

“Fine! But if we do all this and he ends up being just some guy I’m expecting a very long apology from you.”

Chaeryeong just smiled brightly at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Soonyoung had brought Leo up to bed much earlier than he thought he would; your brother mumbled something about using all his brainpower on the fractions, and Soonyoung had laughed and tucked him into the covers. When he returned downstairs, he noticed the kitchen lights were on. Once he reached the bottom, he could see Chaeryeong holding your quivering body in the kitchen, a knife and an apple discarded on the kitchen island.

“What happened?” He asked, the faintest hint of worry in his voice.

The truth of what happened is quite simple; you and Chaeryeong snuck down here while Soonyoung was putting Leo to bed, she gave you a small (but still painful) cut on your index finger, and now you were standing here trying to sell it.

“[Y/n] was gonna split this apple with me, but I totally forgot how awful she is with knives. I think she cut her finger open, does it look bad?” Chaeryeong grabbed your wrist, holding your now opened hand closer to Soonyoung’s face. The blood had pooled where the cut was and started to streak down your finger. He sucked in a breath, struggling to look away from it.

“Y-Yeah, it looks pretty bad.” Soonyoung gulped, watching the red liquid falling down past your knuckles. He licked his lips, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you pulled your finger away. Then and only then did Soonyoung look at you in the eyes again.

“Everything okay? You seemed kind of distracted.” You tilted your head to the side. “You seemed really focused on the blood, don’t you think?”

Soonyoung scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh please, I was not.” You and Chaeryeong exchanged a look, and you held up your bleeding finger in front of his face again. Soonyoung’s focus shifted once more, his eyes zeroing in on the streak of blood that was beginning to go dry. You turned away to rinse it under the sink and shook off the water once it was all washed away.

“Yeah, okay.” Chaeryeong said, reaching into her pocket and handing you a band-aid. “So you’re a vampire, right?”

To say the least, Soonyoung seemed shocked and offended that you had caught him so easily, as if he hadn’t been the most obvious vampire ever. “What? A vampire? Please, how could you ever think that?” It was almost pathetic how he was actually trying to convince you otherwise when the evidence was already there, maybe he actually thought he could wiggle his way out of this.

“Look, we already know. Just drop it.” You sighed, and Soonyoung did the same.

“Aw, mannnnnnn.” He whined. “What gave it away?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Chaeryeong asked him, her voice riddled with sarcasm. Soonyoung looked down and mumbled the word “no,” and Chaeryeong nodded pointedly. “Thought so.”

So you were right. Soonyoung was a vampire. He was also your little brother’s babysitter. It’s funny, you could’ve sworn you’ve seen a show like this before a really long time ago, one whose name wasn’t coming to mind right now. Whatever, back to the main point. Soonyoung was a vampire.

“Why are you here?” You questioned him, holding up a fork to his neck. “Are you gonna kill us?”

“Woah, um, first of all,” He closed his hands around yours and lowered it, and you noticed how cold he felt. Probably another vampire thing. You snatched your hand away, and he seemed confused, but shook his head and continued on. “That silver thing? It’s just a myth. Second of all, why would I wanna kill you? It’s not like your parents wouldn’t notice. Not to mention we don’t go feeding on people randomly, consent is a thing, you know.” You could’ve laughed at that. A creature that survived off of draining the blood of others caring about their right to say no seemed ironic.

“And anyway, did you seriously expect to kill me with a fork?”

Chaeryeong burst into laughter, though she tried to play it off by coughing when she saw you glaring at her. “Sorry…” She picked up the fork and the knife and dumped them back into the silverware drawer to prevent you from making any more threats against Soonyoung. Your parents also didn’t trust you with metal utensils for…reasons similar to this.

You rolled your eyes. “So what happened to Junhui? Why couldn’t he come?”

The blond shrugged. “I dunno, he said that he was feeling sick, so he asked me to come in his place. Does that really matter?”

“Of course it matters! I don’t want some freaky undead creature looking after my little brother!” You retorted, raising your voice just a little. He might’ve been against eating people, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still a monster.

“[Y/n], that’s kinda…” Soonyoung held up one of his hands, signaling for Chaeryeong to stop talking.

“How do you know Jun isn’t a vampire?” He tilted his head as he asked that, then pursed his lips while he waited for your answer.

So he was a vampire and a smart-ass. Great.

“I don’t know!” You turned your head away from him. “This is just…freaky. I didn’t know vampires could be so—”

“Witty? Handsome? Charming? I know, I get that all the time.”

“Stupid.”

Chaeryeong laughed again.

Soonyoung raised one of his eyebrows. “Stupid guys must be your type then. Well, according to Chaeryeong, if I heard correctly.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “You heard all that?” Soonyoung nodded, smiling when he noticed the way you reacted.

“Every single word. You know, maybe you should do more research.” He flicked you on the forehead and grinned when you let out a yelp of pain.

“Anyway.” Chaeryeong mumbled. “It’s getting late, my sister is on her way to get me. Good luck with…” She gestured between Soonyoung and you. “whatever you’ve got going on.” She reached forward and grabbed the discarded apple from its place on the island and padded upstairs to get her stuff from your room.

A gleeful smile crept its way onto his lips as he turned his head to look at you. “She’s leaving. You know what that means, it’ll just be me and you once she’s gone.”

“If you try anything, I will go get the fork. I don’t care if it kills you or not.”

He laughed, and the sound echoed through the kitchen. It was weird, he didn’t sound or look like an evil blood-sucking monster. He just looked and sounded…normal. And a little shiny.

“Later [Y/n]! Bye Soonyoung. Have fun!” Chaeryeong waved to you from the stairs. You replied with a goodbye of your own, and Soonyoung hummed, listening for the sound of the door closing shut before turning you around and pushing you against the island.

You gasped. “What are you doing?” The way you squirmed in his hold was amusing to Soonyoung, acting as if you could get away. You were so cute, thinking you could get away from him. This would be more enjoyable than he thought.

“I don’t understand why you’re so afraid of me. I can make you feel so good, baby.” You scoffed, the sound turning into a low moan when he started grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“I’m not afraid of you,” The shakiness in your voice poked a hole in your believability, but Soonyoung didn’t think too much of it. He lowered his head to the side of your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point before licking a stripe up the side of your neck. You shivered with a horrible realization; you liked it.

“Mmm, then maybe you like me. Is that why your heart is beating so fast?” You could feel him smiling against your skin.

A whine echoed through the kitchen. Your whine. “Wait, my parents…”

You gasped a second time when Soonyoung turned you so you were facing him, and you watched him roll his eyes with that annoying smile plastered on his face. “Oh, them? They’re coming home late. Your mom locked the keys in the car, so they’ll be a while.” Just when you were about to respond, he turned you around again, the feeling of his breath on your neck making you shiver. “So just focus on me, got it?”

His hands traveled over your body, stopping to squeeze your chest or your ass. You should’ve been embarrassed with how you reacted so eagerly to his touch, but he was actually making you feel good. Well, whatever. It’s not like you’d actually let him know—

“I can get rid of these, right?” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your pajama pants, pulling them down along with your underwear the second you gave him a nod of confirmation. The fabric drops down your legs and pools at your feet and you kicked it aside. Soonyoung reached between your legs, collecting the wetness between them and holding it up to your face, fingers glistening with your arousal. “Look how wet you are for the freaky undead creature. You like this, don’t you?”

“N-no. I don’t like this or you.” Even though you said all that and shook your head, Soonyoung could tell you didn’t mean it. He reached between your legs again, this time to ease one of his fingers inside of you.

“The way you’re moaning for me says otherwise.” As he said that, he pushed another one of his fingers past your walls and eliciting another one of those not so subtle sounds from you that he loved. You didn’t even have to see him to know that he was pleased with himself getting you all worked up like this.

He was arrogant. He was full of himself. He was a smug bastard. He was all of that and more, and it was making you weak in the fucking knees.

Three of his fingers were inside of you now, stretching you so good that it made your head spin, and you bucked your hips against his hands like you’ve never been touched a day in your life.

God, you’d never live this down.

You bit your lip so that he didn’t get the satisfaction of hearing how you were falling apart over his fingers, or how good it felt when he curled them inside of you just right, or how he had your legs shaking every time he reached your sweet spot. As if he needed the vocal confirmation (he heard the noises you were making regardless), the way you were trembling was pretty much a dead giveaway.

“You know, you still owe me a little blood.”

“What?” You turned your head as much as you could to look at him over your shoulder. Soonyoung’s eyes were darker than they were before, his hunger evident through his gaze.

How could you owe him blood? What did that even mean?

“You owe me some blood,” he repeated. “Waving your finger around in my face and refusing me a taste. You have no idea how worked up you got me all over that flimsy little cut.”

Judging by how his dick was still poking you, you seriously doubted that.

You turned your head back around, not wanting him to see your face as you weighed your options. You didn’t really know what would happen if he did bite you. Would it hurt? Would it feel good?

Only one way to find out.

“Just…do it fast.” You tilted your head to give him better access to your neck. Soonyoung smiles wide—not like you could see it, but you were imagining that he was in this situation. He withdraws his fingers from their place inside you, much to your dismay, but he’s now holding them to your lips. He groans when you open your mouth and allows him to slip his fingers in and mumbling something that you can’t pick up over the sound of your thumping heartbeat.

“It shouldn’t hurt too much, but let me know if I need to stop.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the spot on your neck that he was sinking his fangs into no more than a second later, giving you no time to process his little act of intimacy. It stung for a moment, but what followed the initial sting of pain was the most intense and overwhelming sense of pleasure.

Soonyoung moans with absolutely no shame when your blood fills his mouth. He’s never tasted anyone as good as you, and he realizes that he could quickly become addicted to you. Your sounds, your blood, your pussy, each and every part of you inside and out was intoxicating.

You wrap your hands around his wrist and pull his fingers out of your mouth, wanting to have him hear your next words clearly. “Fuck me…please.”

He nearly chokes when you ask him that, forcing himself to pull away just so he can ask you to repeat yourself. He licks the remnants of your blood from his lips and your wound so that it’ll seal. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Clearly your expectations for him were still far too high, because instead of taking you to bed or at least the couch, he had you laid on the kitchen floor. Yeah, you’re definitely never living this down.

And yet despite all this, you can’t help but drool when you finally got to see Soonyoung’s cock beyond the confines of his sweatpants. He looks down at you, smirking, and despite your heightened arousal you still feel an urge to kick his cocky little ass.

“Can you get down here before I change my mind?”

He waves at you dismissively as if he hadn’t been the one all over you. “Need a condom. Got one on you?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m clean and on the pill. Come on, just fuck me already, oh my—”

Soonyoung happily lowered himself onto the floor, his lips on yours as he guided himself inside of you inch by inch. He tasted like your blood, obviously, but there was an also a faint taste of pink starburst too. Something he probably got from Leo, no doubt. The combination was weird, but somehow you figured it suited him.

“God. So f-fucking big, Soonie!”

Gone is the last bit of your composure with Soonyoung’s cock buried inside of you, blurting out any thought that came to your head against his lips.

“Shhh, not so loud, baby,” he whispers. “Wouldn’t want to have your bother wake up and find out what a slut you are, would you?” Yeah right, you think. Leo could sleep through anything, including you getting dicked down by his babysitter. But getting called a slut by him in that sickly sweet way had you clenching around him. “Fuck, warn me if you’re gonna do that.”

“Like I knew it would happen.” You hissed, making him laugh. He found this back and forth thing going on between the two of you fun, especially when he could get you so worked up and vice versa.

He waited until your body had relaxed to start moving, having to keep one of his hands over your mouth each time he thrusted into you because despite what he’d said earlier you just couldn’t seem to stop yourself. It wasn’t your fault that the kitchen was so echoey or that Soonyoung was giving it to you so fucking good.

“You’re such a cute little thing,” He laughed breathily into your neck. “I loved how much of a fight you put up for me baby. Now look at you. You’re mine.”

“All—ah—yours,” your words were muffled by his hands, but he understood you perfectly. The embarrassment you felt earlier was gone, completely replaced with thoughts of him and his cock splitting you open right here on the floor.

You felt him nod, “Mhm, you’re all mine, and I’m all yours. God, wish I could just fuck this sweet little pussy forever.”

A laugh managed slipped past your lips and he finally moved his hand away from your mouth. “You can say that?”

“God? Duh.” He sneered, becoming more and more aware of just how clueless you really were about vampire culture. “Can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you right now.”

You were just about to say something else when Soonyoung changed the angle of his hips, slamming into you even deeper than before. Your back arched, chest pressed to his, and a second later you let out a frustrated groan.

“You still fucking suck.”

“I’m glad you noticed.”

He opts for a faster pace after that, spurred on by the way you close your eyes and babble his name over and over again as if it’s the only word you can say. He’s so desperate to cum, to get you to cum, to have him be the only thing on your mind when you make a mess of yourself all over him. He whispers for you to keep your eyes closed, taking your wrist in his hand and bringing it to your stomach.

“Can you feel me? Right…” He moves your hand around a little before he finds the correct place, “here?” Blindly, you press down on the spot, and your eyes shoot open. He’s so, so deep, you can’t keep it together anymore.

“F-Fuck, feels so good,” your breath hitches at the end of the sentence. “Need more…”

“Yeah? Pretty baby needs more?” Soonyoung raises one of your legs over his shoulders and you swear you start seeing stars with the way he’s fucking you. “You’re so t-tight, sweetheart. Gonna cum?”

“Mmm, yeah, so c-close. Make me cum, Soonie, need it so bad.”

Soonyoung lifts his head so that he can kiss you, only breaking it to quickly mumble the words “me too” before his lips are back on yours and his finger is rubbing your clit until your body goes limp beneath his and he feels you squeezing him so tight it triggers his own orgasm, slowing the speed of his thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

Your head feels fuzzy, and you barely register the feeling of him pulling out or lifting himself off of you while you lay there and catch your breath. “Soonyoung?”

There’s no immediate response, and it makes you confused as to why. You try to lift yourself off the floor but the soreness hasn’t quite subsided, so you’ve no choice but to stay put. “Yeah, just leave me on the floor. Not like I need your help or anything.”

“Well excuse me for not wanting you to be all sticky.” He huffs, wiping the insides of your thighs with a damp washcloth, then proceeding to wipe down the floor and the top of the island.

“I’m still on the floor, Soonyoung.”

Smiling, he helps you to stand and even manages to get you back into your underwear and pajama pants. He won’t stop looking at you like he has something to say. Maybe, for once, it’s something important.

“What?”

“You wanna go again? I’ve still got a ton of energy.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he did. “Oh come on, I know you liked it.”

“That’s it, I’m getting the fork.”

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